#so good right now is really satisfying strumming you can feel in your chest and 16 candles has a super fun structure and pattern

[hum--hallelujah]

my top FOB basslines ranking goes like Sunshine Riptide > I'm Like A Lawyer = 27 > So Good Right Now > 16 Candles = Tiffany Blews > Hum Hallelujah but also that's just off the top of my head and based halfway on technical aspects and halfway on emotional attachment so it may be subject to change 🤷‍♀️

[missamyrisa2]

You have a rebellious goth punk in your clutches who has a secret tickle fetish, how will you break them?

"Ooooh my cute cookie, you should know that reluctant gothy punky types are one of my specialties ~ and favorites. There's nothing quite as spine-tingly satisfying as watching a tough lil cookie like you struggle so much to keep that façade up ~ because I know you think you're like, so badass ~ but ummmh ~ have you considered you're a silly goose? Nooo? Ah, no matter. Now if you would juuuust cooperate with me, I'm going to just slide this feather in that lil ol armhole of your top. Yes, yes, we need a dustin', girl. You never know where those wily dust bunnies are gonna nest mmmhmm ~ and ooh, yeah, I have match to that feather. Always keep your feathers in a pair, that's what I say. Stickin' together is what good feathers dooo~"

My giggly snickering girly chatter incessantly flutters on your ears as I hum and work and flit about, casually inserting long fluffy white feathers into your top as if I were doing housework, and not toying with my prisoner in a torture chair with their arms securely affixed upright and legs gently spread. And I certainly look the housewife part today, swishing about in a floral sundress and black bolero jacket, my many metal bracelets jingling while I work about your bound form.

"...and there we are, quite a centerpiece mmmhmm ~ I should really go into interior decorating yess. Now then, shall we tickle?" I muse with a hand on my waist before taking my other hand and pinching playfully at your side. "What's a matter? Why are you squirmin'?" I smile knowingly, bringing my other hand into the fray wriggling fingers in the air as it slowly descends to start stroking at your underarm and setting off the feather laying in wait against your bare upper chest. "What's that? Feather got your tongue my kewpie doll? Yes, you're my doll. You're an adorable little thing and you love your tickles. You just want to giggle it out, I can see it ~ don't lie now. Don't lie. That's gonna make it worse ~ "

I snicker and smile, my face right up to yours taking your reactions and fight against the tickles with delight. My fingers stroke lovingly up and down your ribs before spinning up into rapid spidering touches at your belly and armpits, meeting to dance along your chest. "Coochie coochie coooo~ come onnn ~ let it all out now, don't try to fight it ~ I know this ticklessss~ You can struggle and fight and act tough all you want. It's still gonna tickle~"

"I know it ~ uhhhuh~ mmmhmmmmm~" I say matter of factly, tilting my head to one side and spying your neck. I reach behind and produce an oversized fluffy makeup brush with a glittery handle. "Just gonna touch you up here, lemme fix you up tootsie-pop. Now, now, don't fret. Yes, you're a tough cookie, you don't giggle, you don't love the tickles huh?" I flutter the soft tool around your sensitive skin, my nails gliding down & up the bottom of your shirt and sneaking around to find your bellybutton. "Then why are you laughin? Why are you squirming huh? You're not ticklish? Ooh you're pretending to laugh ~ Ahh, I see. And those giggles? Tickle tickle~" My finger probes into your navel sweetly, darting in and out and strumming the button while I continue to merrily dust your neck and collar and cheeks too with my makeup brush.

"I think you like being tickled ~ I think you loooove feeling so silly. You put on such a tough front huh? All that black and stuff ~ but you love your tickles. You just want Miss Amy to make you feel soooo loved and sweet and silly don't ya? Maybe we need to tour these toes to help you find your tickly aura ~" I stand up and idly glide my fingers down my bright cheerful outfit, such a comical contrast both to yours and the tickly tortures I'm administering. I glide my nails thoughtfully down your sides, pinching at your hips and exploring your thighs with little wiggles.

"Sooo many tickle spots. Does your lil goth gang know about that giggle? Maybe we should show them ~ maybe we should make a little giggle reel for all your badass friends and then they can tickle you tooo~" I skitter and skip down, smiling widely when I reach your feet. "Maybe you need a girly girly makeover too~" I grin and pluck away your footwear. "Give you a break from all this intense dark stuff~" I toss one boot away and smirk at your wiggling toe, taking an index finger down your sock slowly. "Yes yes, get my lil cookie into something bright and silky and cheerful ~ a niiiice tickle outfit~<3" I start scratching my nails earnestly on the material, darting up your sole and under the toes. "Coochie coooo~ don't fight it now. You have ticklish toes. Yesss you do. And you're gonna say it ~ you're gonna call me tickle mama by the time we're done, oh yessss ~ pleeeeheease tickle mama give me tickles you'll sayyy~ take me out of my dark drab wrappings and make me pretty and gigglyy~ ahh yes, please tickle mama?"

I squeak happily and pluck away your other footwear before going on the attack, giggling and smiling with you sipping up every reaction while my fingers work their magic. Without warning I slip into each sock and start tugging upward. "Ooh yes. You're losing these ~ let's see those adorable toesies. Let's get you niiice and melty, we're gonna break down some tough walls today my tough lil cookie ~" I toss each sock aside, ensuring my nails are gliding on your skin as it becomes exposed. "Well look at thisssss ~" I step back and study your twitching toes, and hold a hand up to my mouth~ my other hand floating near your exposed feet.

"mmmmh...ladies and gentlemen we're now cruising at an altitude of uhh..five feet? Right past a delightfully cute ticklee currently bound for your amusement and if you look outside your window, you'll see one two three four oooh ten wiggling ticklish toes aaaaand I do believe we're going to be able to make a landing and as our thanks for you flying with us today you can tickle those toes until the cows come home~" I blush at my own silly pilot voice, as I make my hand plane land on the top of your foot and wiggle my fingers like walking little ticklers going up up up to start stroking and tickling each toe.

"What's a matter? Why are you laughing so much I thought you weren't ticklish I thought you weren't ticklish I thought you weren't tiiiiicklishh~" I repeat, working your feet over with endless scratches and strokes ~ rubbing my thumbs under your toes, gliding nails up your soles, even leaning in to occasionally graze my teeth on your most sensitive bits. "It's like I always say, the feet are the line right to the heart ~ "

With a smirk, I pull out a bottle of baby oil and start lovingly massaging it onto your pinkened skin. "There ~ there we gooo ~ Amy makes it all better, always. Are you loving your tickles? Yeah? You were giggling pretty good there sweet pea. Such an adorable cookie ~ not so tough huh? That's okay. You can giggle it all out here ~ I'm gonna make you feel sooo special and tickly ~ and you're gonna love it ~ uhhuh. Mmmmhm. Ready to ask tickle mama for your tickles? Noo? Don't worry. You'll ask for it ~ Yes you will cookie cookie ~" I hvae just a hint of darkness in my tone of voice as I reach down and produce my paddle brush. I seize one set of toes and start merrily stroking your sole with all those tickly nubs in rapid strides.

"Mmmhmm. Gonna get all those wonderful giggles out now. It's like a purging. We have to get all through your squeaky silly giggles and find those deep belly laughs. Come on ~ I know they're in there ~ gotta get them all out now, come onnn~" I work away, brushing your oiled ticklish skin methodically, switching from one foot to the other. "Kick all you want. You aren't going anywhere cutie. I've got ya~ you can't escape this sweetie pie, my little twinkle toes~ Ooh? A snort? Snorting is okay, you just make all the silly adorable sounds you like ~ I'll tickle you all the way through ~"

The fuzziness of the endless tickles attacking your ticklish feet parts when a new sensation arises ~ cold, probing, and with a tiny bit of bite. The cool metal of my back scratcher runs down your sensitized skin, revisiting those worst spots to make you perk back from your gasping giggles. "Ooh no, ooh yes ~ we're not done yet. Because it's gonna get you. And it's gonna tickle. And you're cute~" I smile warmly, working my tool carefully while I matter of fact to you again ~

"I think you like being tickled~" with an almost vampiric glide I'm back at your cheek, kissing gently. "You do, don't you? Don't lie sweet cookie. Amy knows. Tickle mama always knows~ you love your tickles huh? Do you want me to make you feel so good? Yeahhh?" My fingers slip downward, playing at your chest, darting at your waist before thoughtfully drawing on your royal areas.

"I'm not gonna make it easy on you, ya know~ you're gonna have to work for it. And I'm gonna tickle you all the way through and beyond ~" With a superior snicker, my hand is at once equipped with my favorite, the oversized magic wand. "So ~ here's what we're gonna do ~ this is my partner in crime. And I know what you're thinkin', you're still clothed, those tickles won't get you ~ rookie mistake. My friend is also a tough cookie and she always gets her way. I'm gonna put her riiiight here on your royal zone." I plant the padded bulb between your legs, on your most private area and squeak excitedly as I thumb the controls. "And we'll just see who wins ~"

[lavynrose]

Artem and his S/O confessing at the same time pt. 2

Title: Dedicated

Pairing/s: Artem Wing X Reader

Pronouns: Gender Neutral

Genre: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

Warning/s: grammatical errors

Notes: ok so!!! thank you so much for waiting <3 one thing i'd like to say is that i recommend reading part 1 before this bc it creates a build-up for the story's conclusion. There are some parts here that needed context from part 1. Enjoy!

part 1 here

He couldn't ask for more.

The sunset spilled all around the theme park, the golden intricates of the the railings sparkled than ever before. The orange radiance of the solemn sun gives the park an even more golden glow.

Artem looked around, taking in the seemingly perfect view of what can be only described as serene. The laughter of groups of friends, families walking hand-in-hand, couples giving their significant other loving looks, people enjoying themselves left and right, the quaint smell of hotdogs and popcorn.

You spending your time with him.

The sunset made this picturesque scenery even more breathtaking, and he could come here everyday if only allowed.

Right now, right in this very moment, everything is glowing.

Especially you.

"That was really fun!" the enthusiasm in your voice never fails to make him feel the same. He loves seeing you have fun, without a care in the world. He admits, he also enjoyed getting splashed by water on the raft ride.

He unconsciously offered his arm to link with yours and when you took it as you gazed at him, he's more than satisfied.

You fit so perfectly in his arms, it feels as if you're the missing puzzle piece he never knew his being had. Even having dried after getting soaked from the raft, the warmth that your touch radiated fills his senses with comfort.

This moment of getting to spend time with the person he profoundly longed for was enough for him. Enough for now. You don't need to know his affections for now.

Does he really need to let you know?

His feelings?

It'll probably make your relationship awkward. He's not ready to risk the sweet smiles and playful looks you direct towards him just for his own selfishness.

It doesn't matter. He'll love you even if you won't, anyway.

He then stopped in his tracks, you followed suit. Not caring about the people around you. Lost in the little world the two of you shared. He looked down at your form, "Yes it was. I enjoyed it very much." because you're with me, he wanted to add but instead of saying those words, an amiable look in his cerulean eyes twinkled, and an adoring smile latched upon his features instead.

Almost as if he's telling you an unspoken confession.

His expression however, turned into mild surprise when he noticed how your gaze was filled with enchantment. With a soft glint in your lidded eyes, your brows are knitted together. You were silent.

It baffled him.

Why.

'Why are you looking at me like that?' Artem wanted to blurt out. His mouth opened to say something.

It was unclear to him as to why you looked like you were staring at his very soul.

'Why are you looking at me like,' he can't help but ask himself as he continued to scrutinize your tranced gaze, 'like you want to say the same words I desperately wanted to tell you?'

Are his feelings reciprocated?

You blinked and suddenly looked away, "Uhh, Artem, I-"

"Everyone! One more hour to go for the fireworks! Please look forward to it!" The both of you landed your eyes on the speaker, then on each other.

Artem cleared his throat, pulling the collar of his turtleneck, "You were saying?" he inquired, voice and features laced with curiosity.

You cleared your throat and pulled on your collar, mirroring him, "I..." you started as your eyes darted as if you were looking for excuses, then your orbs glinted with realization and faced Artem, "I just wanted to say that we should take pictures! This is a memorable night after all."

His eyes begin to scan the theme park and his gaze found a small photobooth just beside the merry-go-round.

"Good idea. We haven't had anything to commemorate today's fun." He brushed off your weird behavior earlier as you dragged him towards your destination.

There weren't too many people in the waiting line, there were multiple photobooths, plenty enough to not create a line of more than five costumers per booth.

As soon as it was your turn, you excitedly rummaged through the cute costumes the guests can wear in the photos.

"Look Artem," you snapped your fingers to get his attention, "This would look cute on you!" You squealed as you waved the headband with cat ears in front of his face.

This kind of trend has been circling around lately. No matter how much of a busy man Artem is, he still has seen some posts about this on the internet...

Catboy culture, wasn't it? He wondered.

"You should wear one, too." He suggested. He gingerly took the headband from you and after a few moments of hesitation, he finally gave in to the anticipation in your eyes.

Your eyes were practically sparkling taking in the sight of catboy Artem in the flesh.

"Oh my gosh." You breathed, gaping at him.

Artem blinked. "Is there something on my face?" He then turned to the mirror to check what's wrong, nothing seems to be out of the ordinary though.

"It's nothing!" You frantically waved your hand and gestured towards the camera, "Let's take a photo!" you grinned, wearing cat ears identical to Artem's.

You guys started the photoshoot with your hands making peace signs.

Ah, the classic.

The few shots after just consisted of you putting on different faces while Artem just wore different headbands each shot, with the same pose.

"You guys, please act cuter for the camera! " The photographer suddenly commented.

Isn't Y/N cute enough? Artem internally recoiled.

"Young man, put your arms around your date or something, or do a heart pose together! " Mr. Photographer added.

Artem looked back at you, his eyes meeting yours, both were wide with surprise.

He cleared his throat for what seemed like the nth time today and looked at you for approval, "Do you want to?" he asked as his hands formed half a heart.

Your cheeks lighted aflame as you raised your hand, forming half a heart to connect it with his, "I don't mind."

As your fingers touched, Artem cannot control the pink flushing his cheeks as he smiled at the camera.

The photographer continued to instruct the both of you with how you should pose. He deserves a raise for doing his job really well, Artem thinks.

After of what it seemed like endless snaps of sappy pictures, the two of you decided to print all of them.

"Now we have lots of souvenirs!" you scanned each one of the photos and Artem can't help but think how good you two look together.

He thanked the photographer for putting his all into the shoot, then you both headed for the exit.

"How was it, Artem?" You turned towards him with a profound smile.

You have lots of photos together now. He can already see himself wide awake at night, staring at your couple-like pictures.

It was more than okay.

"It was a fun experience. The cat ears aren't bad." He said as he recalled how astonished you looked when he wore the headband.

"We spent almost 20 minutes there..." You sighed as you looked at your watch.

Artem unconsciously checked his wrist watch as well, "There are 40 minutes left before the fireworks. Do you want to check out more rides before then?"

You surveyed the theme park to look for more booths, "Look at that, Artem." you pointed toward the large and loud crowd at the park's quadrangle.

"Perharps it's someone performing." Artem guessed, hearing the strums of a guitar from the speakers.

"Let's check it out!" Curious, you and Artem shuffled yourselves into the crowd. The faint singing voice grew more and more audible as you got closer to the center of the attraction.

You headed to the front for the best audience experience and the singer came into view, "Isn't that?" Artem's eyes were as wide as saucers when he recognized the person singing.

Funny how you weren't surprised, and he wondered why.

There at the center, sitting at a stool with a guitar in hand, singing with a gold microphone in front of him, was the new employee at the firm, William.

Artem frowned.

That's the guy. The guy who was getting too cozy with you, the guy causing the unpleasant pangs inside his chest.

The guy who was one of the reasons why he got the courage to ask you out on this date in the first place.

The feeling of delight earlier was now replaced by uneasiness.

"I didn't know he was a performer." Artem murmured, and he kept glancing at you.

When he saw that you were clapping your hands and a proud smile has decorated your lips - one that's not aimed him, a sudden bitter feeling overwhelmed his whole being.

You looked very happy, and he hung his head low.

He vividly remembered your smiling faces in the office yesterday, and how William seem to always hang around you.

Artem realized he wasn't special. The warm look that he witnessed from you earlier in the sunset, the look that made him think that you reciprocated his feelings, you probably do that to everyone.

He felt so stupid.

While everyone was watching William hit the notes and strum the strings, Artem was watching your every reactions, only for him to get hurt on the inside.

His heart hurts, the clenching feeling in his chest tightening with every cheer that you voiced.

He's glad it was you who were causing this pain, though.

The crowd boomed with claps and shouts as the last note finished the song, and Artem wasn't in the mood to join them.

6:30pm

"Aren't you going to greet him?" Artem's voice made you look up to him, his brows furrowed and he wasn't making eye contact.

You just brushed his behaviour off and said, "Nope. I wouldn't want to disturb him on this special day!" you felt giddy, knowing that you helped William to set this all up.

As soon as his first day in the office, which was around a month ago, he had overheard you and Kiki talking about the big opening of PAX's amusement park, and kept asking questions about the event. He then learned you were friends with the heir, Marius.

You've never seen a face as shocked as William's when he learned that.

He even made Kiki contact her insiders about the soon to be opened theme park.

Kiki asked why he was so curious, and he said he performs on gigs as a hobby, balancing it with his law career, and that he loves performing ever since he was a kid.

"Performing on the theme park's opening would definitely give me more opportunities!" He sounded so passionate that you can't help but support him.

He became bashful though, as he said, "Besides, I've been looking for an opportunity to surprise my girlfriend next month," you and Kiki beamed at him, "This would make her happy, as I made a new song that I specifically made as a gift for her birthday. I'll sing it on the opening if I'm allowed."

That's why ever since, you became close with William. Whenever you talk though, he almost always talk about her girlfriend.

"30 minutes remaining for the fireworks display!!!" The speakers announced.

You were excited for the fireworks, and an idea popped out of your mind.

"Artem," you called him out "Let's ride on the ferries wheel, that way we're up in the sky as the fireworks erupt," you dragged him to the ferris wheel's ticketing booth, "I heard that it takes 20-30 minutes for a capsule to be on top of the wheel, the time is perfect for us!"

"Can we be alone in the capsule?" Artem suddenly requested, his eyes filled with a look you can't fathom. He looked so vulnerable.

"Yes, that's actually normal. We can request that for the youngest senior attorney with 99% win rate!" You grinned and you expected him to send you one of his gentle smiles, but he just turned his head away, and looked at the distance.

You take a good look at him again once you got the tickets, he's still looking away, a solemn demeanor in his face.

You can't help but wonder what he's thinking. He's been acting a little weird, you thought.

Does he not want to hang out with you anymore?

"Artem, if you don't want to, you can tell me. I won't be mad." You eyed him with concern, "We can just sit on the bench or something." you suggested.

Just like that, his expression changed quickly, regret clouding his face, "Y/N," he sighed, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply that with my actions," he stared at you for a few seconds, then you noticed that light was back in his eyes, the fond smile you liksd seeing is back again, "The ferris wheel is perfect." He then grabbed yoir waist and guided you both to the capsule.

You grinned, "I requested a capsule for only the two of us!" you waved the tickets at him, he chuckled and grabbed it from you to give to the person managing the capsules.

The capsule was air-condition inside, with big windows to get a good view of the outside. You expected nothing from a device created by PAX.

Across from you, Artem sits, his mood is a little better now, but you can't help but notice the silent sadness his cerulean eyes hold still.

You don't like seeing him like this.

"Hey, Artem?" you half-whispered, not wanting to surprise him from his reverie.

His eyes met yours, "Yes?" he responded gently.

"You know you can trust me with your problems, right?" You started, you don't let his surprised expression distract you from what you want to say, "I will listen intently to your troubles, and we'll find a way to solve them together! " You declared with the brightest smile you could ever muster, "So please, share your burdens with me. I'll carry them with you." You finished with a toothy grin.

He blinked a few times before finally shaking his head with fondness, "Thank you, Y/N. I want you to know that you are special to me." His face is suddenly filled with so much endearment you quickly looked away, "Uhh, Of course!" your face flushed red and you raised your hide in an attempt to hide it.

Artem chuckled, the sound giving you a sense of comfort and security. You looked up to him again and saw his features get illuminated by the lights flickering in the theme park, his adoring eyes lingering on you.

Like yours was lingering on him.

You smiled at each other, letting the other feel that they're not alone in the battles they're facing.

What are you to each other, anyway? You pondered when you decided to avert your eyes away from him first.

As far as you can recall, friends don't do this kind of thing with each other. The staring, the blushing. Oh, especially the blushing.

You can't help but long for the possibility of having your feelings reciprocated, but oh boy were you afraid.

"Can I sit beside you?" His question brought you to your senses, and you happily obliged, "Of course! This capsule isn't shaky, we'll be okay being on the same side." You made space for him as you patted the empty space. There he sat, his scent enveloping your senses.

It was silent for the whole ride up, but you were comfortable with it. You were with the person you love, being with them is enough.

7:00pm

Your capsule was right on top when suddenly, a boom was heard and splashes of color was seen through the window.

"Artem!" you pointed at the big, colorful patch of explosion that's a little bit below the capsule you were in.

The ferries wheel was so high that you were higher than the fireworks!

The fireworks was on your side of the window, you can see the view to it's fullest glory.

"Whoa!" you exclaimed, your eyes astonished by the scene before you. Your hands flat against the window, when you suddenly felt a body pressed against your back, and a hot breath against your ear, "It's amazing" you heard Artem mutter, as his breaths fanned the hairs on your neck, before resting his chin on your shoulder.

You yelped, you forgot Artem was just beside you!

Your heart pounded against your ribcage when you realized that in order for Artem to see the fireworks, he needs to look at your side of the window.

Heck, your thighs were touching, and you can feel every ounce of heat that his muscular body radiated. He's practically caging you and this small, suffocating space of a capsule isn't helping!

Despite the unbelievable heat that your whole body is feeling right now, you badly wanted him to wrap his arms around you.

Something was pooling in your stomach, something weird. All you can think about right now is Artem kissing you against the window while you sit on his lap.

Warmth filled your already heated cheeks upon realization of what you just imagined, and you mentally slapped yourself. What were you thinking?

The smell of his vanilla cologne isn't helping!

Nobody has ever made you feel this way before. No other person has affected you like this. You think about the things that this man had done for you, he was selfless, hardworking, and most of all, kind.

Especially the smiles he had always shown you. Those smiles filled with comfort and fondness that makes you weak in the knees. Whenever you see that smile, you find yourself looking forward in seeing it again.

To you, Artem Wing was unobtainable.

Yet you wanted to make him yours.

7:01pm

"Artem!" you pointed below with an enthusiastic grin as the fireworks boomed and splashed the sky above the theme park.

His body scooted over to you without realizing, eyes widening with glee and he muttered, "It's amazing" Artem leaned towards you, placing his chin on your shoulder for him to get better view of the fireworks display below.

It's taking every ounce of his control to not face you towards him and claim your lips then and there.

What you said earlier only fueled his raging feelings for you. You were willing to carry his burdens with him? He never had someone say that to him before, and he was happy it's from you.

The evening is flawless. The two of you were alone, having you near him like this, your decleration of support earlier, and a beautiful scenery before him that he won't get to see everyday...

A perfect evening to pour his heart out to you.

He decided that if there was a best time to confess his love for you, that time would be now. He didn't care about your answer right now, he just wanted to let it all out before this passionate feelings can drive him to insanity.

These feelings were driving him crazy, he wanted to let you know how you make him happy, that he thinks about you eveey second of every day, that you ground him and his lonely heart.

He noticed you were silent and unmoving, so he decided to take the chance. He took a deep breath.

"I'm in l-" "Can I ki-"

You turned your body to face him, surprised. Your face only a few centimeters away from his. One wrong move and you'll kiss.

The both of you blinked.

"You... go first." you said, biting your lip.

He stared deep into your eyes, none of you dared to move from this intimate position, your breaths fanning each other's faces.

"Y/N, I," he rested his forehead against yours and breathed with the most vulnerable voice you've ever heard from him, "I'm in love with you..."

You gaped, but he didn't mind.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, "It's okay if you don't feel the same. I..." he opened his eyes to give you a loving gaze "I will keep loving you anyway."

He looked so vulnerable right now, but it didn't scare him. If anything, he feels relief in finally voicing out the feelings he's hidden for so long.

"I was in a bad mood today because I think you were interested in William," you just blinked and he continued, "I mean, you always look happy when you're with him. It crushed my heart." He finished as he waited for your response.

He waited, and waited.

The silence that you were giving him didn't give him any clue to what you were thinking, it's unnerving.

After of what seemed like an eternity you finally let out, "He has a girlfriend, silly." you see Artem's eyes widened and you continued, "It's a long story, but I'm not interested in him. We're just friends."

You felt the heat creep up his face.

"So... what were you going to tell me?" He said hesitantly as he gulped, the embarrasment from earlier evident in his voice.

Your cheeks flushed pink as you darted your eyes, it was now your turn to get really embarassed, "Can I..." your face looks conflicted. That if you say whatever you wanted to say, It'd be the death of you.

You took a deep breath, Artem told you his feelings, so it's only fair you tell him yours, you told yourself and mustered the courage to look up to his ocean eyes, a vast ocean so blue, you could drown in them, "Can I kiss you, Artem?"

It took a moment before he could fully process your words. His brain short-circuit.

"What?" He blurted out as he scanned your face for any signs that maybe, you have made a mistake.

but you replied, "I want to kiss you Artem," you put your hands on his shoulder to steady yourself, "I'm in love with you too."

His body tingled with so much joy, you being in love with him was just a distant dream before.

Not willing to wait anymore, he licked his lips as he slowly dipped his head to meet your already parted mouth, welcoming him.

You may or may not have kissed the entire way down the ride.

Artem Wing is a dedicated man.

Now, he's willing to dedicate himself to you for the rest of his life.

do not repost © lavynrose 08/16/21.

[yostresswritinggirl]

Do you do poly ships? :0 if not feel free to do these two characters separately lol May I get some hcs of Zhongli and Venti on a picnic date with the reader? Just a quiet day in the sun where the Archons can relax for a moment and watch the world go by :D (if you wanna insert some angst maybe they suddenly realize this moment is fleeting bc reader is mortal and won't be with them forever?? Up to you lol 👀) thank you in advance!!!

I actually don't :D kidding ahahah

What I meant to say was that I haven't wrote anything related to poly relationship before so this a cool, first experience for me! And like the dumbass that I am, I took on this request and butchered the heck outta it. Welcome to "A Day In The Life Loving Two Broke Gods"-

Rendezvous with the Gods

Picnic Scenario with Poly!Venti, Zhongli, and You

Background!

It's pretty WACK how you got two of the seven archons to be interested in you in a romantic level.

But I can imagine that the thing that attracted them the most to you is your sense of humanity. As ex-archons, what they needed now is a sense of normalcy and a grasp on reality, and with your knowledge and presence they've come to realize the ways of the mortals fairly easily.

But like, you got the two oldest archons in existence. Even the Traveler is in disbelief at this turn of events.

I think you somehow ended up in this situation when the two of them had a reunion after their retirement, and the conversation went like this: "Have you heard of the fair maiden, (Y/N)? Their existence greatly reminds me of Celestia!" "I had the honor of meeting them yes, how tantalizing they are, even the slightest sight of them invigorates me through the whole day."

They'd shower you with praises among one another, and you're forced to sneeze for an hour straight somewhere in Teyvat.

Preparation!

*wheeze*

First thing I thought was "How probable is it that Venti drinks Dandelion Wine at 4 in the afternoon?"

The answer is yes.

You three have planned this picnic days ahead, maybe even a week. As all of you have your own work and errands to deal with, probably not Venti tho, a gathering of this magnitude that requires you three to be present for hours are not as common as you'd think.

First order of business: location! The most obvious answer would have been Starsnatch Cliff, Windrise or even Dihua Marsh.

While thinking, Venti and Zhongli ended up sharing a look, and suddenly the location was settled.

No, you don't know where it is, and they tell you that they'll handle it.

You don't have to worry.

You are very worried.

Next, the food! Being in a relationship with two broke Gods made you the alpha in terms of Mora, and on this occasion, you're once again forced to put your foot down and provide.

With that in mind, both of them could only offer a guilty smile and a nervous laugh.

The outcome of your meal depends on your cooking skills really: if you're good or decent, what a heart-warming picnic that would be.

They must have tasted your cooking before so they would ask for requests on your delicious home cooking —

something light that goes with tea, said Zhongli.

something meaty and heavy to pair with wine, said Venti.

It's a wonder how you deal with these two together.

If you're absolutely terrible at cooking, like Suspicious Dish™ rating, you're gonna have to rely on your Mora to get takeout for this date.

Everything else you've pretty much wrapped up quickly, all you have to do now is wait.

Picnic Time!

Venti was the one to pick you up from your housing to guide you to the location, greeting you with a chaste kiss on the cheek before aiming for the picnic basket hanging by your elbow.

You don't let him; he might eat it on the way there honestly

Cute boy is practically shaking with excitement as he hauls you up over a cliff face and carefully nyoom! over the sea

Where is he taking you?

You didn't dwell much longer when you saw a small island in the distance, a rock formation by the edge and most notably, you're tall lover standing next to an elegant patterned brown and gold blanket placed over the sea of flora.

Welcome to Heart Island!

Very cheesy

The Geo archon greets you with a kiss on the hand before being tackled to the ground by a buzzing Venti.

How that was physically possible was beyond you-

You set up and laid down all the food you got for today's picnic: Fresh apples, 'Breakfast' Sandwich, Chicken and Mushroom Skewers!

You've also noticed a picnic basket to the side that wasn't yours. Noticing your stare, Zhongli pulled out his contributions: Mora Meat, a pitcher of Iced Tea, and a bowl of Mushroom Stew.

Out of nowhere, Venti manifests his own offerings to the table: Apples, Dandelion Wine and Mondstadt Hash Browns.

You have no idea how these two managed to prepare or afford such meals but you appreciate it nonetheless.

They had the whole week to save up Mora just for this picnic, how cute aww

The first to take a bite is Venti, defo. You and Zhongli would be prepping the utensils while the Anemo boy sneaks some food into his mouth, even if you smack his hand multiple times, he's not gonna relent.

A lot of catching up happens in this picnic: your wild commissions, Venti's recent performances, Zhongli's uh consultant stuff.

These are the rare moments where Zhongli isn't the one filling up the conversation more, satisfied with hearing the voices of his lovers and listening to their joys or woes.

The whole picnic is accompanied by Venti's lyre, strumming softly, unrelenting, to make sure all of you are enjoying the serenity of the island.

You and Zhongli take turns spoon feeding him cuz he just won't stop PLAYING

Zhongli made the Iced Tea

Zhongli made the Iced Tea

Very refreshing, right amount of sweet, would honestly be a good alternative for Venti's alcoholism

Speaking of, he's tipsy now

He's on a full-blown performance now, serenading and urging you two into a dance after eating "to digest the food faster"

Not really believable but you danced anyways.

Zhongli would decline first as he starts cleaning up

But give him a little more nudge, pull on his hand, he'll crave eventually

Rex Lapis is actually a pretty decent dancer

HAVE YOU SEEN HOW GRACEFUL HE DROP KICKS HIS SPEAR

Such a relaxing day off the three of you deserve

By the time the sun already dipped the horizon and you guys still had time to spare, you and Venti would be dozing off on the blanket while leaving the few remaining clean up to Zhongli. It was a tiring yet enjoyable day that's deserving of a nice and dreamy nap.

"Morax..." He'd hear an uncharacteristically somber voice as he makes his way over to where you both lay. Your back resting on the Anemo archon's chest as he spoons you. His teal eyes stare unmoving at your open palm of which the Geo archon takes into his as he sits down.

Little cuts litter your rough hands, from your adventures, some fresh from today to prepare your dishes. How frail and sensitive mortal hands are.

"I'll miss them, so so much." Venti confessed as his grip around you tightens, free-flowing tears erupt from his eyes that are unfocused, as if he was years away with that thousand yards stare that the other God had familiarized himself with.

For the second time in his whole lifetime, Rex Lapis found himself at a loss for words.

------

"Ohhh, a luxurious chest! What's it doing so far out here?" The Traveler lets the floating companion ramble as they pull the chest open, excited for the new artifacts they'll come by.

A teal goblet with gold accents worn out through the years from disuse as parts of its paint are chipped off as gray splotches, laid perfectly in the middle of a brown wool blanket with intricate gold and silver geometric patterns. On each side lays an Anemoculus and Geoculus, softly glowing yet dimming in pulses.

They pick it up with utmost care for safe-keeping, to ask for their archon friends in the future. Who knows, it might be the closure they needed.

This took some time and a lot of pondering wow! This is even more chaotic than the Albedo one ahahah I've made myself sad just thinking about this— anyways thank you so much for requesting and your lovely support! Please let our archon bbs be happy ywy

[lazywonderlvnd]

Imagine Harry learning to play the guitar after the war and Draco finds out when they start dating and is obv a slut for it. Anyway what I'm here to beg for is sexy-guitar-player-Harry smut please and thank

first of all nonners I’m so sorry this took me lit rally 59 years to answer!!!! when I saw it in my inbox last week I was abt to answer n be like yes. this. And then realized it needed to be written and got sidetracked w the first himbo harry installment but here it is now and let me just SAY this trope is my new FAVORITE thing in the world oh my goddddd when I tell u the way I’ve been yelling to glows and cielia abt it 👁👄👁

highly recommend listening to wonderwall when it comes up to Complete the Experience. hope u enjoy ❤️

“I’m sorry, he what?”

“Yeah, he’s really good,” said Weasley. He nodded towards the acoustic guitar hanging on the wall; Draco had taken notice of it the first time he’d seen Harry’s flat but never paid it much mind after that, taking it for decoration, or perhaps an unused gift. “He’ll play if you ask him. He doesn’t like showing off.”

“Which is silly,” Granger said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve told him, just because he’s good at it doesn’t make it showing off. I wish he’d play for people more often.”

“He has literally never mentioned this to me.” He felt utterly stunned and completely cheated. He tried to picture it and couldn’t. “How long’s he been playing?”

“Picked it up after the war. It was kind of funny, actually  --” Weasley started saying, but Harry came back into the room -- still pulling his shirt on -- and he broke off, giving Draco a significant look that told him to bring it up.

“Harry,” said Draco imperiously, to which he received two raised eyebrows as Harry fell into his favourite armchair and pushed a hand through his still-damp curls. Draco matched his expression and glanced at the guitar. Harry followed his gaze, looking genuinely confused.

“What, what is it?”

“When were you going to tell me you play?”

“What, guitar?”

“Yes, guitar.”

He shrugged and grabbed for one of the beers on the table, wandlessly magicking the cap off. “I dunno. When it came up, I guess.”

“The way your friends tell it you’re quite good.”

Harry gave Weasley and then Granger a sour look; both of them gave it right back to him, which was, admittedly, amusing.

“I can play all right,” he said vaguely, and took a swig of his drink. It did make some sort of sense, now Draco thought about it -- the tips of Harry’s fingers were far, far too calloused to have been just from casual Quidditch and Auror training. 

“You know, Harry, it actually comes off as more pretentious when you act like this,” said Granger. Weasley snorted. Harry glared at her. “Just play for him, won’t you? And us too -- it’s been ages.”

“Yeah, what’s that Muggle song you play sometimes that I like?” said Weasley.

“I dunno, I’ve played a lot of Muggle songs.”

“He means Wonderwall, Harry,” said Granger, grinning. Harry finally smiled too, and although their little Muggle joke was lost on Weasley and himself he was glad to see that it had apparently been the prodding Harry needed to give in. He set his beer back down and went to get the guitar; something about the way he threw the thin and fraying strap over his head, the way his hands went effortlessly to their places, was unexpectedly attractive. The left one curled easily around the neck of the instrument, heavily-roughened fingers finding their odd positions on the strings, something Draco had always thought looked very painful.

He plucked a few chords and then began fiddling with the knobs at the head of the guitar, tuning it in what was clearly the Muggle fashion, which against his will left Draco completely fascinated. Having no musical inclination himself, he could make nothing of the process except that Harry apparently heard the discordant notes in there well enough to be able to fix them, and finally when he brought his thumb down across all six strings it sounded as sweet and clear as if it had been done by magic.

“Course he likes Wonderwall,” Harry said to Granger even as he began playing, fingers shifting and moving and contorting to create the notes while he strummed softly, effortlessly, and the music crawled over Draco’s skin and inside of him. “I remember Dudley listening to it, like, what … summer before sixth year? On the radio constantly.”

“Sounds about right,” said Granger. 

 Draco had stopped paying attention to what they were saying, though. Either because the music itself had something haunting about its melody or because it was Harry playing it, or perhaps a combination of both, Draco felt a pit of emotion form in his chest to round off the edges of his growing arousal.

And then he started singing, and Draco swallowed very hard. Granger dropped a head onto Weasley’s shoulder and watched with a tender expression, Weasley similarly enamored. Harry had his eyes on his hands for the most part, closing them a few times throughout, looking as comfortable now as he did on a broomstick.

Only three months of official dating had not prepared Draco for the flood of emotions he now felt, yet the most pressing matter had become the semi trapped uncomfortably in his trousers. He wanted those talented fingers in his mouth, to feel the callouses on his tongue and taste Harry on them; he wanted to feel them on the sensitive skin of his inner thighs and hip bones, to have them buried so deeply in his arse that he forgot where he ended and Harry began. 

Of course, he had to keep this to himself for the next hour, until he was able to get Granger and Weasley out of the flat. And once he did, he didn’t bother dragging Harry to his bedroom -- Draco pushed him up against the front door that had just closed behind his friends and hauled him into a kiss that he felt Harry grinning into.

“I thought you seemed tetchy,” he muttered, hands dropping to Draco’s hips. “Oasis really does it for you, huh?”

“What the hell is oasis?”

“The band who does the song.”

“Yeah, I don’t think it’s the band who does it for me.” He kissed Harry again, maybe a little too hungrily, and dug a fist into his side when he started laughing. “Shut up, why the hell didn’t you ever tell me you played?”

Harry pulled his head back, looking at Draco with an arched brow and an infuriating smirk. 

“What do you mean, ever? We’ve only been together three months, it didn’t come up.”

“God,” Draco muttered, and now he reached down and pressed his palm against Harry’s cock, pleased to feel how hard he was in spite of his ruthless teasing. “You’re so annoying.”

“Well if I’d known how randy it would make you I might’ve played for you a long time ago.”

Having had quite enough of Harry’s particularly sarcastic brand of wit, he ignored this last and reached for one of his hands, removing it from his own hip and bringing it to his lips. It was extremely satisfying to watch the smirk disappear from Harry’s face when he sucked one of his fingers into his mouth. 

“Bit fetish-y, isn’t this?” Harry said breathily, eyes wide as he watched, looking half amused and half awed. In retaliation, Draco took another finger into his mouth and slid his tongue between them, tasting soap and salt, feeling the callouses on the tips of his fingers and letting that sensation grip his insides like an iron fist. “Jesus Christ,” Harry groaned; his free hand went to Draco’s jaw, holding him steady, and with a truly outstanding audacity began fucking Draco’s mouth with his fingers.

They dipped bluntly past his uvula, scraping the back of his throat so he gagged around their intrusion. Saliva built with an excessive speed that had it drooling out of the corners of his lips and coating Harry’s knuckles. Draco closed his eyes and let it happen, opening his throat against the relentless assault and curling his hands in Harry’s shirt just to steady himself. 

They were gone too soon and Harry’s mouth replaced them, much gentler but still with a tangible sense of urgency about it.

When he broke away, he said against Draco’s lips, “Like my fingers, do you?”

Draco merely nodded, feeling their wetness against his cheek. 

“Then turn around,” said Harry, “and I’ll fuck you with them.”

Draco let out a soft, embarrassing whimper and let Harry spin them around and press him against the door, cheek-first. He undid his flies himself and Harry tugged them down his legs and off his feet, allowing Draco to spread them slightly. Harry’s fingers were there immediately, sliding slick between his cheeks and over his hole. The memory of Harry’s hands on the guitar was still so fresh, his fingers changing chords effortlessly, sacrificing them to blisters and callouses and roughened skin for the music they created, and Draco closed his eyes against a fresh wave of arousal and another pang of emotion.

“You really are incredible,” said Draco, biting back a moan as two of those dexterous fingers slipped inside of him. Harry fucked him with them slowly, carefully, seeking out his prostate and angling for it each time once he’d found it. Draco turned his face to press his forehead against the door, eyes still closed, nails scraping wood. “And I like that song.”

“It’s a good one,” Harry agreed. His hot breath caressed the back of Draco’s neck, fingers pumping, his other hand back at Draco’s waist. “I have a million more I’d love to show you.”

Draco didn’t bother trying to find his voice again: instead he pushed back against Harry’s driving fingers, everything that wasn’t the relentless stabbing against his prostate driven from his mind. His neglected cock slapped against the door with every thrust, the red and irritated head dripping pre-come against the wood. Only half conscious of the decision to do so, he wrapped his hand around it and pulled and squeezed and zeroed in on the bursts of pleasure radiating outwards from inside his body until it all spilled over and he came in great pulses, gasping for breath while Harry kept at it. 

The fingers slowed as he reached his peak and began coming down but they didn’t stop, nor was his prostate given much of a break. Harry reinforced his grip on Draco’s waist and kept pumping, a steadier rhythm that nevertheless rubbed and prodded at that little bundle, making his nerves tingle and fizzle and scream out their overstimulation.

“Harry,” he said weakly, knees buckling. “Please …”

It could have been comical the way Harry followed his movement as he slid down the door to the ground, except it wasn’t. It was infuriating, actually, and felt at once like more than he could possibly handle and exactly what he needed. His forehead and his hands went back to the wood, bracing himself as Harry, kneeling behind him, continued fucking his beautiful, merciless fingers and stimulating Draco’s overworked prostate. 

He pushed a third one in alongside the other two and Draco was shocked to feel a hot tear leak out of the corner of his eye. Harry crooked them expertly, with all the confidence and surety of someone who had done this a million times, could do it in their sleep, as if it was not the guitar strings but Draco’s body he was strumming now, an instrument fine-tuned to his own particular cadence and rhythm, which he and no one else could play quite right.

Lips parted, hot breath echoing off the door and back into his face, Draco allowed himself to be taken apart with the same ferocious intensity he’d seen Harry use on the guitar. Each stroke brought him back to full hardness, each stab against his prostate made his nerves sing a tormented chorus, drowning out the pain of the wooden floor against his bare knees. 

“Shit,” Draco choked out, “I’m gonna come again …”

“Well that’s the idea,” said Harry. His voice was full of that same witty and well-meaning sarcasm Draco liked so much, even when it made him feel like punching him. Snatches of the song came back to him, Harry’s voice when he sang it, the expert shifting of his fingers where they pressed and plucked at the strings like he was making love to them. It was all so very much. 

He came a second time without even bothering to touch his cock, because he just didn’t fucking need it. His body thrummed and vibrated like a snapped rubber band while Harry coaxed him along his high and back down again. When he finally pulled his fingers out he leant forward over Draco’s back and kissed the side of his neck, then the corner of his jaw. 

“You know you make much lovelier sounds than the guitar, just so we’re clear,” he said, and Draco, with what strength he had left, shoved Harry and watched him fall sideways laughing. 

[serendipitee]

28, juke?

thank you so much for the prompt, anon! I hope you’re satisfied ;)

Number 28 from this list - one person tracing the other’s lips with a fingertip until they can’t resist any longer, tilting their chin towards them for a kiss.

Julie didn’t even know how it had happened. Well, she did know but there was just no logical explanation for it.

 Because this, this wasn’t anything like her. She didn’t end up in boys’ garages after only knowing them for a few hours. She just didn’t.

 Flynn and Carrie had finally convinced her to leave the textbooks for the night, instead spending it with them. After a lot of convincing and bribing (with the promise of an unhealthy amount of sour worms in her near future), she had agreed, letting her friends even dress her up as they deemed appropriate.

Ever since they had started college, Julie had spent most of her days inside her dorm room studying or working as a piano teacher for kids in her free time. What she definitely hadn’t done was going out.

 Flynn and Carrie definitely had, because the bouncer greeted them with a toothy grin and a high-five, waving them into the crowded bar.

 Her two best friends had quickly pushed a way through the mass of people until they had reached the counter. It had been an uncomfortable feeling, being pressed against so many strangers, the bass vibrating through her body and Julie hadn’t felt like she belonged.

 She should be studying, working her ass off to get through college as quickly as possible, so she could start making sure that no other girl would lose their mother to cancer. It was an impossible quest, she was very aware of that, but Julie had been set on it ever since leaving her mom in that hospital bed.

 “Cheers!” Carrie had handed her the first shot, something clear that smelled disgusting and Julie had swallowed it, shaking her entire body while her best friends laughed.

 Flynn had ordered them a round of drinks, the fake IDs sitting in their purses, unused. And after they had gotten their fancy cocktails, Carrie pulled them onto the dance floor.

 Moving to the music, letting her body sway to the rhythm, Julie slowly had felt more at ease, more careless. She had laughed, when a guy had tried to dance with Carrie only to be rejected by a raised eyebrow and a simple shake of her friend’s head.

 They had belted out the lyrics to all their favorite songs and then she had needed a water while her friends had stayed.

 Making her way through the dance floor, she had mumbled ‘sorry’ about two dozen times until she finally reached the bar. Leaning on her elbows, she had tried to catch the attention of one of the bar keepers but they always went right over her head.

 “Excuse me!” She had yelled for the millionth time.

 “Don’t be polite,” a voice had laughed right into her ear, a chest pressing against her back, two arms bracketing her, as he was shoved from behind.

 She had turned around, about to give him a lesson in manners and boundaries because personal space, when brown met green.

 He had been sweaty, strands of hair sticking to his forehead and she couldn’t help glancing at his bare arms in his cut-offs which he strangely enough seemed to pull off.

 “Excuse me?” It had slipped out before she could think about it.

 A laugh had rumbled through his chest, transformed his face and damn, it had been gorgeous. He had leant even closer. “You need to toughen up.”

 His lips had been brushing against her ear and Julie had tried to suppress the shiver running down her back. She had obviously failed if his smirk was anything to go by.

 “What do you suggest?” She had asked, getting on her tip toes and close to his ear. The way he had pulled in his bottom lip as she fell back didn’t go unnoticed.

 He had whispered clear instructions into her ear and Julie had done her best not to get distracted by those damn arm muscles. Finally, he had leant back and she had watched him critically.

 “And that works?”

 “Every time,” he had shrugged.

 “If I die of dehydration, it’s your fault.” She had pointed her finger at him, tempted to poke his chest, check if it was as firm as it looked.

 “I’ll make sure you won’t,” he had answered, getting pushed into her from behind again and Julie had found, that she didn’t even mind.

 One last look at him, she had turned around. The dark-haired bartender had been about to pass by her again when she yelled, “Yo, Bobby!”

 His name obviously had gotten his attention, because he stopped to check who had called for him. Julie had leant further onto the bar. “Two screwdrivers and a smile!”

 Bobby’s eyes had gotten big as he had locked in on her. Then. they had wandered over her head. Rolling his eyes, he had stepped up to them. “Fuck off, Patterson. You’re not getting your drinks for free because a pretty girl orders them for you.”

 Julie had blushed a little, especially when the boy had leaned against her, so he wouldn’t have to yell as loud. “Love you, too.”

 Ignoring him, the bartender had turned to her, throwing on a winning smile. “So, do you actually want a screwdriver or did that asshole tell you to say that?”

 “Both,” she had answered truthfully.

 For a moment, his eyes had flitted back to his friend’s – Julie assumed that they were friends, after all he knew the guy’s surname – and then he had sighed. “Coming right up.”

 Grinning triumphantly, she had turned back to the boy. He had laughed, his arms touching her bare shoulders and Julie had joined him, the energy bubbling inside her.

 Bobby had waved her off when she wanted to pay. “It’s on the house. But only for you, not for him.”

 Huffing, the guy had called out, “Try to be on time for rehearsal tomorrow!”

 Flipping him off, Bobby had turned to the next customer and Julie’s curiosity had sparked.

 “Rehearsal?” She had asked.

 “We’re in a band. Sunset Curve.” He had suddenly seemed a little bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck, biting his lip.

 Julie hadn’t been able to squash down her excitement and had asked him question after question. It had been too long since she had talked about music with somebody who loved it just as much as she did.

 Shortly after, they had left the bar, sat down at the curb outside, talking about their favorite song-writers and the stuff they were working on respectively.

 Their shoulders had bumped against each other constantly, a spark traveling down her spine every time, settling in her stomach. It had kept her warm against the cool October night.

 And then somehow, they had ended up at the garage they called their studio. Had ended up sitting on the couch, his guitar across his lap, notebook open in front of them and Julie didn’t even know his name but she didn’t care because there were so many other things she knew about him, that he knew about her. Everything had just, clicked. It hadn’t felt like they had only known each other for a few hours.

 And now, here they were. In a situation Julie never would have imagined herself in when the night started.

 “That’s amazing,” she breathed out after he had shown her one of his songs, the last chord ringing through the room.

 His smile was blinding, drawing her eyes to his lips.

 “You, um, you wanna sing the next one with me? You do sing, right?” He asked.

 Julie chuckled sadly. “I used to. With my mom, but I haven’t sung in a really long time.”

 He leaned towards her, shoulders brushing and Julie realized suddenly that they were completely alone. Well, they had been for a while but somehow it felt very different now. Had her heart always beat that hard against her ribcage?

 “I won’t tell anyone,” he promised, throwing in a wink.

 She laughed quietly, noting the way his eyes wandered to her lips and she filed that information away, pleased.

 “Can you play me another one?” She asked to distract him.

 He seemed to know what she was doing, but he still turned to another page in his notebook. Checking in with her, he started strumming, his fingers finding their way confidently.

 Julie would be lying if she said, it didn’t turn her on. She had always had a thing for musicians, guitarists in particular. Her everlasting crush on Nick all through high school was only further proof of that.

 When he started singing, she couldn’t help staring because he was good, really good and so were the lyrics. She took the notebook, knowing that the song was probably engrained on his mind already and read along. By the second verse she found herself humming and when he reached the chorus, she was surprised to find that she was singing.

 He missed a chord, fingers slipping for a moment but then his smile grew, especially when she added harmonies at the end.

 It was quiet when they finished, a silence charged with electricity. Their eyes locked, brown meeting green and Julie didn’t dare move.

 “You do sing,” he finally whispered, his breath hitting her lips, voice rough.

 She smiled slowly, trying to dismiss it. “It’s a good song.”

 “You made it better.” He sounded so sincere that Julie couldn’t help but break the eye-contact.

 She was blushing furiously under his gaze, shaking her head. “I haven’t done anything. I haven’t actually sung in—”

 Her voice trailed off, as he touched her chin, turning it towards her. His thumb carefully touched her bottom lip. “Your voice is” – he made a sound at the back of his throat – “like a wrecking ball.”

 Julie tried to shake her head but he wouldn’t let her. His thumb traced along her lower lip instead and the touch made her body freeze, while her heart raced in her chest.

 She didn’t even know his name, was the one thought running through her mind on repeat, as he slowly leaned closer.

 “I don’t even know your name,” she blurted out, his thumb stopping its way.

 He chuckled. “I don’t know yours, either.”

 “It’s Julie.”

 “Julie.” He said it like it was something precious and she liked the way his lips formed it. “Julie…”

 She found herself nodding. The air around them seemed to be filled with sparks and butterflies. She felt them inside her and on her skin, fluttering every time he moved his thumb or his breath hit her face. Every heart beat between them intensified the feeling, a feeling she had never experienced before and yet felt so achingly familiar, it should scare her.

 It didn’t.

 “Luke.” She spoke his name for the first time, breathing it out like it could break on the tip of her tongue.

 He stilled, his thumb slipping from her lip, resting on her chin. A heartbeat, two, three passed, then he tilted her chin up. The sparks thrummed with electricity, the butterflies danced excitedly on her skin and inside her chest.

 Closing the space between them, Julie kissed him, surprising him if the little gasp was any indication.

 No kiss had ever felt like this, all consuming, like an electric hammer to the heart, the butterflies swarming around them, following their hands, their lips, their eyes as they fell into each other.

 Years down the road, Flynn and Carrie would still take credit for their relationship. After all, they never would have met without them.

 Julie liked to think, they would’ve. Someday, somehow, they would’ve found each other.

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #20: My Turn: Mirio Togata

In which Mirio’s got a game for you. 

Characters: Mirio Togata x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!), aged up characters, fingering, teasing, edging, tears, Mirio trying his hardest not to be a sunshine boi and only sort of failing

Notes: See? See? I can do thirst. I can make it SEXY. Today’s prompt was “Edging” and I just loved the thought of Mirio trying his best to be a little kinky for you. He’s definitely got a filthy side. 

Kinktober Masterlist

It’s a windy Saturday night in November and you’re curled in bed early with Mirio. Raindrops roll along the bias of your windowpane and the wind howls past your upper-level apartment.

But you don’t feel an ounce of cold, with Mirio- warm like the hearth- stretched out next to you. You’ve been like this all day, in and out of bed with episodes of a fluffy sitcom playing constantly in the background.

Now, though, as the chill of the evening’s pushed you closer together, your hands are starting to wander. It’s lazy at first- his rough palm up the edge of your thigh, your fingers dancing along his bicep. You’re easing into one another, and though you can feel the warm apex of where you’ll end up drawing near, you’re in no rush to get there.

Not yet, anyway. You’re about to eat those words.

“Princess,” he croons in your ear, drawing his lips up the side of your neck, “play a game with me?”

“Okay,” you giggle back as warmth blooms across your skin, following the path of his mouth. “But you picked Bananagrams last time, so this time I get to pick. Scrabble.”

He chuckles low and warm into your shoulder. Just the reaction you were hoping for. But he knows you’ve caught on, so he doesn’t even offer you a response. His mood has completely shifted.

That’s what you love so much about him.

“I wanna see how long you can last,” he murmurs. His fingers continue to trace up and down your thigh, as if he’s coaxing you around to the idea. But to you, it sounds like you’re going to get to do a whole lot of nothing while Mirio does his best to please you.

You don’t need any more coaxing than that.

“Like, without coming?” You hum, shifting a little so you can get a proper look at his face. He flicks his eyes up to yours, looking a little sheepish, but sure.

“Yeah. Y’know. I wanna test your stamina.”

You’re not exactly sure how to tell him that stamina isn’t a problem for you. He’s certainly never fallen short of satisfying you, but most of your sex life has been characterised by getting there in the first place, let alone measuring how long it takes you. You’ve never really had to hold out before- at least, not like he has.

This is going to be a cinch for you.

“Alright.” You smirk, but he’s one step ahead of you, already sliding his hand to your belly and starting to inch it toward the bottom of your shirt. You’ve got a flannel buttoned over your shoulders to keep the chill out, but it’s your day off and there’s no possible way he could have convinced you to wear pants.

Not that he’d tried.

He dips his face into your neck again, starting to kiss and lave his tongue over your delicate skin. You lean into the sensation eagerly, letting your eyes flutter shut as his fingers work their way toward the apex of your thighs.

The laugh track sounds quietly from the television as you let yourself relax. Mirio’s fingers are chilled as they dip into the hem of your panties, but he’s thrilled by the opportunity to pay you this kind of attention. He’s always so eager to get his hands on you. And you’re hardly ever in a position to deny him.

“I knew you were holdin’ out on me, princess,” he chuckles as his middle finger curls against your slit. You’re already growing wet with the anticipation of his touch, the shivers that his attentive mouth sent over your skin. He turns your chin with his free hand and drops a lazy kiss to your lips. All the while, he continues to gently explore your folds, working you open for him.

As he draws his wrist up to search for the swell of your clit, you’re starting to wonder if you do need to worry about your stamina. He’s barely touched you and already you’re starting to get those lovely little twinges of pleasure that have your hips twitching beneath his touch.

He grins, pulling his mouth teasingly from yours. “You’re gonna tell me if you’re about to cum, right?”

You never realized that his game was going to come with so many rules. But you know your own body- you’re more than ready to follow them.

“In that case, you might want to slow down, baby,” you breathe. Mirio laughs, nuzzling your neck and breathing hot puffs of air across your skin. The pad of his middle finger centers on your clit and he starts to circle in earnest.

“I could,” he quips, “or I could make it harder on you.”

His wrist flicks deftly back and forth between your legs. There’s something about the spot he’s found that’s tantalizingly perfect, and you can feel the tension building in the pit of your stomach. You purse your lips tightly, ready to ride that wave.

“Ooh,” you sigh, gripping Mirio’s thigh hard. “I’m close, baby.”

“That so?” He grunts in your ear. There’s an unfamiliar edge to his tone, but you don’t pick up on it yet.

“Yeah,” you whine, and he pulls his hand clean out of your panties. Your hips arch as you give a sullen little whimper. Immediately, you turn to face him.

“Why’d you stop?”

Mirio’s grinning. Normally, that grin sets you at ease. But there’s something about it today that sends a spike of nerves through your belly. He’s planning something.

You’re not sure you want to know what it is. You’re also not sure he’s going to give you a choice in the matter.

“I didn’t want the game to be over so soon, princess. C’mere.”

He slips a beefy arm around your waist and tugs you easily into his lap, situating you between his splayed thighs and letting you lean back against his chest. From there, he digs his fingers into the hem of your panties and tugs them down your thighs, helping you kick them off.

“Just relax,” he croons. “Watch TV. I gotcha.”

He brings his fingers to your pussy again, this time sliding his other hand under your thigh to join. He sinks two thick fingers into your slit, rubbing tight circles into your clit again. It doesn’t take you long at all to reach the edge. Before you can even warn him this time, Mirio stops again.

“Mirio,” you plead softly, but he’s still chuckling and nuzzling you, over and over again.

“You’re so cute when you want something from me. C’mon, let’s go again.”

He brings you to the edge one more time like that, pushing you so close you can practically taste the relief. When he pulls away for the third time, you’re squirming and fussing in between his legs.

“Let me cum,” you whimper. You’re not even proud about asking for it anymore. He shifts, crawling out from behind you and easing you onto your back.

“Don’t worry,” he continues. “I gotcha, princess. You think I’m gonna leave you high and dry?”

You glare daggers up at him, and he just shoots you an easy wink as he slips between your thighs.

“You’re getting tender down here,” he purrs, nosing his way up your inner thigh as he settles onto his belly. “Y’almost ready for me?”

“I was ready for you weeks ago,” you grumble. You can’t stay angry for long when he puffs hot air over your clit, then drags his tongue along the folds of your pussy and swirls.

He eats you out like a man starved, holding your hips taught against his mouth as he fucks you with his tongue. When you’re sure you can’t take any more, he lifts his chin, tonguing the swell of your clit and making you scream.

But he still doesn’t let you go. He pulls back from your pussy as you start to tremble, and when he does you let out a sob of such frustration that, when you open your eyes, his brow is creased with legitimate concern.

“Why won’t you let me cum?” You blubber.

“Aw, man.” Mirio stretches out next to you and pulls you into his arms. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, princess, I-I just wanted to try something new with you. I-I thought…”

“Please,” you sniffle, “please, Mirio, just fuck me, before I do it myself.”

He pauses and looks down at you in shock. For a moment, his eyes search yours. Then he breaks down, grinning fondly at you.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Alright.”

He gets back between your legs, shucking his boxer-briefs and quickly stripping out of his t-shirt. As soon as he’s bare you can see how much he’s been enjoying your little game. His cock is already rock solid, flushed and curving perfectly towards his belly.

“God,” he sighs, casting a gaze over your desperate form. “Look at you.”

He pushes your flannel up around your chest, exposing your ribcage and your chest.  His thumbs strum your nipples. Then he grips your hips, positioning himself and easing smoothly into you.

Your head falls back against the pillows. Utter bliss.

But you can’t trust this pleasure.

He starts rocking his hips forward, undulating into you with dull cries of you’re so tight for me, princess, and I can’t believe you made it this far.

You don’t last much longer than that.

As soon as he settles into a familiar rhythm, the slap of his body against yours is enough to push you precariously close. You squirm underneath him, doing your best to hold out.

“Miri…Mirio, c-can I…” you choke, peering up at him as he continues to fuck you diligently.

“Of course, princess, shit,” he sighs, buckling over you. “Let go for me. Please. I wanna see it.”

The build-up has been immense. And the fall does not disappoint. You tumble over the edge like an avalanche, seizing hard around him as you grip his hips tightly with your trembling thighs. Your back pulls clean off the bed.

Your vision goes white.

When the spots clear he’s panting above you, his cock already going soft inside you. But you don’t care. He made good on his promise- you are neither high nor dry.

“There you go,” he coos, pressing tender kisses across your collar bones and down your shoulders. “That’s it. God, you’re so pretty when you’re coming your brains out.”

You muster a weak chuckle, pulling him into your arms as he collapses beside you. The TV is still playing, and you slowly settle back into watching together as you bask in the afterglow of Mirio’s vicious game.

“So that was… okay, in the end,” he finally says, tracing a fingertip down the buttons of your flannel as you tug the warm fabric back into place.

“Yeah,” you agree sleepily. “It was fun.”

“So we can do it again sometime?” He quips carefully. You purse your lips, pretending to mull it over.

“Sure.”

He bolts upright. “Really?”

You pillow your arms behind your head and smirk.

“Yeah. Only next time it’s my turn.”

[rosecoloredbi-writes]

When the Spark Came Back

Summary: Y/N and Steve dating in high school until suddenly, they weren't. Steve had pushed Y/N away with no explanation. Years later, Y/N finds Steve on stage playing with his band and gathers the nerve to take a step towards healing.

A/N: there is a part 2 to this that I'll be posting momentarily.

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: Swearing? Mentions of parents divorce and kicking their kid out, I think that's it.

It had been too long since you had seen him. You think of the time that has passed by cruelly. Back then you had all been so full of life, so excited for the future, and now, here you were: a jaded 25 year old just looking for relief. College had been good to you, you grew into your own person instead of staying on the steady path of who everyone else had wanted you to be. You opened your arms to adventures rather than shrink from them. You put what you wanted first, and loved yourself first.

The thing that was cruel about time is that now, you no longer felt that excitement about life. Instead you dreaded facing the next day and drug your feet around.

But everything was different around him.

The steady beat of the bass filled your senses. The vibration practically waking you up from the awful nightmare life had been. Then you saw him, and your heart finally felt less heavy. He began strumming his guitar easily and you started singing along. Then you felt the warm glow in your chest and a blush rose to your cheeks as the memories started flooding back.

He had been your first love. In high school he was popular. Everyone loved him or was jealous of him. Eventually, a new boy moved to town and dethroned him of his title of King of Hawkins. He chilled out then. Became more down to earth, and that is when you really began to notice him. He hung out with kids around your sister’s age and could be found driving them to the arcade or bowling or every once in a while he would take them out one on one to get ice cream. He was more tender than he ever allowed himself to be.

To your surprise, he had begun to notice you too. He noticed the way you would shyly smile at him anytime he caught your eye. The way your eyes would light up when you got passionate in classes, and eventually on dates. He noticed everything and was quickly smitten.

The lead singer asked the crowd how they were doing, and the erupting cries brought you back into the present. He was just as lovely now as he ever had been. He had grown out of some of his boyish features, but his eyes still shined with childlike innocence. He still had his long wavy hair that he would run his hands through when they weren’t busy attending to the guitar strings and gripping the neck of his guitar.

You allowed yourself to get lost in the music, but as the concert came to an end you were filled with anxiety. Coming here had been a terrible decision. What if he had forgotten about you? What if that flame you still secretly held had fizzled out over the years apart? You knew that was a huge possibility, but your heart still silently thumped in hope that maybe, just maybe he still felt the same. Even though he had hurt you there had to be a reason, right? You don’t go from being absolutely in love to not overnight.. right?

Your feet carried you to the merch table where the band was hanging out, talking to fans and signing shirts and vinyls, and taking photos. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you heard your voice call out to him.

“Steve?” you yelled a little more than you asked. You closed your eyes for the briefest of moments and took in a deep inhale. When you opened your eyes, his were glued to you.

“Y/N? Is that really you?” he asked as he closed the large gap between the two of you.

“Ha, yeah, it’s me…” you answered, playing with your hair to give your hands something to do. “Uh, hi.” you smiled shyly up at him and suddenly you were both back in high school.

“Hey! Hi. Uh, you are Y/N, right?” Steve asked, running his hands through his hair quickly.

“Yeah… do you need something?” you asked. That would be the only obvious reason Steve Harrington would ever talk to you. Maybe he needed notes from a class or something.

“Actually yes,” he said smiling, “I am in desperate need of your number.”

Your eyes grew wide with shock, but you nodded, knowing words were not going to help you at the moment. You grabbed a pen from your bookbag and quickly wrote down your phone number on his hand, double-checking it to make sure you wrote it down correctly in your fuzzy state.

You hadn’t noticed then, but Steve blushed at the contact of your hands and he swore he had fallen in love with you right then and there.

Steve wrapped his arms around you in a soul-crushing hug that you wished could have lasted forever. Much to your disdain, you were the one to pull back, looking over him all sweaty and still pumped from playing with his band. When your eyes met his, you realized he had been staring too.

“Do you want to get some food once I am done here?” he asked, running his hands through his hair quickly.

You nodded, “I can wait over there?” you said pointing to a few benches, “Take your time, I don’t mind.”

Steve pulled you into another hug before you walked over and sat down.

You watched him interact with fans, and couldn’t help but feel the familiar rush of butterflies anytime he looked at you. You busied yourself staring at your hands and picking carefully at your nails, an anxious habit you had. You smoothed out the black, denim mini skirt you were wearing a few times and retucked your t-shirt until you were satisfied with how it looked and cleaned your glasses. Finding anything to help keep your nerves down.

Finally, you felt a hand on your knee and looked over to find Steve kneeling in front of you, smiling up at you, just like he would in high school.

“You ready?” he asked, offering his hand to help you up.

You took his hand and allowed him to pull you up before answering, “Hell yes I am ready.”

You both decided it would be best if you drove since the vehicle Steve had access to was the band’s tour van. So there you were, driving down the street to your favorite diner. It was still hard to think straight, him being so close to you, but you managed to drive safely in your dad’s old VW Bug. Once the car was parked and you were both out of the car, instinct took over and you grabbed his hand, leading him inside to your favorite booth near the kitchen.

After you had both sat there awkwardly staring at the menu for far too long and the food got there, the conversation started flowing freely. You guys talked about what you’ve been up to, college for you, the band for him. How your families were, how you handled the death of your father. You found out that Steve had gotten a dog, which had been his dream since he was younger, but never could because his parents weren’t around long enough for him to ever bring it up.

“Okay, Steve… I have to ask. What happened?” Your eyebrows drew up, worried about the answer you may get. “I mean… What happened to us? Did you not love me anymore? Was there someone else? I have just been so confused all these years. I haven’t been able to get over you because you never gave me closure.”

Steve thought long and hard before answering and stared long and hard at the mostly eaten burger in front of him. Steve looked like he was going to open his mouth, but stopped for a moment. Instead, he looked you in the eyes before reaching to grab your hand. Something that had always been comforting to you.

“After we graduated, I seriously felt like there was nothing we couldn’t do. That it would always just be me and you and we could take on the world. Then, my parents were home for a while if you remember. They had seemed like they were closer than ever, and I was so happy. I had my parents and I had you and we were no longer stuck in high school. Then, I watched as my parent’s marriage fell apart… and it shook me. It really should not have been a surprise, they generally acted like things were wonderful and they were happy before shit hit the fan. But this shit was permanent. They announced their impending divorce and that I should look at moving into my own place. I just… I couldn’t handle it. I mean, we had been looking at places to move into together, but this made me feel like I was being kicked out of my family. That my family didn’t really exist anymore.” Steve took his hand back for a moment and ran them through his hair a couple of times.

“Y/N, I felt like I had nothing. I know I had you, but the only way I knew how to cope with things was to push everything and everyone as far away as possible. I have regretted not saying goodbye to you every single day since and it has torn me apart. I so wish I could have explained everything to you, and maybe things wouldn’t be the way they are now.” Again he looked at you intensely, but his eyes were soft, before continuing.

“If you need to get over me, I understand. I was so, so selfish 7 years ago. But I also need you to know that I am still in love with you. Seeing you today, it was almost like the lights had come back on. I have been living in the darkness I didn’t know about until today and I will be damned if I don’t say something. Just… please think about it? I know so much time has passed and we are probably so different than we were, but I would be so honored to get to know you again.”

It looked as if tears were welling up in his eyes that he was willing to not spill over.

“Steve, you really hurt me. I need you to understand that one day we were attached at the hip and just, so enthralled with each other, and the next, you were gone. It was almost like you had died in the middle of the night. If you were to leave me again like that, I honestly think it would break me into pieces that could not be mended.”

You took a deep breath, soaking in everything, including the way your eyes began to fill with tears and even let them spill over onto your cheeks, finally getting the relief you have needed for so long. You dabbed at your face with a napkin and looked back up at Steve, who sat there utterly heartbroken at seeing the hurt spill out from you.

After another deep breath, you finished your thoughts.

“I would love to get to know you again too, Steve Harrington.”

[flowercrown-bard]

I'm just thinking about the first time Jaskier learns that Geralt names every horse he gets Roach. Does this amuse Jaskier? Does he realise the abandonment issues involved? Is Geralt nervous or embarrassed to tell him? Does this count as a prompt? I'm not sure if it does but I hope your day gets better!

that absolutely counts as a prompt! thank you :)

A Horse by Any Other Name

The insistent strumming of the lute was starting to get on Geralt’s nerves. One would think by now he’d be able to tune it out, but no. It was like everything the bard did was demanding Geralt’s full attention. The bard would probably let it get to his head if he knew, insisting that Geralt liked having him near or some such nonsense.

“The mighty steed by the name of Roach

Loyal even when a monster approach…es.”

The notes faltered as the bard stumbled over the words of his new song for the umpteenth time. “Damn it.”

Geralt’s lips twitched upwards, when the bard picked up the tune again, trying in vain to find a decent rhyme.

Eventually he gave up. Finally, some silence. Though not for long.

“Really, Geralt. Roach? How am I supposed to fit that into any song? She deserves to be sung about, but nothing makes a decent rhyme for that name and if I change the syntax it doesn’t fit the metre anymore.” He scoffed and put the lute onto his back. “Sometimes I think you only named her that to spite me. Roach! You couldn’t have picked literally any other name, could you? Something that would sound good in a ballad about heroism and adventure maybe?”

Geralt grunted. “No.”

His jaw clenched. The bard had no right to demand such a thing. It was none of his business what Geralt called his horse. Roach wasn’t here to be a shining accessory to the bard’s songs. She was his companion.

Despite his time at the theatre, the bard didn’t know how to take a cue. Geralt’s frown and obvious dismissal must not have been obvious enough for him.

The bard skipped some steps ahead, until he was walking backwards, looking at him with an impish grin.

“Oh…that almost sounds like it has a story behind it.” He spread his arms widely. “The great tale of why Roach is the only acceptable name for this valiant mare.”

“There isn’t one.” None that the bard would get to hear any time soon, at least.

Geralt guided Roach around the bard and urged her on to walk faster.

“Come on!” He ignored the bard calling after him. “Tell me!”

“Fuck off, bard.”

Geralt didn’t look back, but after a few seconds he heard an indignant huff and the sound of hurried footsteps.

The bard didn’t broach the subject again. Almost a week had passed and Geralt was starting to relax, hoping against his better judgement that the bard had lost interest. Experience should have told him that this hope was stupid.

As per usual Geralt was riding on horse while the bard walked behind him like a stone stuck in one’s shoe, annoying and likely to still be there, even when one thought they had finally gotten rid of it for good. And as per usual the bard was talking.

“My feet are killing me, Geralt! Don’t ever let me put on these shoes when we are going for a long walk again. Gorgeous as they are, they are not made for adventuring.”

Geralt grunted and damn it, he was unable to keep the amusement out of his voice.

The bard must have picked up on it, because he doubled down, sighing overdramatically.

“You could save me from my misery, you know? You are supposed to be my hero. My knight in shining armour. So, if we keep travelling together for much longer, you could just let me ride –“

“No,” Geralt said, though at this point it was more to see the bard’s reaction than anything else. He was loath to admit it, but the bard had a point. If he were to stick around, it would be better if he didn’t have to walk everywhere. It was slowing them down and it would do no good for the bard to get blisters. If for some reason the bard would ever get in danger, being exhausted from a long walk would prove fatal.

Geralt ground his teeth together. He shouldn’t be thinking such things. There would be no travelling together. Soon enough the bard would get tired of trailing after Geralt and find someone else to latch onto, probably some pretty woman who openly showered him in adoration.

The bard’s huff brought him back to the here and now, in which the bard was still very much by his side.

“Fine then. Maybe in the next town I will just buy my own horse. And I will give it a truly beautiful name, one that can actually be used in my poetry. Like Pegasus. That is a name worthy of ballads.”

Geralt tensed. He didn’t mean to, but his heels must have dug into Roach’s sides, for she made a disgruntled sound.

The bard chuckled. “Don’t worry, Roach, my dear.” The bard came closer and gently stroked her nostrils. Geralt couldn’t help the relief he felt when Roach didn’t snap at the bard, biting the fingers that he so dearly needed for his playing. “You are still my one and only Roach.”

“She isn’t.”

The words were out before Geralt could stop himself.

The way the bard rolled his eyes was far too exaggerated for him to be truly annoyed. “Oh hush, you can stop it with your boorishness. I know you get touchy about her, but you can’t deny that Roach and I have become friends.” He paused. “Just like you can’t deny that we have become friends.”

Geralt could and very much would deny that as often as he must until the bard finally saw reason. Geralt’s jaw worked while the bard looked up at him challengingly.

Ah fuck it.

“That’s not what I meant. She isn’t the only Roach.” He paused, trying to find the right words. “Not the first one anyway.”

“The first one?” Despite Geralt avoiding the bard’s eyes, he could see his expression turn confused. “You mean there were others before her? And there will be Roaches after her?”

Geralt nodded curtly. And that was that. At least as far as Geralt was concerned. The bard obviously had a different view on things.

“So that’s why you didn’t want to talk about her name!” There was a smile in his voice that had no business being there. “It’s alright, you know. I won’t judge you for not being creative with names. Happens to the best of us. To be frank, I think it’s quite endearing.”

Geralt snapped around sharply. “Stop talking about things you know nothing about.”

He was about to spurn Roach on, just to get away from the conversation and the uncomfortably tight feeling in his chest, when he noticed that the bard had fallen eerily quiet.

Geralt risked a glance over his shoulder to find the bard staring at the ground, where he was kicking a stone in front of him, apparently lost in thought. Geralt didn’t know what to make of it. He knew he was gruff and just overall not good company, but he hadn’t thought that he would actually manage to get the bard to shut up. Somehow it didn’t sit right with him. As much as the constant chatter could be annoying, it was part of the bard and losing it felt a step closer to the inevitable. Still, he didn’t know what to do about it. He had never been good at keeping things close.

He almost slumped in relief, when the bard spoke up again, quieter this time and with none of the dramatics and exaggerated emotion of a performance. “What was the first Roach like?”

Geralt’s breath hitched. It had been so long since he had taken the time to think back to the first one, even though the memory never left him.

When Geralt didn’t immediately answer, the bard swallowed and averted his eyes. “Sorry. Ignore my question. I don’t actually want you to talk about things you don’t want to talk about.”

“He wasn’t mine,” Geralt said, unsure how much the bard was willing to hear, but feeling the strange need to tell him anyway. “When I became a witcher, I didn’t have a horse. I was quite disappointed about that actually.” His lips twitched. “It would have fit into the ridiculous idea I had about being some heroic defender of mankind.”

The bard started fidgeting and pressed his lips together, like he was burning to say something, but holding back to let Geralt talk. Geralt wouldn’t admit it, but he was grateful for it.

“The first monster I killed…. let’s just say the one I saved didn’t exactly see me as a defender.” His brows drew together at the memory. “After she regained consciousness, she ran away as fast as she could. Didn’t care that she had left her horse behind. I didn’t want him either. I was no hero and I was too bitter to think of how useful a horse would be.

“But he kept following me around.” A smile stole itself onto Geralt’s face. “Just wouldn’t leave me behind, that stubborn horse. For a week or so I didn’t give him a name. I wasn’t planning on keeping him. It was only when I had to choose between spending my coin on food for him or for myself that I decided to name him. I caught my own food that day – a roach – and figured it was a good enough name. It wasn’t the best, but I wasn’t going to keep the horse for long anyway. He didn’t leave though. Stayed with me until he wasn’t able to run fast enough when a griffin got away from me.”

There was that silence again. It was what Geralt had wanted, wasn’t it? For the bard to be quiet. But this silence was heavy, filled with something Geralt didn’t dare name, lest he would have to admit to himself that the bard wasn’t just some idiot who only followed him because he hadn’t yet realised the foolishness of it.  

He scoffed, filled with the unexpected need to hear the bard react in some way.

“You satisfied?” Geralt’s voice sounded bitter even in his own ears. “Is that something you can make a song out of?”

“No. I don’t think I will,” the bard said quietly, thoughtfully. So unlike the way Geralt was used to hearing him speak. He wasn’t sure if he minded it. “Thank you for telling me.”

Geralt grunted, his throat suddenly dry. For a terrifying moment, he had come so close to making a fool of himself by thanking the bard for listening.

When he looked at the bard out of the corner of his eye, he had a tiny smile dancing on his lips.

“It’s good to finally know that she is named after the fish.” Something loosened inside Geralt at the bard’s light-hearted words. “For the longest time I thought our dearest Roach was named after a cockroach and that would have just been a strange name.”

Geralt huffed, but didn’t hide the tiny smile that tugged at his lips. “Says someone named after a flower.”

The hearty laugh was enough to vanquish the last of the heaviness around Geralt’s chest that made it hard to breathe.

“So you do know my name after all.” The bard cocked his head to the side, smile still in place. “I had begun to wonder if you just didn’t know and reached a point where it would have been embarrassing to ask.”

“Hard to miss the name people shout when they chase you out of their rooms.”

The bard grinned. “Not to mention the multitude of adoring fans shouting my name. As they will yours once I make you famous.”

Geralt snorted.

“Actually, could you halt Roach for a moment? There’s been a pebble stuck inside my shoe for forever now and I really need to get rid of it.”

Geralt lifted a brow, but did as the bard had said. His breathe got stuck in his throat when the bard placed a hand on his leg for balance, as he took one boot off.

The smile on the bard’s face when he had finally managed to shake the pebble out of it was incredibly smug.

“Alright then, onwards!”

Geralt hesitated. “Come here.”  

“What?”

“I said come here. Onto Roach. I want to reach town before nightfall and I can’t do that when stones keep getting stuck in your shoes.”

For a heartbeat, the bard looked at Geralt with an unreadable expression, before a grin spread across his face.

It was only when he was sat behind Geralt with his arms slung around him, that the bard spoke again. “Just in case you were worried. I am not going to leave you, Geralt.”

Geralt sighed, but somehow the annoyance he had come to expect at such a declaration didn’t come.

“I am afraid you’re right, Jaskier.”

[thegingerwriter]

The Vegas of Hollywood Chapter 3

CREDIT TO GIF CREATOR. I DO NOT OWN THE GIF.

You can find Chapter 1 here, and my masterlist here.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: None fam. PG13

Pronouns: She/her

Perspective: First

Note: Fam I’m sorry it’s been like 3 weeks. I’m graduating. 

It was about 35 minutes after Julie told us we had to leave, and Alex and Luke wandered off. I assumed that they went and saw Julie at the house. I’m sure that would have gone down well- considering she was currently the only person who could actually see us.

Reggie and I hung around the studio, looking for some of our old stuff, Reggie soon finding his bass. I found my old guitar, as well as my keyboard. I know I was frequently called our lead pianist, but I only ever got to use the keyboard when we were playing specific gigs. Soon after we had started getting more major gigs, I played the guitar more often, while also singing with Luke.

I walked over to Reggie holding his bass, smiling at his now comfortable stance. “I know it was only a couple hours for us, but you look happy to have her back.” I said.

He smiled, nodding as he played a few chords. “Always.”

“Are Alex and Luke ever coming back?” I asked, and Reggie motioned with his head for me to come closer.

I obliged, stepping closer as he swung the bass strap off his torso. He looped it over me, letting the strap rest against my shoulder to go across my chest.

“Oh, come on, you know I’m terrible at bass.” I complained, but Reggie only laughed slightly, turning me around by putting his hands on my waist.

He pulled me gently against his chest, his arms reaching around to place his hands over mine and guide them to the right places on the bass.

“I got you, it’s fine.” He said gently as he noticed I hadn’t relaxed. I let out a breath and laughed slightly at my nervousness.

“I hate this” I jokingly whinged again, but Reggie continued to ignore me.

“Just place your fingers here,” He moved my hand. “And then this hand here. And then you just…” I strummed it, satisfied with the sound as he guided my fingers to pluck more strings. Soon we were playing a tune together, letting out little laughs every now and then.

I didn’t even notice Luke and Alex poofed into the room until I heard Alex sit down at his drum set.

“Mind if we join you?” Alex asked. When I looked at him, he had this particular smile he always had on whenever he found Reggie and I doing something like this. I stuck my tongue out at him.

“You guys took your time.” Reggie joked, tightening his arms around me, and placing a kiss on my shoulder.

“Get a room.” Luke laughed, picking up his guitar and throwing the strap over his head.

All of us laughed, smiling at each other.

Alex started with his drums, the beat coursing through the floor as so I could feel it in the soles of my shoes.

I wanted to play my guitar, or at least my keyboard, but Reggie was persistent, and refused to let me pull away, causing me to laugh. I soon gave in, the bass joining the beat Alex was playing, and the tune that Luke had started.

I realised that it felt good. I know it wasn’t that long for us, but in truth, it felt like forever since we had played together just because we could. We had been so wrapped up in practicing to play for the Orpheum, that we hadn’t played for fun in ages.

We jammed for a few minutes, before something pulled us away from our music.

“What are you doing?!” A voice shouted over the top of our music. Julie had just stomped into the room, her face telling me she distressed about something. I had a sneaking suspicion it was us.

We stopped playing.

“Oh, hi Julie!” Luke said, a smile on his face as he waved at her. She still didn’t look impressed.

“The entire neighbourhood can hear you! My Dad can hear you.” She said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Julie’s eyes shifted to Reggie and I’s position, raising an eyebrow slightly- and we broke apart before she could say anything else.

“Wait,” Alex stood up. “You’re saying people can hear us play?” As far as I knew, Julie was the only one who could hear or see us.

“Yes! Everyone can! I thought I told you to leave!”

“People can hear us play music!” Reggie yelled beside my excitedly. The four of us couldn’t help getting excited with him. This was the one thing all of us had that we wanted to share with the rest of the world forever. And apparently, we got that.

“So only you can see us, but everyone can hear us?” I asked, unable to contain the slight bounce in my walk as I stepped slightly closer to Julie.

“People can hear us play!” Luke exclaimed, and I turned around just in time to be a part of a four-way fist bump.

Reggie pulled me into his side. “We may be dead, but our music isn’t.”

“Enough, oh my gosh!” Julie looked close to stomping her foot repeatedly on the ground like a child that wasn’t getting her way. To be fair, I would not have reacted calmly to three ghosts showing up in my studio, and then continuing to hang around and play their ghost music.

We looked at her in concern, trying to predict what she was going to say next.

“Why can’t you guys be normal ghosts?” We stared at her and she rolled her eyes. “Hang out in an old mansion! I hear Pasadena’s nice!” She turned towards the door, obviously frustrated with the one-sided conversation, and stormed out. That’s twice in one night.

“Is she… warming up to us?” Alex said hopefully.

Reggie crossed his arms over his chest and stared in thought for a moment. “You know, I’ve always wanted to go to Pasadena.”

Alex and Reggie began to discuss the logistics of the types of castles we could go stay in Pasadena. I turned to Luke, noticing he was unusually quiet for a conversation he’d usually be the leader in. He made eye contact with me and I could tell we just had the same exact thought.

I nodded at him, grabbing his hand before disappearing from the studio together, and reappearing outside, directly in front of Julie as she was making her way up the steps to the main house.

I let go of Luke’s hand, putting my hands out in front of me to tell her stop. She obviously hadn’t seen us yet, because she nearly walked directly through us before she looked up and gasped, nearly falling down the stairs.

“Stop that!” Julie said, clutching her chest and forcing herself to breathe.

“Sorry…” Luke and I said, realising that the whole ‘ghost teleport thing’ must be kind of freaky.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you want?” She almost sounded exhausted, and I found myself wishing that I could hug her.

“Look… I know this all completely insane.” Luke started, doing that thing he always did when he was excited- stepping low while stepping forward in front of Julie. “But do you know cool this is?”

“People- actual people- can hear us play.” I backed Luke up.

Julie crossed her arms tighter. “Yea. I know. It’s just that- I’ve had a really, really, really bad day.” She went to walk around us.

Luke and I turned, stepping up to follow her. “Hey, we’re sorry you had a bad day. Really.” I said empathetically.

“But three guys and a girl just found out they had a bad 25 years. And then they found out that the one thing they lived for- the one thing that they lived for in the first place- they can still do.”

“You’re right.” Julie said, her tone nicer than our last two conversations. “It’s just…”

“Your bad day.” I finished softly, and Julie nodded. “We know what that feels like.”

We were silent for a moment, obviously giving Julie space to think.

“I’m sorry that we just fell into your life. But what I just felt in there- what we felt in there… that actually made us feel alive again. With the opportunity to play again… that’s a feeling no musician would ever turn away. I mean you gotta know that- clearly your Mum is into music!” Luke bounced excitedly.

“Was.” Julie corrected, and we both stopped. I felt my heart sink at her empty expression, trying not to let the emotion show. “She passed away.”

“I am…” I swallowed, not really knowing what to say. Does anyone ever, really? “I am so sorry.”

“We didn’t know.” I heard Alex say softly, and we looked to see him and Reggie leaning on the wall besides the stairs, looking up at Julie with kind eyes.

“It’s okay.” Julie said. We were silent again as we watched her stick her hands in her pockets nervously. “You guys haven’t… You haven’t seen her, anywhere have you?” She asked hopefully. God how I wish I could give her something.

“Um…” Alex said, searching for right words. Reggie came to his rescue.

“You’re…kind of the first person we’ve seen.” Reggie looked down at the ground sadly. All of the boys had such a strong urge to help people- and they became so lost when they couldn’t.

“We’re sorry for your loss.” Alex spoke up.

“I’m… sorry I got mad. You’re all kinda cool.” Julie said, making us all brighten up. She looked at me in particular for a second, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

“Do you play the piano too?” Reggie asked, probably curious after seeing the grand piano by the window. We had all wondered the same thing, really.

Julie shook her head quickly, dismissing the idea. “No. That’s just my mum’s stuff in there.”

Luke stepped up to her again. “You know there’s a song on the piano? If that’s hers… your Mum was really talented.”

Julie gave him a small smile and a nod. “Yea. She was.” Her voice was sad, and I almost thought she would start sniffling, but she turned and began walking up the rest of the steps again.

Luke let out a sad sigh and turned to us to see we all had the same lost expressions on our faces. It was clear we so desperately wanted to help, but none of us really had a clue about how exactly we could do that.

“I guess-” Julie’s voice made the four of us turn towards her, surprised she had come back. “If you need a place to stay… You could stay in the studio. There’s a bathroom in the back and a couch that turns into a bed… if you still use any of that stuff.”

“Dibs on the shower!” Reggie jumped up excitedly, making us jump a little bit. We looked at him, and he shrugged. “I just really like showers. And the occasional bath.”

“I don’t know why I’m saying this to you, but- don’t let them break anything.” Julie was looking at me. I was surprised she had addressed me directly. “You seem to be the most…careful out of you bunch. And if there’s one thing mum taught me before she passed, it’s that the lady rules the house.” She laughed a little, and so did I.

Not true in my case, but she didn’t need to know that. I gave her my best smile, also relishing in the fact that the boys obviously didn’t look impressed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep Country Boy, Drumstick, and Shorty here out of trouble as best I can.” I said, referring to Reggie, Alex, and Luke, respectively. They all shot me a glare, but I pretended not to notice, continuing to smile up at Julie.

I knew they’d be coming for me as soon as Julie left. First of all, Reggie hated being called ‘country boy’ despite his love of country. However, he never really minded when I called him my country boy. Second, I had jokingly called Alex ‘drumstick’ not only for his love of drumming, but because of that one time on my 17th birthday when we all had a couple of beers (shh) and I dared him to play his drums with an actual chicken drumstick. That was a really fun night, but I don’t think he’d appreciate hearing it again. And lastly, before Luke had a massive growth spurt, he was the shortest of all of us. No other reason. The truth was, really, I had a range of nicknames for the three of them, imprinted permanently in my brain ever since they all collectively started calling me Vegas.

“This…” Julie gestured vaguely at us. “Is just too weird.” She turned up the stairs, and finally walked away.

We waited another moment in silence just in case she came back again. When it had been a couple of seconds and it was clear Julie had actually left, I looked up at the boys, trying so hard to contain my smile as I made eye contact with each of them in turn. We were all thinking the same thing.

Pause.

“Nope.” I said quickly, moving and jumping straight off the steps.

Reggie, Alex, and Luke immediately jumped into motion, starting the chase after me. I heard Alex breathe out a laugh as I sprinted towards the studio- forgetting that I could run through walls and taking the time to go around the large studio door.

“Vegas I swear to god-” Luke started, annoyed when I was able to jump out of the way just in time as he made a grab for me.

“Yes, shorty?” I taunted. Seeing Luke playfully mad was definitely worth the fact that he, Alex, and Reggie were literally all about to tackle me to the floor.

Okay, this was a stupid idea now.

The three of them were on one side of the grand piano, while I was on the other. However, I stupidly chose the side closest to the wall. They had me cornered.

“We just wanna talk,” Alex was trying so hard not to smile. I spotted Reggie and Luke trying to creep around the opposite sides of the piano slowly, hoping I wouldn’t notice.

I made another run for it- jumping over the top of the piano in Alex’s direction, hoping I could just run past him. However, I made the mistake of underestimating Alex’s speed and strength as he wrapped both of his arms around me and I was unable to pull away.

“No!” I half yelled; half laughed. Reggie and Luke followed, but obviously forgot to slow down- crashing into me and Alex and sending all of us to the floor.

First, there were groans. Then, I burst into a fit of giggles as I started being tickled by three sets of hands.

“This is for ‘drumstick’.” Alex said, poking a very particular part of my rib cage that had my laugh echoing loudly throughout the room.

“Oh my gosh I’m-.” I started laughing again, curling in on myself to ease the pain in my stomach from laughing so hard. “I’m sorry! I surrender!”

When I received no response, I turned and grabbed Reggie’s hands, trying my best to ignore Alex and Luke.

“Reg- help me, or I’ll tell them about the birthday incident.”

Reggie stopped, turning red- giving me the exact response I needed.

“‘The birthday incident’?” Luke asked, stopping for a second. I gave Reggie a look, telling him to decide. The look he gave me in return told me I had won.

Reggie gripped my hands, pulling me up and into his arms. I chuckled slightly as the two other boys’ confusion, and Reggie shrugged. “Sorry, boys. Y/n wins today.”

Alex stood up, raising his eyebrow at the both of us. “What birthday thing?”

I looked at Reggie again, a sly mile on my face as I stepped forward and opened my mouth to say something. Reggie immediately pulled me back into him, putting his hand over my mouth. Cue the eyebrow raises from Luke and Alex again.

“Uh…nothing.” Reggie said, his ears still pink, and I couldn’t help but laugh into his hand.

When Alex specifically gave me a look, I sent him a wink that I was sure communicated that I’d tell him later.

…Maybe.

* * * * * * * * * * * 

“We were so close.” Luke said. I wasn’t paying much attention to him at the moment.

We were currently sitting on the top of the Orpheum sign displaying the bands playing tonight, while I had a death grip on Reggie and Alex’s hands.

I had to admit, it was a cool thing to be able to use our ghost abilities and just teleport places, but I wasn’t a fan of Luke’s decision to bring us here- especially with the height.

“Why did you bring us here, again? Just another painful reminder of what we never got to do. Thanks, man.” Alex’s sarcastic tone brought me out of trying not to look down so much and I decided to speak up for the first time since we got up here.

“Can we-.” I swallowed. “Can we get down?”

We all appeared down at the entrance, and I finally let go of Alex and Reggie’s hands. Together, the four of us began to walk down our favourite street of Hollywood, narrowly dodging people so no one had to walk through us.

Luke started talking about this being our second chance and what not, but again, I wasn’t listening. I walked slightly to the left of the footpath, brushing my shoulder against Alex’s causing him to look up at me.

“You doing okay?” I asked. I had been genuinely worried about him since we first arrived back in our studio earlier tonight. Wow, it definitely didn’t feel like only a few hours ago.

“Yea, just thinking about-.” Alex started, but suddenly stopped when someone pushed through the middle of us, bumping both of our shoulders.

“Hey!” I turned back to look at them- a tall guy in a top hat (a top hat). He gave a quick turn, walking backwards for a moment while he tipped his hat at Alex and I.

Then he was gone.

“What the…” I mumbled, looking at Alex to see he had the same look on his face. He opened his mouth to say something else, but we were again interrupted.

“Oi! Slowpokes! Hurry up, will you?” Reggie called from up ahead.

“Later.” I said to Alex before starting a jog to catch up with the other boys. “We’re coming, we’re coming. Hold your horses country boy.”

Tag List:  @bestdressedandstressed​, @emar185744 @sweetdayme4427 @hacker-ghost​ @allmybattleships​@blondie0458 @aberette13​ @oopsiedoopsie23​ @cocastyle​ @blairrrose​ @high-on-shai​ @thoughts-elsewhere​ @kiss-themoongoodbye​ @deni-gonzalez​ @khiaraaa-in-spacee @lovesanimals @epikskool @joshy-obx @deni-gonzalez @gingerxarmy @undecided-xs-world@amazing-socks @miraculousraventumbls @morgandamrose @hereforthejatp​ @emar185744​

(Some of my tags aren’t working and I’m really sorry).

[nightshade-minho]

-Nightmare- (4)

Warnings: Minho being a little bit of an asshole lol.

There she was, standing right in front of you. You gulped, trying not to look intimidated...but it was hard, considering the way she was looking you up and down.

Rina’s gaze travelled to your hand in Minho’s. She cocked her head to the side, pursing her lips.

“So...you’re dating your best friend.”

Minho nodded, and you looked up at him. He looked pretty confident and at ease, considering how nervous he’d been when the two of you left the apartment this morning.

“How did this happen, exactly?”

“It just...did.”

She skeptically raised an eyebrow. “So, you just woke up one morning and she was your girlfriend?”

Minho chuckled. “I don’t see why you want the details so bad. We’re together now, that’s what matters.”

Rina tapped her finger with her chin before shrugging, hoisting her purse over her shoulder as she smiled before walking away.

You felt Minho’s tight grip on your hand relax as she left. He looked at you, grinning. “That went pretty smoothly, didn’t it?”

“Uh huh. So does that mean we can stop this now?”

Minho shook his head incredulously. “Fuck no? If we break up right after, she’ll obviously understand it was a farce. No, we have to keep this going for a while...at least until the party.”

“Honestly...am I the only one who felt like she wasn’t completely convinced?”

“Yeah...I noticed that too. We have to step up our game.”

•••

The evening air was quite breezy, and you felt very calm as you sat on the balcony, your guitar on your lap as you strummed mindlessly, staring at the moon.

Your fingers automatically played a song you’d written a while ago, when you’d first realized you were in love with your best friend. It was a soft song, a sweet melody with melancholic undertones. You knew how hopeless this was.

Minho nudged the balcony door sideways as he stepped out, settling on the chair next to you with a cup of coffee in his hands.

You stopped playing, tucking your hair behind your ear. Minho frowned as he turned to look at you.

“Why’d you stop? That sounds beautiful.”

You smiled bashfully, looking away to hide your blush. “Eh, it’s just something I came up with one day.”

Minho scoffed. “Are you kidding? Y/n...you’re so talented. I really admire you. I wish I could be the same.”

It was your turn to scoff in disbelief as you turned your chair slightly so that you were facing him. “Have you seen yourself dance? You pour your emotion into every step. That’s admirable.”

Minho smiled softly as he gazed at you. He drummed his fingers on the side of the chair. “If you like my dancing, how come you never come to the studio to watch?”

You rolled your eyes. “Sorry Minho, but I’m not into the idea of someone mistaking me to be one of your gawking fangirls.”

His smile dropped. “What’s wrong with that?”

You shook your head, leaning back as you looked at the sky.

He paused for a moment, before nudging you slowly. You looked at him, breath hitching as your eyes met his beautiful, galaxy-filled ones.

“Play something for me.”

“Any particular song you’d like?”

“Nah. Just something you wrote. The first thing that comes to your mind.”

So you played the song you’d been playing when he interrupted you. Minho closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in your music.

“Is this a dream or a nightmare? Can’t bring myself to care.”

You sang softly under your breath, gaze flitting to the boy in front of you from time to time.

You ended the song with slight tears in your eyes.

“Cause I love you...it hurts, but I do.”

You quickly wiped your tears away as Minho’s eyes opened. He looked at you, mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of something to say. His heart was pounding, and he didn’t know why.

All he knew was that you looked ethereal with the moonlight washing over you, eyes shining as your fingers rested over the strings.

Minho felt suffocated. He was outraged at himself, his breath catching as he got up so suddenly that the chair fell over. He didn’t bother to say anything, walking back into the living room and going straight to his bed, locking it as he put his head in his hands.

What was that funny feeling residing in his chest and his stomach? Honestly...it always happened when you sang or played your guitar, but never in this intensity. He didn’t like it. He needed it to stop.

There was heavy knocking on the door. Minho collected himself, peering through his keyhole. You stood there with your hands on your hips, anger evident in your face.

“What the fuck? You’ve been doing this a lot lately. Tell me, what’s wrong?”

Minho breathed in. He told himself it was normal. Everything was normal...nothing had changed. He squashed the feelings deep down in his chest. He reminded himself of his top priority, telling himself that these were all merely side effects caused by the little project you both had going on.

He ignored you, plopping himself down on the bed and trying to block everything out.

•••

The next morning, Minho apologized to you as you served him breakfast, which happened to be pancakes.

“I was just thinking of how I’m still very nervous about the whole Rina situation. I’m terrified. Sorry I took it out on you. We need her to really be convinced...so how about we go on a date tomorrow?”

You were still a little miffed, but you brushed it aside. You were too tired to hold a grudge at this point. “A...date?”

“Yeah. Let’s go to the coffee shop that she’s always visiting. Mera told me that she’s always hanging out with her friends at The Little Leaf after classes. ”

You’d forgotten that Mera and Rina were best friends. You scrunched your face up, nodding. “Alright.”

“We’ll walk there together in the afternoon, and make sure there’s no doubts left in her brain.”

•••

You walked beside Minho. He seemed to be in more of a cheerful mood, swinging your intertwined hands as he hummed.

He looked really good in his camel-brown jacket and white shirt. He’d insisted that the two of you wear matching colours so that you could really drive the point home- which is why you were wearing a cream sweater and a tan pleated skirt, one which was way too short and had to be constantly pulled down.

“You look cute.” He said as the Little Leaf came into view.

You tried not to blush. “You look nice too.”

“Just nice?” He raised an eyebrow and you giggled.

“I mean, hot. Super hot. Rugged and handsome.” You said half-jokingly, watching as he wiggled his eyebrows and laughed.

Through the window, you could see Mera, and two other girls you didn’t know the names of. The fourth girl sitting in the corner was clearly recognizable by her fiery red hair.

Minho breathed in deeply. “You ready?”

“Uh huh.”

“Here we go.”

The door swung open, the little bells on top tinkling. Minho led you to the counter.

“I’ll have an americano, please. The lady will have a strawberry milkshake.” He looked to you with a crooked smile. “Isn’t that right?”

You nodded, smiling. “Oh, a blueberry cheesecake too, please.”

Both of you made your way to an empty table that happened to be right in front of the girls.

Mera was the first to notice, her eyes wide as she saw the two of you sitting down. She nudged Rina, pointing.

You saw this out of the corner of your eye, and you were satisfied. “They’re noticing,” you whispered. “Good.” Minho said.

“So. About yesterday. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have stormed out on you like that.”

“It’s okay. I just...did I do something wrong?”

Minho shook his head. “No. Not at all. I was just really on edge.”

You nodded.

A waiter came, setting down your drinks and the cheesecake. You noticed that he was someone you’d worked with on a project once.

“Wait...Juyeon?”

Minho looked up, frowning.

Juyeon smiled. “Y/n! It’s nice seeing you here.” He gave Minho a cursory glance, before focusing his attention back on you.

“Likewise! I didn’t know you worked here! I’ll come by more often, then.”

“Do that. I’d even give you free cupcakes.” Juyeon winked at you, before turning to leave. Minho watched him go with an angry expression, before turning back to you.

“Uh, what the fuck?”

You took a sip of your milkshake before cocking your head to the side. “Huh?”

“You were flirting with that guy.”

“I wasn’t!” You said, glaring. “I was being nice. And need I remind you that you have no right to be jealous? We’re not actually dating.”

Minho scoffed. “Jealous? Don’t fucking flatter yourself. I am fully aware that this is all fake, trust me. However, you flirting with the waiter might give people the wrong impression, especially because the whole reason we came here is to convince Rina that we’re dating.” He snorted. “Jealous. That’s rich.”

You pursed your lips, saying nothing. Taking a fork, you took a piece of the cheesecake and shoved it in your mouth.

Minho sighed. “I’m sorry.”

You swallowed. “Minho...sorry doesn’t cut it anymore.” You said sadly.

He stared at you, before shaking his head sadly. Nodding, he took his drink and lifted it to his lips. “This is the most awkward date ever. Rina’s never gonna believe this. Our body language gives it all away.”

You shrugged. “Well, what do you propose?”

Minho paused, before laughing loudly, turning his head slightly to see if the girls noticed. You rolled your eyes.

“What a dork.” You said fondly. He put his hand on top of yours. Rina and Mera were watching, and he needed to give them a show. He took a fork of his own and dug it into the cake, lifting it to your mouth.

“Say aaah, baby.”

You giggled before opening your mouth, letting him feed you. Minho’s smile was intoxicating. You felt the butterflies in your stomach run amok as you stared into his eyes.

Minho felt it too. As he spooned the cake into your mouth, he felt his heart flutter. Babying you was actually quite enjoyable. ‘I should do it more often,’ he thought.

He watched as you munched, your cheeks so full that you looked like a hamster. It was an endearing habit, one that made him want to kiss your face all over.

Wait, what?

Minho slammed the spoon down on the table all of a sudden. You looked up at him, confused. “I need to go.” He stammered, standing up and walking to the door as fast as he could.

You sat in your chair, eyes wide, before looking down. Why was he doing this? You were doing nothing but help him...yet he kept storming out randomly with no explanation, whatsoever.

It took a while for you to realize that someone was standing in front of you. When they cleared their throat, you looked up.

Rina smiled sympathetically.

“He’s a pain, isn’t he? From what I’ve seen, he doesn’t treat you very well.”

The girls standing next to her nodded. Rina stared at her nails. “Don’t you feel tired of being his girlfriend, especially when you know what he’s like?”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You know. He’s just a fuckboy without any substance. Come on...I know you’d like some revenge too. Help us give him what he deserves.”

You chuckle humorlessly. “That’s real funny. Fuck off.”

You got up, brushing your skirt. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find my boyfriend.”

You pushed past them, running out of the shop and down the street. It took you a while to finally find him. He walked languidly, hands in his pockets.

You ran until you’re standing right in front of him. He stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow. “What the fuck do you want?”

You sighed, reaching for his hand. “Minho, you have to tell me why you’re acting like this. Besides...something happened back there that I think you should know-“

Minho shook your hand off roughly. “Y/n. I’ll say this once. Fuck off. Go home.”

You push him angrily. “You dickhead, we live in the same place. And I did nothing to deserve this.” You said, reaching for his hand again.

“Touch me again, and I swear to God...look, I’m not coming home. I might be there by evening. Just give me space.”

You tried not to look hurt. Suddenly, out of the corner of your eye you saw Rina and her friends standing near her car. They’d clearly already seen half of what was going on. Fuck, you had to salvage the situation.

You grabbed Minho’s cheeks and pressed your lips to his hurriedly, electricity jolting through you as you realized what you’d just done.

Minho made a shocked sound. He felt his heart run berserk, unaware that you were feeling the very same thing. You wanted to cry. This was not how you’d imagined your first kiss with Minho would go. It was a rough, insincere kiss, one with no feelings behind it whatsoever...or so you thought.

You opened your eyes slightly and saw that the girls had already left. You let Minho push you away.

He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, looking at you in disgust.

“Why the fuck did you do that? No kisses was a part of the agreement, and there’s no one around.”

You wiped your wet eyes, tears threatening to spill. “Rina was standing there the whole time. She saw our fight. Back in the cafe, she also told me to join forces with her. Just thought you should know that she’s still looking for revenge.”

You turned around, half-running as you got away from him, the tears flowing freely. He watched you leave, his face blank, as he processed the information you’d spewed at him.

You felt your heart harden. You’d been thinking about it for a while...but you were sure of it now. Minho didn’t deserve your love.

[novantinuum]

Tides of Renewal (SU one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (Mild TW for vague allusions to past suicidal thoughts.)

Words: 2500~

Summary: Now twenty years old and living on the other side of the country, Steven spends his morning relaxing on the beach, musing about his past, and having a chat with his dad.

Hi folks! This is actually my two-months-late “Happy Birthday, Steven” fic, ahah- amusingly, posted two months late to the day. I’m quite happy with how this short turned out.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. AO3 link will be provided in the reblogs. Thank you! <3

____

Tides of Renewal

Steven rises alongside the sun, but not by choice.

As he abruptly stirs, jerking onto his side under his tangled blanket, he soon realizes that he has little lingering memory of the nightmare that shook him from his slumber. Nevertheless, his heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s hanging in his throat. There’s feelings, faint impressions— someone’s blood (his, or hers?), Connie’s screams, a bubble of terror boiling from within— but that’s all he’s left with. The young man clutches at his sheets, struggling to catch his breath as is the norm most mornings. Dim light sneaks in between the edges of the curtains, offering a rough estimate of the time.

Once it’s clear his chances of sleeping in have become null and void, he entices himself out of bed with the promise of buying himself a muffin at the local coffee shop later today, a birthday treat. His routine is sluggish, but precise. He uses the bathroom, throws on his swim trunks and a thin cotton shirt, downs the pills he forgot to take last night with a quick swig of water, carefully runs his fingers through his long curls to work out the tangles, and slips his feet into the flip flops he always leaves lying right at the foot of his bed.

The young adult only takes his guitar, phone, and keys with him as he walks the mile distance from his humble studio apartment to the public beach. Around him, the world is at peace. The only sound intermingling with the gentle ebb and flow of the Pacific at this hour of the morning is the chattering of puffins that nest on the large rock outcroppings in the tide pools nearby. The edge of his lip quirks up when he finally crosses that sacred boundary— the sidewalk meeting the shore— and removes his sandals, reveling in the satisfying, grainy texture of sand squishing between his toes. Hah... the beach. Funny, that. All his traveling these past years, from mountains, to prairies, to sprawling suburbs to wooded forest towns, and it only succeeded in deepening his childhood love for the familiarity of saltwater air and tourist-filled boardwalks. Still, the secluded, rustic charm of Haystack Cove is a far cry from the Beach City he grew up in. Different people, different sights, different types of seafood sold at the markets. This place feels like a home all his own, appropriately distant from the Gem influenced settlement he’d left behind.

He crosses the fine grained sands towards his favorite sitting spot, a hefty stone jutting out from the ground, its surface buffed to a glossy finish over the years by the high tides. The water’s still distant this early in the morning, glimmers of sunlight sparkling off of the foam and spray. Yawning, he plops himself down on the stone and lifts his guitar into his lap. He strums a few random chords as a warm-up before settling into an experimental melodic sequence.

As he plays, the early morning breeze teases at the ends of his shoulder-length hair, untied and let free in all its curly splendor. It’s still quite chilly, but with the sun peaking over the horizon behind him and not a cloud in sight, the air’s bound to heat up in no time. Steven inhales deeply, soaking in the salt and light and pushing away the shadows lurking at the periphery of his mind, that twitching, exhausting anxiety that never quite seems to leave him alone these days. Unfortunately, functional does not mean carefree. While far fewer in number then when he was a teen, he still runs into plenty of moments where he’s struck blind by particularly painful reminders of his past, his gem snapping into overdrive in an instant. He’s a bit better at coping in these moments now, and walking himself down from panic attacks, but deep-rooted traumas don’t simply melt away. With that in mind, at this point he suspects he’ll likely have to deal with a mixture of therapy and meds for the rest of his life. That’s fine, though. If that’s what it takes to be at peace. He’s thankfully reached a point in his recovery where he’s more than willing to work for it.

Startling him out of his roaming thoughts, his phone chimes to life, touting the same cheery ring tone he had as a kid. He gently sets his guitar down in the sand and fishes his cell phone out of his pocket, a silent bet as to who’s calling rising within his mind. Sure enough, his dad’s contact photo proudly greets him. Hah— he called it. Steven stifles a giggle as he hits accept and lifts the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Dad!”

“Hey, Schtu-ball!” his father chimes from the other side of the country, three hours ahead. He hears a faint shuffle over the line, and then the beginnings of guitar accompaniment as the man begins to sing:

“Happy birthday to you~!”

Dad ends the line with a resounding vibrato, and a few extra jazzy chords for good measure.

“Heh heh, thanks,” he says, bashfully blushing at the attention, and gazing across the loose sands as if ensuring the secret of his birth hasn’t swelled into a nauseatingly public affair like half of his birthdays had since the start of Era 3. “Gotta say, the impromptu guitar solo pushed that to a whole new level. You just get up?”

“Yep! Bright and early. Garnet said you’d probably be awake by now, so I figured I’d call and give ya’ a good greeting to start the day. Lemme guess, you’re down there at the beach already? I think I heard waves.”

Steven’s glance lifts to admire the slowly rising tides, and the promise of each tomorrow that lies beyond. “Hah, you know me,” he says softly, taking a deep lungful of that precious salt-touched air he’s always adored. “I live for the water. Might force myself to go for a swim later before all of you come. Not sure yet,” he says, shrugging as he turns and squints in the wake of the steadily rising sun. “But my therapist said I should probably keep as active as po—“

“It’s your birthday. You do whatever makes you happy, bud,” his dad promptly reminds him, slight concern sticking to his voice. And yes, it’s practically a father’s job to worry, but his chest tightens with lingering guilt for pressing that upon him anyways. Ugh, this is because he said ‘force myself,’ isn’t it?

“Doing my best to,” he lamely offers, hoping it’ll at least end that segment of conversation. He twirls a stray strand of hair around his finger as he scours his memory for something new to offer. Thankfully, his mind quickly lands on the exciting email he received last night. He grins, knowing for sure his dad’ll love this. “Oh, uh- topic change, but I got that last job I applied for, by the way.”

“Oh? The taffy shop one?”

“Yeah! I start on Tuesday.”

“Wow, that’s- that’s awesome! They responded fast, then.”

“Yup,” Steven nods, popping the ‘p.’ “Honestly, it’s nothing much, just stocking and working the register, but it’ll give me some cash to work with.”

Some cash to finally pay for his own food instead of continuously bumming money off his dad. There’s no way he can handle full month’s rent on his own with this minimum wage job, (who on Earth could in this economy), but it might be enough to cover the smaller things. Groceries, electricity, internet. That sorta stuff. Fidgeting on the edge of the stone outcropping, his bare toes dig narrow lines in the sand. He hasn’t really had this discussion with Dad yet, but the mere concept of being wholly reliant on other people steers his mind uncomfortably close to the I’m a Burden Zone. He’d far prefer to feel like he has a stake in the game.

“I know you said you don’t mind supporting me,” he continues in a hesitant tone, twirling his finger through one of his curls, “but I still feel kinda bad—“

“Don’t. I’d rather you not have to stress yourself to the bone about money like I did when I was your age.”

The line shakes for a second. He’s pretty sure he hears the faint clink of a bowl meeting the counter from his dad’s side.

“Dad...?”

“Sorry, bud. Just putting ya’ on speaker. Figured I’d make myself some instant oatmeal,” he says, his voice sounding a bit further away from the microphone. “Goodness, though. Twenty years. That still boggles the mind.”

He gives a soft laugh. “You’re telling me. Could’ve sworn I was twelve just yesterday. And to be honest, it’s... it’s kinda weird sometimes, you know?”

“What is?”

“Being another year older. ‘Cause... well, uh...”

Steven grits his teeth, searching for the most delicate manner in which he can discuss these emotions. The feelings of his past are a really hard topic to dwell on sometimes, even in therapy, and even though he and his dad have long since had scattered discussions about what a poor mental state he was in then, he doesn’t wanna upset him too much.

“There were definitely days I assumed I wouldn’t have a future, or didn’t want one to begin with,” he continues, throat thick. “Back during all the conflict, before Homeworld reformed. And even after that, when I was... you know. And things are better, now, they’re definitely a lot better. But the idea of a ‘future’... even if I’ve got a job, a home, a girlfriend... it’s still weird to think about, I guess.“

There’s a brief silence on the line as this vulnerable admission sinks in.

“Yeah,” Dad replies eventually, clear sorrow in his voice despite how careful he thought he was in phrasing these matters. “I hear ya’.”

With a quick nervous laugh, he scratches at the nape of his neck, fingertips brushing against the thin, wispy strands of hair growing back there. “Geeze, sorry for bringing the mood down so quick. Didn’t even know I had all that on my mind until it spilled right out.”

“No, no! No need for apologies, I’m always here to listen. And in any case, I’m glad you’re in a better place now.”

Steven nods his head to himself in full agreement (momentarily forgetting that his dad isn’t actually here in the flesh to see this response). Sixteen and seventeen really, really weren’t good years for him. And even though he’s put lot of work into himself since then, he can’t help but constantly fear the possibility of relapse. His therapist told him a few sessions ago when he expressed this worry that... relapses into old thinking patterns can be common for people living with C-PSTD, and that it’s important for him to be cognizant of any unusual changes in his patterns and routines so he can quickly intervene with his box of healthy coping tactics, but... geeze. The dark, traumatic destinations his wandering thoughts end up stagnating in when the concept of relapse brushes his mind aren’t fun to acknowledge. It makes him yearn with deafening hunger for a simple switch he could flip, some magic cure-all for his brain that would stop him from having to deal with any of this awful shit in the first place— but of course, cruel universe this can be at times, those don’t exist.

“Speaking of that,” Dad speaks up again after clearing his throat, “how are those new meds treating you? You said last call your doctor was gonna change them, yes?”

“Nah, not change. There’s no need to change types,” he shrugs. “It’s just a dosage shift. And it’s fine, I think. I’ve been on ‘em for a few days, and there’s no problems so far. Brain's been treating me a little better.”

Nightmares aren’t quite as bad.

His energy isn’t totally zapped by noon.

The whirling, panicked trajectory of his thought patterns is a little easier to wrest control of.

All in all, nothing’s perfect, but he certainly feels a good deal more stable than before. Now, if only he can remember to consistently take his meds before he goes to bed like he’s supposed to instead of totally forgetting like he did last night and having to scarf it down when he sees that forsaken capsule in his pill box the next morning. Tsk, tsk.

“That’s real good to hear,” his dad responds to his news.

He flexes his knuckles against his lap, gaze reflexively drifting back towards the welcomed distraction of the tides. “Yeah.”

“Anyways, I, uh...”

“So, party logistics,” he cuts in with an overly cheery tone, changing the topic from his boring mental health crap entirely. “We should probably hash this out now. I know Connie’s planning on dropping around about noon. What’s your guys’ plan? She can probably send Lion to you after she gets here, if you want.”

“Yeah, that’d be best. Pearl said there weren’t any convenient warps nearby. Well, there’s one- but apparently it empties out into an active lava tube. And that’s not exactly Dad-friendly.”

“Aww, you mean you’re not filled with the intense desire to dip your hand into molten lava and shlorp it up like it’s soup?” Steven retorts, only barely holding back his laughter as he thinks of this absurd text thread he had going with Connie a few weeks back, wherein she sent him a video of some volcanic flows and told him, verbatim, that 'despite all logic and reason sometimes I can’t help but look at super viscous lava and think... forbidden s o u p, mmmm.’

“Not particularly, no,” his dad says, sounding thoroughly confused. “I’m- why are you laughing? Is this some sort of weird internet thing I’m not familiar with again?”

He wipes tears from his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. “You, ah- you kinda had to be there, sorry. Anyways, yeah. I’ll have Connie send Lion. I’ll text you right before, how’s that?”

“Sounds great! Can’t wait to see ya’, bud. I’m gonna let you go, now, okay? I can talk your ears off later. Go enjoy your morning. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad,” he says, grinning. “Bye.”

“Buh-bye.”

Once his dad hangs up he sets his phone beside him on the rock and takes a deep, steady breath, trying to capture the full nuance of each diverse scent in the air. He may just be imagining it, but he swears he’s able to pick out the faint scent of taffy intermingling with the ocean saltiness and the hint of cedar from the nearby state forest. In the end though, whether it’s real or not it’s a welcomed reminder of all the possibility the future holds for him.

He’s twenty now. It’s a brand new decade of life. He’s got a new job lined up, a stable and loving relationship, a supportive family, and plenty of courage in facing the shadows of his past. Sure, so maybe he’ll never know with certainty what will happen— maybe he’ll relapse a little, maybe he’ll still have some bad days sprinkled amongst the good ones— but as he watches the tides flow in to greet him, he smiles... and resolves to just take this year as a renewal of his vow to care for himself as best he can.

[pffbts]

hi! can I request a jimin fluff where y/n and him lie on the floor listening to the radio together? thank you 💗

―GENRE: fluff; comfort

―CHARACTERS: park jimin x neutral gender!reader | no supporting character

―W.C: 1.2K

―AUTHOR`S NOTE: this reminded me of the requested fic where jimin was a radio jockey :) if you`ve not read it yet, you can read it here! thank you for requesting this even though it`s been quite a while, i hope you like it, bub :) love u <3

[11:12 PM] [the silence only existed for the outside world]

―even though the other side of the world is waking up and the other is filled with silence, your living room was lit up with the crackling sound of firewood & the slow strumming of the guitar from the radio.

with that came the sudden tug from jimin onto your loose fitted t-shirt. “can you sleep?” he asked, his voice soft and bird-like. you shook your head, your eyes still closed while your eyes focused onto to the sound that comes from the radio.

jimin hummed back in agreement.

“what`s this song called?” you asked.

“i don`t know but it sounds cool, right?”

“right, i wish i could loop it.”

“same. but it`s radio so obviously, that`s not in our hand.”

you giggled at his remark. “that`s ironically funny.”

jimin, who lay right next to you beside the fireplace came a little closer to you. he turned around on his left and put his right arm idly on top of your tummy. you who was lying on your back, opened your eyes slowly at the sudden movement. the warm orange light coming from the fireplace which partly illuminated the living room, the back of jimin`s body wasn`t illuminating much on you because apparently, you were completely covered by jimin.

when you turned your head to your right, you met with jimin`s gaze on you.

“oh.” you mouth released a small sound in sudden shock, not at all expecting jimin`s eyes on you at this close proximity. “i thought you were dozing off.”

“hmm no, i`m not in a mood to sleep.”

“then, what do you want to do?”

“watch you, maybe?”

you scoffed at him, your mouth twisting one side to give a subtle smile. “and maybe listen to the radio?” he added.

“i`m sure we`ve no idea what this song is too, right?”

“correct answer!” jimin fisted the hand on top of your tummy and put it up a bit in exclamation.

you laughed this time, a little more enthusiastically. in-between the laughter, jimin put his left arm under your neck for you to have a makeshift pillow and shifted himself more towards you, at such an extent that now half of his face lay against your neck.

“it is cold?” you asked, seeing how jimin was closing off the distance in-between your bodies.

“no, i`m trying to slowly turn you into my side pillow.” he stated, almost mumbling into you ear. you squinted you face, giggling a bit as his breath left a shivering sensation over the right side of your throat & neck. “now! that tickles!” you exclaimed.

“hmm should i shift down?”

“shift down? where?”

“so i can lay my head on your chest & just, i don`t know, doze off to whatever the radio is playing tonight.”

“whatever you wish, just don`t make a tickle. you know i don`t like it.” you said back.

jimin, upon hearing it, he shifted down a bit and now completely wrapped his right arm around your waist while he lay his head upon your chest. “that`s comfortable.”

but you couldn`t hear what he said because you could finally make out what the song the radio was playing this time. “wait, that’s save tonight! by eagle-eyed cherry!”

“eagle what?” jimin asked, lifting his head up from where he was on your chest.

“the song that`s playing now.” you said, “it`s called save tonight, i absolutely love the guitar in this song. it`s lively plus the lyrics, it sounds like us right now.”

“really? i don`t really understand fully but yeah the instrumental sounds cool.” jimin goes back to placing his cheek against your chest while saying that.

“you seem to have made yourself quite comfortable, why don`t you take a nap?” you suggested to him, running your fingers over his faded purple hair. “oh your hair? are you going to dye it black?

jimin didn`t answer this time but instead pulled your left hand which was resting on your left side against his face. you can say, he was face-hugging your palm.

“what`re you doing?”

“connecting to you.”

“huh?”

“your hand is warm & soft.”

“okay….”

“and i feel sleepy. i think your heartbeat is making me sleepy.”

“is it that satisfying?”

“hmmm.”

“then sleep. you can sleep however you want.”

“can i?”

“hmm of course.”

at this point, both of you were simply mumbling and whispering into the air. no one knew if anyone could hear each other. jimin felt like he could keep on doing this all night, this was a really good decision to sleep on top of your chest. the heartbeat sounds so stable & so calm, he thought he never heard an heartbeat like this before. not that he has ever laid his head over anyone`s chest. but still, something told him, this was unlikely.

with you, he has always felt comfortable but nights like this are the best. both of your mutual love just randomly playing radio and just laying on the floor by your fireplace, just whispering sweet nothings. because both of you`re most of the times busy with school and works, nights like this has become quite rare but both of you try your best to utilize even the least of the time to fulfillment.

“min, i hope you`ve set the alarm for tomorrow…” you whisper asked jimin, who you`ve no idea if already asleep or not.

he didn`t answer immediately but took a few seconds to reply with, “tomorrow is sunday, we can stay like this till the morning.”

happiness spread through your body and you smiled gleefully. you pulled the cushion which was lying nearby by your head and put it under your neck. throughout this action, you made sure you made very subtle movement so that jimin doesn`t wake up as he already looked like he was dozing off from the way his breathing has stabilized over your left palm.

you watched the fireplace on your right, which was now completely illuminating your face up. you looked away after watching it a few seconds, put your right hand on top of jimin`s head, patting very nice & slow and closed your eyes, looking away from the fireplace.

the night looked like it was closing in. midnight was in the air. the radio was now playing some slow tracks while the air from the window smelled like it was going to rain anytime. you dozed off while jimin listened to your heartbeats even in his dreamland.

fin. 

[edensbuttercups]

Nulla Verbum Sine Sensum

Pairing: Jaskier x reader Request: “Hii! I have a little fic idea if you want to write it: Jaskier gets cursed by a witch he slept with and ends up losing his voice and ends up searching for a cure with Geratl when they meet the reader and maybe she's a mage or a healer or something and she ends up breaking the curse” Word count: 3.4k  A/N: Thank you anon for your request! I know it took so so long, and I apologize! I’ve got to admit, I’m not too happy with how this came out. I had an idea for the beginning and for the end, but the middle part just wouldn’t come to me. I decided to go for a less traditional “she breaks the curse” and I don’t know if it did work out, so feedback (as always) is appreciated!  Again, I’m not fully satisfied with how this came out, and I might edit it later on, but writing it was a lot of fun and the prompt was really cool! So thank you again anon, hope you like it 💕

Geralt had retreated to his room hours ago, but he had decided to stick around, eyeing a certain mysterious woman that quietly sat at the bar. She had long flowing hair with blue ribbons plaited in it forming a crown around her head and a white gown that elegantly fell all the way to the floor. She had been the only one not to clap at the end of his performance, hell, she hadn’t even looked at him once! So, he did the only thing he could think of and trotted over to her, singing his praises until they both were in bed, a breathless mess next to each other.

When she woke up the next morning, she was alone. She didn’t mind, she hadn’t expected a love story, just some meaningless sex, yet she didn’t expect to descend the stairs finding him flirting once more, this time with the barmaid. She nodded and smiled, ready to teach him a lesson, prancing towards him and placing her hands on his shoulders, spinning him around and dragging him away from the bar. “What-… Oh. Hello.” He smiled, glancing apologetically towards the barmaid. “You know, darling” he raised his eyebrows at the nickname, surprised by her almost metallic tone “Your voice will quickly rot unless you share all you’ve got, expecting nothing in return, your most prized possession you might earn.” “Ooh, rhymes, how fancy! I didn’t know you were a poet like me” he answered cheerfully, repeating the curse under his breath, trying to memorize it for possible future songs. “Good luck bard. You’ll need it.” She winked at him as she turned and walked out, her long white dress blowing behind her as he looked at her for a moment before turning towards the bar yet again, eager to get back to charming the barmaid, hoping that Geralt would enjoy his sleep for only a bit longer. “So… where were we?” he said, his voice suddenly hoarse. He laughed and cleared his throat, throwing an apologetic glance at the barmaid. “Pardon my voice. I must’ve caught a cold.” He laughed once more, bowing his head and trying once more, failing again. He apologized again, paying for his breakfast and taking a seat at the closest table, waiting for his travel companion to arrive. He started thinking about the words from the woman he had spent the night with, piecing two and two together and gasping in disbelief, shaking his head and hoping with all his heart that he hadn’t truly been cursed. It wasn’t long until the Witcher descended the stairs, nodding to the bard and making way towards the door, walking out and leading the way towards the stables. “Geralt!” the bard cried out, his voice low and warped, unrecognizable and weak. The Witcher didn’t hear him and carried on walking, smiling as Roach came into view. The bard looked up at the sky, annoyed at his condition, cursing as he walked closer to the Witcher, grabbing his attention by tapping on his arm. “Hmm?” The Witcher turned, raising an eyebrow at the bard. “My voice.” He coughed out, trying to be as loud as he could. “You’ve probably got a cold. I’ll get you some ginger sweets, those should help.” “No. Curse.” His voice was a mere whisper now, weaker and weaker as time went on. “Curse? Jaskier I left you last night and you were fine, you probably didn’t sleep well and now your voice is weird, don’t get all-“ “Curse.” He insisted, looking for a stick to write with in the dirt, explaining his point. He walked towards the nearest tree and jumped up towards the lowest branch, jumping up and breaking it off the tree. He marched back and started writing. “I slept with a woman… Oh that’s a surprise!” Geralt laughed, carrying on reading. “This morning she told me something weird, I think it was a curse. What do I do? Jaskier, is that drawing supposed to be you crying? You really have to work on your anatomy” the Witcher laughed as the bard threw the stick at him, frustrated by his lack of words. “Let’s get moving. Allowing a Witcher in this town for a night was already a lot for them, if we stay any longer, we might end up with rocks thrown at us.” The Witcher looked at the bard, waiting for an answer. Jaskier looked up and nodded, following behind in silence.

 You’d expect Geralt to enjoy the silence that accompanied him on the ride, but he could feel the sadness that surrounded Jaskier and couldn’t help but feel uneasy. He glanced behind often, finally offering a place behind him on Roach that the bard accepted offering a small smile, weakly climbing on and resting his head on Geralt’s back, tired from the thoughts that swirled around his head. What if I never get my voice back? What am I supposed to do? What if no one knows how to break this curse?

 They reached Zavada on a cold morning, the bard swallowing back thoughts about his voiceless future and the Witcher determined to help his friend with whatever means necessary.

 You had always enjoyed sitting near the door, often with a book in hand, waiting for customers to walk into your shop for either a chat or a fresh loaf of bread. This morning was no different; you sat with your head resting against the column, a hot cup of tea in your hands as you watched the people pass, their breaths drawing clouds in the air as they spoke. Two figures came into view, one tall and strong, his white hair framing his stern look while the other stood next to him, his arms tucked in front of his chest making him look small while a gloomy look haunted his face. You kept your eyes on them, entertained by the lost look on their faces, debating on whether you were willing to help them or not. You took a last sip, standing up and choosing the biggest loaf of bread you could find before walking out the door, closing it behind you. You felt their gaze on you as you moved through the crowd making your way towards them, your dress dragging on the ground behind you. “Hello! You look lost, can I help you in any way?” You offered them the bread, breaking it in half and offering one half each. The white-haired man looked at you for a moment before nodding. “We need a healer or a mage. Someone that knows how to break a curse” he explained, lightly moving his head towards the other man, his mouth shut tight in a small smile, his eyes bouncing from you to your surroundings. “Forgive him, he’s a bit grumpy. He’s a bard, yet he was cursed and lost his voice.” The man explained once more, smiling when the bard lightly punched his shoulder. You walked closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and smiling. “We’ll get your voice back, I promise.” You turned towards the streets, pointing east. “That way. I know a mage that might be able to help, I’ll come along with you.”

You knocked on the door, exchanging some words with the mage and introducing her to Geralt and Jaskier, moving aside when Geralt started explaining the situation, the mage listened closely. “And what was the curse?” She asked, grabbing some paper and a quill from the shelf. Jaskier started writing, his face serious as Geralt read aloud, used to his new position as voice double for the bard. “The morning after I met her she came towards me and smiled, saying that my voice would rot unless I gave all I had. I had to expect nothing in return to gain my most prized possession back. Something along those lines.” She scoffed, turning to the Witcher with a raised eyebrow. “Standard curse. You’d expect more originality, you know?” She turned to the bard and sat next to him. “You’ll have to do something out of the pureness of your heart. You have to do something just because it’s the right thing to do.” He stared at her, his eyes darting up to the Witcher’s and then up to yours. You could read a hint of confusion in them. You stepped forward. “What does that mean exactly?” she looked up at you, an amused smile painted on her face for a mere second. “Let’s say… he’s a bard. He writes songs. By writing a song, especially when a bard does so, you expect someone to listen to it, to like it, to praise it. But if he wrote a song without even an ounce of his heart craving that validation…” “The curse would be broken?” you guessed. “Maybe.” “Maybe?” “It all depends on who cursed him. Since it was a woman, we can assume she means something more… deep. He probably has to find a selfless act towards somebody, putting their needs before his own, no matter if that hurts him in any way.” She finished explaining and sat up, leaning over to pat his shoulder in a comforting way. She grabbed Geralt’s attention as she slipped away in a nearby room. “Go and wait outside. I’ll be out soon.” he said, following the mage into the back room.  You waited outside together, the warm sun slowly heating up your surroundings after the cold night. You listened happily as the bard gently strummed one of the songs you had heard many times at the local tavern. He looked sad as he quietly moved his lips, forming words that both of you knew by heart but only one could sing.  “I’ll sing for you.” His eyes darted up to meet yours “if you’ll allow me” you added as a smile graced his face. He started strumming louder, trying to decipher from your face if you knew the words. You nodded and started singing, softly at first, afraid of being heard by anyone but him, but slowly you let go of your fears, fluttering to your feet and dragging him up with you, gently swaying to the sound of the song, moving around each other as his smile grew, mesmerised by your voice. You forgot about everything while you danced and sang, his smile growing with each passing minute. The truth was that he liked having you around, even if the two of you had only just met, you seemed to care for him more than he thought possible. You smiled often, a smile that made his heart warm, and had he had his voice he would’ve showered you with praise and love. He promised the sky, the sun, the moon and everything holy that he would as soon as his voice returned.

You spent the rest of the day together, walking around and jokingly trying to make Jaskier do something out of the kindness of his own heart, but nothing worked. You asked him to play his lute, pick you flowers, dance for you, and Geralt kindly played along by asking him to be quiet. You both laughed at the stern expression on Jaskier’s face, but once he heard you laugh he smiled, not looking so offended anymore.  “This is my shop.” you said, once you reached your entrance “I have a small room upstairs, so whenever you need me just knock. Do you have a place for the night?”  “Some rooms are available just down the road” Geralt explained, pointing to the nearby inn. “We’ll come say goodbye tomorrow.” Both you and Jaskier widened your eyes, looking at the Witcher with a confused look. “Goodbye? You’re leaving?” Jaskier raised a hand, suggesting that he was wondering the same thing.  “There’s no point in staying, is there? The mage can’t cure him, and he’ll have to solve this problem on his own. The nearby town is looking for someone to slay a beast, the earlier we leave the earlier we’ll have coins.”  “Oh.” you muttered, trying to smile “sure. Well, I’ll be waiting for you. If you stop by in the morning I’ll be sure to prepare a delicious breakfast!” you tried to sound cheery, but you felt sadness at the thought of having to say goodbye so early. You wish you could’ve talked to Jaskier - truly talked to him - but you knew there wasn’t much you could do. So you offered a small hug to both the Witcher and the bard, hugging both of them tight, lingering just a few moments longer as you took the chance to rest your head on Jaskier’s shoulder. You barely knew them, but you were going to miss them. You were going to miss him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” You said, offering a smile to the bard, trying to cheer him up while the Witcher nodded and turned. You and Jaskier shared a last look, him not daring to move and you to talk, before he smiled back, bowing as mischief tinted his eyes. 

You spent the evening baking bread for your shop, adding a few extra pastries to the baked goods for your two new friends. You looked at the final result: a blackberry pie for Geralt and a lemon one for Jaskier, along with some other berries that you had grown and a jug of freshly squeezed juice. You left the kitchen, reaching the bedroom and slipping in a long blue gown that you had managed to buy with few hard earned coins. You smiled, slipping into bed and thinking of the bard, falling into a deep sleep while wishing that a simple kiss on the lips could solve it all. 

A faint sound coming from downstairs woke you up, making you sit upright in the dark room. You glanced around, grabbing the plant pot that rested on your bedside table as a possible weapon as the moon lit the room enough for you not to trip on the clothes you slipped out of the night before. It wasn’t the first time that someone broke in, and even if the first time you almost had a heart attack, following that night you had always felt ready to tackle even the toughest of enemies, which you did. You held the plant tightly, walking down the narrow steps as your nightgown dragged behind you. You saw a shadow in front of you and swung down the pot, a soft gasp leaving your lips as you held the plant high above your head once more. The figure fell back, looking up to you with a confused expression, and you met the two eyes you had quickly grown to love. “I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” you helped him stand up, feeling relieved as he nodded, a hand held on his head where you hit him. “You could’ve knocked! What are you doing here?” he looked around, sighing as he realised that he had forgot to bring something to write on. He walked closer to you, gently pulling your hand up with his, moving his finger slowly, writing a letter at a time. “You wanted to see me? Why?” you asked, your heart beating faster as you stood close, closer than you had been before. “You missed me.” you smiled “I missed you too. I’m sorry that you’re leaving.” he nodded, looking away for a moment, his eyes falling to the food you had prepared. He moved his fingers once more, forming another phrase against your palm. “It’s for tomorrow morning! Don’t be greedy, Jaskier.” you said as he dragged you to the table, sitting in front of you. You both sat in silence for a moment, before he tentatively grabbed a small pastry, taking a bite and smiling in delight. You spent the night talking, he spent the night writing, and you both laughed and ate, falling into a comfortable company. He slipped away just before the sun rose, making his way back to Geralt and falling into a short sleep, his thoughts swirling in a sea of fears, hopes, dreams and you. 

“Thank you for your help, y/n” Geralt said, after a short breakfast and an even shorter chat. “Thank you for your company. It was fun while it lasted. Have a safe trip Geralt.” you smiled, reaching from your bag and pulling out the finest bread you managed to bake, wrapped in a soft material. “For your journey.” you explained, earning a nod and a smile, before the Witcher moved away, towards the road. You looked at Jaskier, taking the chance to place a soft kiss on his cheek before taking a step back. He stood between the two of you, his eyes darting between you, the woman he felt so drawn to and him, the friend he promised to accompany on his adventures, changing his reputation with his words. And he didn’t know who to choose, because as much as writing songs was what he wanted - it was his job after all - he needed you. If just for now, he needed you. You made him smile, you understood him, no words needed. But what would he do here? Few people lived in this town, and the tavern wasn’t lively enough to grant him an earning. He’d be nothing but a nuisance after all.  “Goodbye Jaskier.” you said softly, looking at him and waving at Geralt.  Jaskier looked up to you and smiled, reaching for your hand and tracing once more.  “Thank you for everything. I’ll come back one day.” you read as he wrote. You nodded, smiling. “I’ll be waiting.” you answered.  And so you watched them walk away, the bard rushing behind Geralt, trying to catch up, and the Witcher riding tall, his white hair blowing in the wind. You turned and sat on a rock, placing a hand on your chest as you tried to swallow down the sadness you felt. 

The bard walked with his head held down low, his hands in his pockets and his eyebrows furrowed. “How are you, Jaskier? I know how you feel about her.” Geralt spoke, breaking the silence. “I feel like I’ve made a mistake leaving her.” the bard started as the Witcher came to a halt, sliding off Roach. “I really liked her. Like, really liked her. But it wouldn’t be fair. A mute bard? It makes no sense! How would I even help her? I couldn’t earn any coins here.” “Jaskier.” “I know, I know, you think I fall in love too easily, but she was just so…” “Jaskier!” the Witcher barked, shutting the bard up. He turned around and searched for you, finding your figure sitting on a rock not too far away. He called for you, smiling when he saw you standing up, waving at him. “Let’s go back, Jaskier.” “What? Why?” he asked, still oblivious. The Witcher closed his eyes and smiled, dragging Roach along with him as he walked towards you. “What happened?” you asked, straightening the creases from your dress. “It worked.” Geralt muttered, looking at the bard with the hint of a smile. “What worked?” you asked, taking a step forward. “I made Jaskier choose between two things that would hurt him. I wasn’t sure if it was going to work, but…” he trailed off, gesturing to the bard triumphantly. “Wait, I can talk?” the bard said, looking blankly ahead. “I can talk!” he said once more, jumping up and enveloping you in a hug, swaying you from side to side as laughter rose from his chest.  “Geralt!” he turned, ready to hug the Witcher, who instead simply moved to the side, making the bard hug the air for a moment before falling to the ground.  “So he had to choose between…?” you started. “Staying with you and being a weight or leaving you, granting you freedom and financial sufficiency.”  “Oh! You wouldn’t have been a weight, Jaskier! But either way, I’m happy it all worked out.” you looked at Jaskier, who was still sitting on the ground, and offered him a hand, pulling him up into a hug.  “So, what’s the plan now? Are you still leaving? Or are you going to stay for a bit?”  “We can spare a couple of days, right Geralt?”  “I guess we can.” 

You all walked back to your shop, you and Jaskier singing like fools and Geralt rolling his eyes every few steps. And as you slipped your hand in the bard’s, pulling him close into a quick kiss, you wondered if giving up your shop for some time in exchange for adventure was a smart decision. “Ah, life is short.” you muttered, knowing in your heart that you’d spend more than two days in their company. “What, love?” “Nothing.” you said smiling, pulling him into yet another kiss, the third of many more to come.

[quickspinner]

Until It Doesn’t Hurt

My post Puppeteer 2 therapy fluff fic. It has a sequel, A Time to Every Purpose

It was a long day, after the wax museum. Marinette did everything she could think of to make it as painless as possible, which mostly meant trying to cover up her shattered heart. She’d allowed Alya to give her the third degree over the phone to avoid any confrontations on school property, and she’d spent extra time on her makeup that morning to keep the worst of her distress from showing. She applied allergy eyedrops liberally both to keep the red from being too obvious, and to give her a plausible explanation for whatever was left. She kept her head down and tried to act as she would if she were tired from a late night creative burst. 

And when she needed to cry, she went to the bathroom in the back stall and did it as silently as possible.

Marinette left the classroom and was congratulating herself half-heartedly at her success when she ran into Luka on the steps in front of the school. Literally. He caught her shoulders and steadied her, and said, “Hi Marinette,” with a smile, as if she hadn’t just plowed into him and nearly sent them both careening down the stairs. 

“Luka! Hi,” she tried to smile back. “Sorry about that.”

“No harm done,” Luka replied, dropping his hands. He was looking at her intently with those sleepy eyes that only ever seemed to come really awake when he was performing. But as always, he proved that he saw more under his hooded lids than most people did with their eyes wide open. “Why are you so sad?” he asked, and she appreciated his quiet tone, carefully modulated to avoid drawing attention to them.

Marinette sighed, not bothering to deny it but not wanting to cry in front of him, not over this. “I’d rather not talk about it, Luka.”

She might as well have told him, because his simple “Okay,” brought tears to her eyes and she swallowed hard, looking at the ground. Luka moved, and she realized he was now blocking her from view of the students still flowing out of the building. “I’m sorry,” he said, distress audible in his voice.

She shook her head, covering her face with her hands. “It’s not you, it’s been happening all day. I just need to...not think about it.” She sighed shakily. “I wish I could just stop thinking about it.”

Luka touched her arm lightly. “Can I play for you? We could go over to the park.”

Marinette took her face out of her hands and looked up at him. “Really?”

“Of course,” he said gently. “Absolutely, if it will help. Come on.” He put his hand on her back but didn’t apply any pressure, just waited for her to move. Luka’s hands were long and thin, his touch light and patient and lingering. 

Adrien’s hands were broad and strong, always pressing, squeezes and half-hugs, making as much contact as possible for the few moments he was allowed to touch someone. Tears were clustering thickly on her lashes now and she swiped quickly at them as she started down the steps.

“Didn’t you need to do something?” she asked weakly. He’d been coming up the stairs as she was going down, he must have had a reason.

“I was going to talk to Ivan, but it can wait. It wasn’t important and he wasn’t expecting me. It was just a whim, really, but now I’m really glad I came.” His hand slipped across her back to curl around her shoulder, guiding her around an obstacle she only half saw through her tears. “I don’t mean to pry, you don’t have to tell me anything, but is your family okay?”

“They’re fine,” she said quickly, “it’s nothing like that. Just stupid teenage drama.” Her breath hitched as she said it, and he squeezed her shoulder. 

“It’s not stupid if it hurts you.” It sounded like a well-practiced phrase, and she wondered how many times he’d said it to Juleka.

“It is stupid. I’m being ridiculous, it shouldn’t be that big a deal. Nobody expects to be with their first crush forever anyway.” She shut her mouth quickly. She hadn’t meant to say that last bit.

Luka’s stride faltered for just an instant, and it took a moment for him to answer. “Love doesn’t have to be eternal, or requited, to be real and precious and painful to lose. And life is full of surprises.” He sounded like Tikki, but Marinette was too close to losing it again to laugh. Laughing might be a nice change from crying, but she had a feeling it would be the high pitched, hysterical kind that made people back away. 

Luka guided her into the park, and found them a quiet bench. She’d forgotten how many memories of Adrien she had from this park. Marinette reached into her purse and Tikki pressed a fresh tissue into her hand, patting Marinette's fingers before they withdrew. She pressed the tissue to her eyes and choked back her sobs.

Luka’s long fingers caught her shoulders. “Marinette,” he said, with such compassion that she obeyed his gently tugging hands and let him pull her close and guide her head down to his shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, and she felt his chest rise with his sigh. “It sounds like this is one of those things that just has to hurt until it doesn’t anymore.” 

She let herself bury her face in his shirt for just a minute. “I’m sorry,” she croaked. “This is so unfair to you.”

“Don’t think about that right now. You need someone, I’m here. I’m happy to do whatever I can.” He held her until she got herself back under some kind of control, and turned back to his guitar case when she pulled away. 

Curiosity made the tears recede a little as she watched Luka get out his guitar and a small tangle of wires and..stuff. He sorted it all out easily and plugged a small rectangular something into the guitar, then plugged a cable into that and placed a pair of big headphones like Nino’s over his head. “Just give me a minute to tune up.”

She watched his fingers as he plucked and adjusted and plucked again, and when he was satisfied she let him lean forward and put the headphones over her ears and show her how to adjust the volume. 

Marinette looked up at him. “Don’t you need to hear it?”

Luka smiled, not lifting his eyes from the guitar as he strummed lightly. “I always hear it.”

Her pulse quickened and she felt a slight rustle in her bag against her leg, and she could imagine Tikki’s sigh. Marinette suspected the little kwami of having a crush on Luka herself. But then there was no mystery why a goddess of creation and creativity would be drawn to Luka. 

“Anything special you want to hear?” he asked, glancing up. “Or should I just…”

“Just play,” Marinette breathed, leaning back on the bench. “Anything.”

So Luka played, and Marinette listened. She wasn’t quite leaning against him, but she was close enough to feel his sleeve brush her arm as his hands moved. The sun was warm on her and she slid down on the bench a little so she could lay her head back and closed her eyes.

He played a surprisingly wide range of music, not just the rock tunes she was used to hearing from him. One song just melting into another as he played whatever came to mind. It felt so good to just let her mind be quiet. Once or twice she opened her eyes just enough to see him through her lashes. He swayed and bobbed slightly with the music as he played, eyes half-lidded or sometimes nearly closed. He was playing for her, but at the same time he was in his own little world, letting her have the space to feel what she needed to feel. 

There was one melody he kept returning to, quiet and comforting, and finally curiosity got the better of her. 

“I don’t know that song,” she said, and she felt him jump slightly when she spoke. “Sorry,” she smiled, opening her eyes fully.

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d fallen asleep,” he said. 

“These benches aren’t nearly that comfy.” She sat up and rubbed at her back. “What’s that song?”

Luka cleared his throat and glanced around. He slid over, closing the small gap between their bodies, and started playing the song again. Then with a quick glance at her that looked almost shy, and a slight lean towards her like he was telling a secret, he sang softly, Baby, where’s that place where time stands still...and she wondered why he was so hesitant about something so lovely, even as her cheeks heated at the intimacy of the little world he’d created between them. It's no place you can get to by yourself. You've got to love someone and they love you. Time will stop for nothing else. 

Despite the peaceful melody it was kind of a sad song, about a love that was over, about two people who maybe hadn’t loved each other quite enough to keep time stopped in that peaceful moment, but it spoke to her. It felt like...missed opportunities. Words that should have been said, but never were. It's everything I understand, and all the things I never will.

“That was nice,” she whispered when he finished. “Thank you.”

He gave a one-shouldered shrug as he straightened and put a little space back between them. “It just...felt right, I don’t know. It kinda feels like that here, just playing and sitting. Enjoying the moment. I mean, I know it’s not the greatest moment for you to be stuck in, but—“

“No, it was exactly what I needed. It was nice to just sit and be.” Marinette nudged his shoulder with hers. “Thanks for stopping time for me, Luka.” He looked away to hide a smile that she understood better than he realized. She put her hand over her purse to muffle Tikki’s giggling.

It took a moment before he could look her in the face again. “You’re feeling a little better,” he said. “More like this.” He played a song that was still sad, but a bit less slow, and a bit hopeful as well.

“How do you do that?” she asked him, and he smiled, huffing a small laugh through his nose.

“It’s easy, with you,” he said. “Not everybody is so sincere. Some people are murkier, you know?” 

Marinette pouted. “You never give me a straight answer to that question.”

Luka grinned. “Marinette, I do it the same way you do,” he replied easily. “We both look at people and then take the things we see and give them back in our own language. We’re the same, Marinette. It’s just my language is music, and yours is style.”

“It sounds so profound when you say it that way.”

“I think it is something profound, and precious. We give people another way to connect to the world. We let them know that they’re seen and understood. They hear my music and they think yes, someone understands these twisted up emotions in my heart. They wear your clothes and they say look at me, this is who I am, please look at me and understand. I think creative people like us are very lucky to have something like that to share with the world.” He raised his eyes from his guitar and smiled softly at her. Marinette felt a smile spread over her own face, and she could swear she heard a tiny squeal from her purse.

“Thank you, Luka,” she whispered. 

He lifted his hand from the fretboard and touched her cheek, wiping away a tear she hadn’t realized had fallen. “My pleasure, Marinette.” He hesitated, and then said softly, “I see you, you know. You’re brave, compassionate, creative, sincere, funny, insightful, sweet, and human...fallible, yes, but I’ve never known anyone who tries as hard as you do. I don’t know what’s going on, and you don’t have to tell me, but I know whatever it is, you’ll find a solution. You’ll find a way to be happy again.”

Marinette bit her lip to stop it from trembling. “You’re a big fat liar, Luka Couffaine.” He reared back, surprised, but she continued. “If you ever say you are bad with words again, I’ll smack that lying mouth right off your face.” 

Lula blinked, and then laughed his quiet laugh. “Well, it’s easy with you.” His cheeks turned pink and he shut his mouth quickly, and Marinette couldn't help but wonder how it could be that out of all the things he had just said, that was the one that embarrassed him. His fingers found the fretboard again and his pick slipped slowly and deliberately across the strings. 

“I’m glad I could make you happier,” he said. “Even if it’s just for a little while.”

“You always do,” Marinette said, and it was as much an epiphany as a statement. She looked at him and found him looking back at her. “I’m always happier when I’m with you.” 

She could see him swallow, and quickly looked back at her hands, face suddenly flaming, but she couldn’t take it back because it was true. In his cabin when they met, on the deck of the ship, at the ice rink, when they were waiting to hear about the video contest—he’s never seen her feeling down and not tried to make it better. She’s never left time with him without feeling better than she did before.

“I’m glad,” was all he said, but his voice was thick and he had to clear his throat. 

Marinette reached up and took the headphones off. “Um, are you hungry?” She offered him the headphones and his fingers brushed hers as she took them.

“I could eat. Did you have something in mind?”

Marinette waved a hand at the bakery across the street. “Your language is music, mine is fashion. My parents’ language is food. I bet they’ll have something perfect.”

Luka chuckled as he began unplugging and putting away his things. “That sounds great.” He stood up and shouldered his guitar, and there was something uncharacteristically shy about the way he offered her his hand. Marinette wondered what he was sensing from her now. She wasn’t sure herself exactly what was in her heart at that moment. She took his hand and let him help her up, and then...she didn’t let go. Instead, her hand turned in his palm as she stepped up beside him and his rough fingers slowly curled around hers as his eyes watched hers. 

Marinette smiled and tugged lightly to get him moving. Her heart still hurt, she reflected as they walked, but she was starting to have hope that it wouldn’t hurt forever.

[juminly]

Hide and Seek (Mitsuhide x Reader) Part 2

This is Part 2 of “Hide and Seek” which you can read here: Part 1.  I hope you enjoy it and feel free to leave your comments ^_^ Tagging: @yunohawkeye @kylor​ Warning: NSFW.  ------ “Your welcome was more than stimulating, my little mouse. It appears that our little game has been fruitful. I believe it’s time I reap what I’ve sown.” You stared at his back and at his now disheveled hair, completely dumbstruck. How could he say all that… how could he leave himself so undefended when he knew exactly the state you were in? You were too proud to admit that he was right. He knew better than yourself. Your body responded even more when you were denied and forced to fight for what you want. Biting your lower lip, you straightened your back and sighed heavily, your breath rushing passed your gnawed pink flesh. “You could’ve tried to appear surprised. That’s the least you could do, Mitsuhide. You could give me the satisfaction of catching you”, you whined childishly. “You’ve been away for too long… I missed you, Mitsuhide.” You were at the end of your wits and decided to finally put an end to the charade that you helped orchestrate. “Well... I lied, (Y/N).”His voice had dropped an octave, the smooth huskiness making your chest tighten and your heart skipped a few beats, propelled into an allegro that he conducted with such ease. Every inch of your being was an instrument to be toyed with, loved and revered by him. Mitsuhide finally turned around, shifting himself onto all fours and sinuously crawling towards you. Wrapping his cool fingers around your ankles, he pulled you swiftly under his body, parting your legs with his knee and settling his hands on either side of your delicate figure. Leaning down, Mitsuhide brought his lips to your ear, running the tip of his tongue along the seams, your entire body shuddering in response before he slowly breathed out. “The kitsune is a sly creature that is extremely hard to find. Even so, being alone for long isn’t much fun, wouldn’t you agree?” A warm chuckle reverberated from him, a decadent sound that was reserved only for you. His soft lips began to travel down the length of your jaw and your neck then back up again towards your cheek, his breath leaving a trail of chilling warmth in his wake.

With a sharp inhale, you frowned and a muffled whimper caught in your throat. “What are you doing, Mitsuhide? Can’t you see that I’m...” With a long finger pressed against your lips, he silenced you. “Isn’t my mouse such a beautiful honest little thing, hm?” he murmured lovingly, while you frowned further at his choice of words. He knew that you openly disliked the endearments he used to call you, yet, it aroused something deep within you. “Does my sweet little mouse really think that I lost, when I have her exactly where I need her to be?” With a quick peck on your forehead, Mitsuhide removed his finger and smiled down at you. Why.. was he looking at you that way? Mitsuhide was being so heart- wrenchingly sweet, you almost felt the need to look away but ultimately, couldn’t. “I am the Devil King’s left hand man, (Y/N). I have done vile and atrocious things and don’t plan on stopping. I’ll do everything I have to to reach my goals. I am… the devil himself. Yet, you...” He cradled your rose-tinted cheeks with achingly gentle hands, their coolness, a contrast to the warmth of your skin, sending a blissful rush through your form. Thin lips hovered over your own, the heat of his breath mingling with your own as his words strum the sensitive chords of your heartstrings. You had to tell him. You couldn’t hide it any longer. As your lips parted to release the song that you trapped in the depths of your being, your thoughts were relinquished and replaced by your kitsune’s searing kiss. A mystical communion between the pure and the malicious. A destiny damned and spurned by the Heavens. That’s what he saw. That’s what he thought. But, it wasn’t the truth. “Actions speak louder than words, (Y/N). Allow me to reveal my secrets and I shall uncover yours whileI do”, he purred zealously against your lips. Heaving sighs and swallowed whines marked the beginning of your symphony. Fierce, passionate and feverish were his lips against your own while his tongue stole away the last bit of your sanity. You trembled softly in his arms, hands clenching his arms before wrapping around his neck, whimpering wantonly when he broke the kiss, only wanting to taste more of him. His tongue teased the seams of your plump lips once again, leaving you reeling with your mouth open, waiting for him to claim you in an inexorable dance which left you breathless and writhing. “Mitsu…!”, you mewled in frustration and frowned. “Patience, angel. Good things come to those who wait.” He hummed with a suggestive smirk. You could see it in his eyes. He was at his limit. Your silver-haired kitsune was now the epitome of unbridled lust and… love. Brimming foxfire threatened to set you both ablaze, a fleeting thought crossed your mind. You would die happy in his love, drowning in his affection and his infinite yearning that clawed for your heart. It was the truth that you hid and that he finally unveiled. It was already his, yet this was a preamble to Mitsuhide's vow to claim your body. “Mitsuhide… what are you doing?” you barely managed to croak under the weight of your deepened desires. Just like water on firestone, his tongue languidly careened over your silky flesh, drinking in all the love you had to give, coaxing a rising storm of pleasure within you. Mitsuhide’s long fingers traveled from your shoulders, sliding the sleeves of your kimono down your arms, unwrapping you with such refined dexterity. “I have just begun yet your body is quivering for my attention, (Y/N). What do you think I must do when my angel desires me so blatantly?” he began to suck loudly on your collarbone, slowly dipping down to your breast. “Hm… I shall stop and wait for your instructions since you do not seem pleased.” While he remained positioned above your chest, his smile stretched from ear to ear as he tugged on the edge of your sleeves, allowing you to pull your arms out of them and exposing your perked up breasts to him. “Do you always have to tease me like this?” a long exhale pushed through your lips, sounding exceptionally dreamy and satisfied rather than the exasperated tone you intended. “I was not aware that this was a trial regarding my innocent and pure intentions towards you, love.” His rich baritone resounded with a deep laugh while his hands cupped both your breasts, caressing your flesh ever so lightly. “Do you expect me not to treasure these dusky jewels that you offer me so willingly?” His thumbs grazed over your nipples with cruel softness, eliciting a loud hiss from you. “It’s… I don’t mind… I want you to.” “What is it that you wish for, love?” “You can do what you want, Mitsuhide… I won’t stop you.” “Oh… Well, I would like to inquire on what it is that you wish me to do. Aligning on expectations is a crucial part of what I do, (Y/N). You are more than aware of that.” “I’m aware that your cock is rock hard and pressing against my thigh, Mitsuhide. I know that you’re barely able to control yourself and God knows that I want a taste of you. Just… You can… fuck me.” Your hands slowly slid to his neck, brushing softly over the column of his throat and caressing the tender skin behind his ear before reaching inside his kimono to touch his chest. "God, Mitsuhide… I want more.... Give me more." He was a masterpiece of masculinity that you wanted to consume every inch of. But the silver kitsune clearly had other plans. A dichotomic smile hooked the corner of his lips, sensual yet devastatingly serene. “I could never say no to you, my angel. However, I’m afraid I can accommodate such requests only to a certain degree and as I deem fit.” Mitsuhide meticulously hunkered, catching one of your beaded nipples while his fingers played at your obi, ridding you of the weight constricting your breathing, of any barrier between your body and his. His tongue slithered around the sensitive bud before sucking on it gently, sliding every bit of fabric from under you, leaving you completely bare to his salacious gluttony. The dim light of the candles cast undulating shadows on your writhing body, contorting under Mitsuhide’s. Your burned for him and every breath he stole from you, every electrifying touch of your skin, every breath of his lips brought you closer to a release that would shatter her world. Leaving a trail of blemishes over your skin, your body unravelling beneath him, a canvas purposely marked, staking his claim to all the places he had been, a sacred oath to the plains and meadows yet to be explored and ravaged by the kitsune’s fervent touch. The languorous and sultry sweeps of his tongue on your chest and abdomen impeding the steady ebb and flow of sensations washing over you into a tumultuous abyss of ravaging pure bliss. “I was thinking of making love to you, from now on.” His words were pregnant with meaning and his voice was oozing with blissful implications. Was that a confession? Your heartbeat quickened as the blood began to rush through your veins, the quivering of your legs more visible and the rocking of your hips grew more urgent as you grind your center on his knee. You were so close and he was adamant on bringing you over the edge. Or, that’s what you believed. “(Y/N), your pleasure is mine and you shall only taste it until I tell you so.“ Slender fingers twisted in his silver tresses, pulling on them when the words falling from his lips overcame you like a jolt to your body. He clicked his tongue derisively as you tightened your hold on him. The questioning look he cast your way was enough to have you untangle your grip from his silver tresses, allowing him to rouse from his crouched position and separate you from the only source of friction you could use. “I fear that I cannot allow you to do as you please, (Y/N). Leave it all to me.” He drawled while he gathered your obi in one hand, lifting one of your arms above your head and then the other, joining your wrists together. “No! Stop it! I want to be able to touch you! You can’t do this!” you contested roughly, wriggling and thrashing under his domineering hold. “Be still, (Y/N).”His husky tone turned severe, cutting through your useless protest. “You will do as I say or I will leave you hanging.” He began tying your fragile wrists with your obi, securing your hands above you and out of his reach. You knew Mitsuhide well and his intentions. He only acted out of your own interest and sought only your pleasure, not control over you. He always did everything… just for you. "Mitsuhide… Just give me… give me what we both want! "you panted, voice barely recognizable, deeper than it usually was, dripping with untamed lust. The underlying threat and possibility of him denying you your promised release drove you mad. “I despise you.” “Such hateful words for a woman in such a compromising position, love.” He slowly began undressing, loosening the fabric that covered the ropes of tight sinew that blessed his body and unceremoniously tossing the nuisance away. His chiseled chest that you had bruised with your kisses so many times before, the body that you ached to worship.   ----- Final Part will be posted tomorrow! <3 Hope you enjoyed it so far! Edit: Here’s the Final Part ^~^  If you enjoy my work,  Please feel free to like/reblog and leave comments/feedback!  💜  Masterlist