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junghelioseok · 3 years

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clandestine. | 05

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 7.6k [5/6]

notes: second to last installment of a fic that didn’t need to be as long as it is!!! really this entire thing can be summed up with last chapter’s warning, which was “reader is dumb and jungkook is slutty.” i stand by it, okay!!! 🤷🏻‍♀️

warnings: dumb banter, a couple brief smutty bits, oral (f receiving), listen to slow dancing in the dark by joji during the soft smut scene in the middle if u want

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

“No. No. God, no. Has your music taste always been this bad, or is this a recent development?”

“You will excuse yourself,” you retort sharply, wagging a finger at your brother. “Mr. Brightside is a classic and I will not hear this slander. Please feel free to permanently vacate the premises if you disagree.”

Jimin rolls his eyes from where he’s slouched on the couch beside you, one hand submerged in a bag of chips and his bare feet kicked up on the coffee table. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m dramatic? Really? You wanna go there, Chim?” You raise your hand and begin ticking off on your fingers. “I’m not the one who threw a fit over a piece of cilantro in my taco. I’m not the one who refused to bathe when Mom couldn’t find the right bubble bath.”

“Oh my god, I was eight,” Jimin snorts. “Both times. And cilantro tastes like soap.”

You raise a third finger. “What about the time you hid all the Monopoly money because you kept losing? Or when yo—”

A knock on the door cuts you off mid-sentence, and you nudge Jimin’s shin with your big toe. “Go get the door,” you order, and you aren’t sure if he’s just tired of hearing your voice, but he stands up without complaint and wanders into the entryway to receive your unexpected guest.

“Hey,” you hear him say. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” a very familiar voice replies. “I need some help.”

It’s Jungkook. Of course it’s Jungkook. You haven’t seen him since he dropped you off and kissed you senseless in your driveway, but you’d have to be delusional to think that you could avoid him for the next week and a half before you leave to return to Seoul. And yet, you allowed yourself to indulge in your delusions for two full days, before he tears them apart with ten simple, innocent words.

“So, I think I might have done the laundry wrong.”

Jimin laughs out loud, covering his mouth with his hand. “That’s all you, Noona,” he says, glancing over his shoulder at you, and you don’t even have wherewithal to lecture him about the sexism of his remark because Jungkook is smirking like he’s just won the lottery and you’re his grand prize.

“Noona?” he begins, his voice syrupy sweet and thick with intent. “Can you come help me?”

You glance down at your pajamas—gray sweatpants and a pink Pusheen t-shirt that’s a couple sizes too big. It’s beyond obvious that you have no plans for the day, and therefore no excuse not to help. Heaving a resigned sigh, you clamber to your feet and roll your eyes when Jimin immediately flops down across the newly abandoned couch and lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Have fun,” he calls lazily as you walk out, and you do your best to ignore the wicked grin that flashes across Jungkook’s face.

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it fun,” he says as he lets you pass by him to exit the house. “See you later, Jimin.”

As soon as the front door slams shut, you round on him with a glare. “Are you serious, Jungkook?” you hiss. “He’s totally going to catch on to… to whatever it is we’re doing.”

“You’re being paranoid,” Jungkook chides, clicking his tongue. He hops over the low bushes that divide your property, and waits patiently as you skirt around them. You follow him into his house—down the hallway and into a little side room that houses the washing machine and dryer—and as soon as the door swings shut, he’s grabbing you by the hips and pulling you close.

“This—this isn’t how you do laundry,” you stammer weakly, winded by his sudden proximity and the dark promise in his eyes. “What the hell are you doing?”

Jungkook chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. “I may have lied a little bit. Would you have come if I hadn’t?”

You don’t answer, because you know he’s right. If you had your way, you would have avoided him until it was time for you to leave again. But Jungkook just doesn’t seem to be willing to let that happen, as he tightens his grip on your hips and tugs until you’re flush against him.

“See, the truth of the matter is, I’m actually good at laundry.” He smirks and tilts his head, dark bangs flopping across his forehead. “I’m good at other things, too. Why don’t you let me show you?”

Attraction blooms in your belly, hot as molten lava, and it takes the last ounce of your wavering restraint to say what you say next. “We can’t take too long,” you whisper, letting him hoist you up onto the dryer and jab the start button. The machine rumbles to life beneath you, and you nearly lose your train of thought when the vibrations go straight to your clit. “Jimin!” you gasp. “Jimin—he’ll kill you if he finds out. He’ll fillet your dick with a dull knife and serve it over rice.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Why are you talking about your brother? Is this your idea of dirty talk, princess? Because I gotta tell you—it’s not doing it for me.”

“Jungkook!” you chide, and he grins and moves to tug off your shirt.

“That’s much better.”

///

In the days that follow your laundry room tryst with Jungkook, sneaking around becomes routine. Both of your parents work—as do his—so avoiding them is easy. Jimin, however, is a different story. The dance classes he teaches are irregular, and the schedule shifts often enough that you’ve come dangerously close to getting caught on more than one occasion.

And it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook has taken to texting you at all hours of the day, even when you’re eating a sandwich on the couch with Jimin half-sprawled across your lap in his effort to invade your personal space as much as possible.

[12:35pm] Jungkook: hey i just thought of something

[12:35pm] Jungkook: you know how i call you princess?

You nearly throw your phone across the room. Cautiously, you glance at your brother, who is glued to the television and doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss.

[12:36pm] You: yeah…

His response is instantaneous.

[12:36pm] Jungkook: well i’ve got a throne for you to sit on

You almost sigh out loud. Please don’t, you write back, and you practically hear Jungkook’s cackle in your head as the ellipses that indicate he’s typing pop up at the bottom of your screen.

[12:37pm] Jungkook: it’s my dick ;)

[12:37pm] Jungkook: get it?

I fucking hate you, you tell him, thumbs flying across the keyboard.

[12:38pm] Jungkook: and i love fucking you

[12:38pm] Jungkook: princess ;)

///

After nearly a week cooped up at your parents’ house, you’re getting restless. Without a car, you’re confined to the suburban neighborhood you grew up in, and the revelation that you’re bored somehow spills out to Jungkook during one of the many heated makeout sessions you’ve started having in the backseat of his sedan.

“Do you want to go somewhere?” he’d asked, tilting his head curiously, mussed hair falling across his eyes. “I can drive you, if you want.”

And that’s how you find yourself wandering around downtown Busan on a beautiful Tuesday afternoon. Jungkook drops you off at the curb after cumming down your throat, and now that he’s dashed off to work the lunch shift at the restaurant, you’re free to explore all of your old haunts. The shopping center that you and your friends used to frequent is right around the corner, so that’s where you decide to start. After all, you’re still in need of some professional attire, and as much as you love your mom, you’d rather avoid the unflattering dresses and itchy pantyhose she would be sure to seek out.

As soon as you step through the glass revolving doors, you find yourself in a familiar air-conditioned paradise of shops and restaurants. Stopping at your favorite coffee spot, you treat yourself to an iced mocha before heading to the first store.

Two hours and three full bags later, you decide to head to the food court for a quick snack. You’d promised Jungkook that you’d meet him at the restaurant once you were finished, but a glance at your phone tells you that you have more than enough time to stop by Kim’s Kitchen. Mrs. Kim makes the best cookies in the entire city, as far as you’re concerned, and you decide to order a dozen to take home and share with your family.

You’re lowering yourself into a seat at one of the many tables scattered around the tree-lined atrium when you spot a familiar head of strawberry blonde hair. The owner spots you a split second later, and you return her smile as she immediately swerves and heads your way. “{Name}, hey!”

“Hey, Chaeyoung,” you greet, gesturing for her to take the chair on the other side of the table. “What are you doing here?”

“Same thing as you, from the looks of it.” She grins and hefts her shopping bag. “I swear I’ve been to every shoe store and still haven’t found what I’m looking for, but somehow I’ve bought this much crap anyway. What about you? What are you on the hunt for?”

“Professional attire,” you say with a grimace. “Why are pants so hard to find? I swear, they’re all either too long or too short, and never fit properly in the waist and thighs.”

Chaeyoung pulls a face. “Ew, I know. Pantsuits are a nightmare unless you have a tailor. And who has money for that?”

You laugh, nodding in agreement. “So what are you up to now? Mrs. Kim has cookies fresh out of the oven, if you’re interested. Cinnamon rolls too, I think.”

“Ooh, that’s tough,” she says thoughtfully, tapping her chin. “Would it be bad if I got both?”

“Not even a little bit,” you assure, reaching into your box and pulling out a cookie. “But here, I’ll make it easier for you. Hope you like chocolate chip.”

Chaeyoung gratefully accepts the cookie you hand over. “Who doesn’t love chocolate chip?” she asks, taking a bite.

“Criminals and heathens,” you reply, snagging a cookie for yourself. “Among others.”

She tilts her head. “Doesn’t Jimin hate chocolate chip?”

“My point exactly.”

Chaeyoung giggles, hiding it behind a manicured hand, and you laugh right along with her. Together, you decide to grab some smoothies, and when you sit back down, the conversation turns to your trip up to the lake house. “Next time, we’ll have to do a girl’s trip,” Chaeyoung says, propping her chin in her palm. “Feels like it’s been ages since we’ve done one. You must’ve been exhausted with all those boys around.”

Unwillingly, your thoughts turn to Jungkook. “It wasn’t that bad,” you say slowly. “It was actually nice, being able to spend some time with them.”

“Who ended up going, anyway? Your brother, obviously. Taehyung? Yugyeom?”

You nod, raising a hand and ticking them off on your fingers. “Jimin, yeah. Taehyung, Yugyeom, Taemin, Minho. And Jungkook.”

If Chaeyoung notices the way you pause before saying the last name, she doesn’t comment on it. Her expression grows pensive, and you can practically see the gears turning in her head as she considers her next sentence. “You must be seeing a lot of him,” she says at last. “Jungkook, I mean.”

You take a massive sip of your smoothie and wonder if you’re imagining the lingering taste of him on your tongue. “Yeah, a bit,” you manage, your voice surprisingly steady. “He games with Jimin a lot.” After a pause, you decide to tell her the truth. “He dropped me off today, actually. Jimin’s working this summer, and I’ve been stuck at home, so he offered to take me downtown on his way to work.”

Chaeyoung hums thoughtfully. “He’s working at a restaurant or something, right?”

“Just a few streets away, yeah.”

Slowly, she nods. “We went out, you know.” Her voice is distant. “Just for a few weeks. He ended it after… well, after we slept together.”

There’s a pause, as Chaeyoung lets you digest this information, and a part of you wants to spill everything to her right then and there. Jisoo told me, you want to say, as acidic guilt begins to bubble up in your belly, every memory of the moments you’ve since shared with Jungkook rising unpleasantly in your throat. I’m sorry. I’m so,so sorry. You say it over and over again in your head, but the apology gets stuck in your throat when you try to voice it aloud.

Chaeyoung takes a sip of her smoothie and leans back in her chair with a sigh, oblivious to your internal struggle. “Maybe I should have seen it coming,” she says, gnawing on the end of the straw. “Everything changed our senior year, you know? It was like a switch had flipped—he started dating around, relationships that never lasted more than a week… I really should have known better when he asked me out. But I guess I thought I was different. We were already friends, after all. But whenever we were together, just the two of us, he was always… distant. Like he was somewhere else, mentally.”

Her words trail off, leaving only silence that you don’t know how to break. Chaeyoung sips at her smoothie again, before huffing out a laugh and waving a manicured hand in your direction. “God, sorry! I can’t believe I just started monologuing, ew. Jungkook this, Jungkook that—god. I’m not even mad at him anymore, you know? I just want him to figure his shit out.” Her eyes flit up to you briefly, before skittering back down to where a cookie crumb has landed on the tabletop. “It’s funny, though. Seeing him at Taehyung’s graduation party was probably the happiest I’ve seen him in a long time. He almost seemed like himself again.”

You can’t help it—the singular word bubbles up before you can stop it. “Really?”

Chaeyoung nods, her gaze flickering up to meet yours again. “Really. And honestly? I think it was because of you.”

Your heart does a series of backflips in your chest, thudding against the slats of your ribs. You try to respond, try to find the words, but they stick in your dry throat and your smoothie is practically gone at this point. Chaeyoung shrugs, unfazed by your silence, and you watch as she swirls her straw around in the remainder of her own drink. “I don’t know—maybe I’m imagining things. But it always seemed like he had a bit of a thing for you. Didn’t he used to follow you around the playground?”

The memory draws a startled laugh from your lips. “Sure, yeah. But that was in elementary school.”

Chaeyoung shrugs, smiling around her straw. “Still. We never really forget our first crush, do we?”

///

You head over to the restaurant after bidding Chaeyoung goodbye, her words weighing heavy on your mind and your heart. Through the tall glass windows, you can just barely make out Jungkook—looking sharp in a black collared shirt and matching slacks as he greets a table of diners. His smile is warm and his stance is confident, and you’re reminded of just how much he’s grown from that gangly kid you knew back in grade school when you catch the edge of flirtation lingering in his gaze.

The boy who used to follow you around the playground is gone. There’s no doubt in your mind about that. And so, you take a deep breath and walk into the restaurant, doing your best to smile at the host who greets you and asks whether you’d like to sit at a table or the bar.

“Hey, you made it!”

Jungkook strides over with a grin, taking the menu off the host’s hands and leading you over to an empty seat at the bar. “It’s full service, so you can order food here, too,” he explains. “You hungry? Thirsty?”

You glance down at the menu he places on the counter, scanning the lines of text. “Not really, but it smells really good so I might get something to go. And this carbonara sounds really good, actually.”

“It is,” Jungkook confirms. “I’ll go put the order in. You want some water or anything to drink?”

“Water’s good,” you tell him, and he nods before trotting off to do his job. You watch him disappear to the back of the restaurant before reappearing with a tray of glasses, and follow his meandering path through the tables as he disperses drinks and checks on the guests. Somehow, his shoulders manage to look even broader in his black shirt, and you can’t ignore the way they taper into a narrow waist that’s only emphasized by the belt threaded through the loops of his dark slacks.

He’s stopping at the table you first saw him at now, leaning in close when one of the women seated there asks him a question about something on the menu. His smile oozes easy charm, and you can’t help the feeling that flares in your chest when she reaches for the menu and purposely lets her fingertips graze his hand. Frowning, you tear your gaze away and focus on the wood grain of the bar counter. Your eyes zero in on a smattering of water droplets near your left arm, and you’re just about to run a fingertip through them when a voice sounds to your right.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

Surprised, you look up and find yourself face-to-face with a man who appears to be in his early thirties. Dark hair is brushed away from his forehead, a stray lock falling into his eyes, and you find yourself momentarily at a loss for words when your brain registers just how handsome he is.

“I—uh. I think Jungkook is going to grab me some water,” you finally manage, wanting nothing more than to melt into the ground when you hear the stammer in your voice.

“Ah, you know Jungkook?” The man laughs—a sound that is distinctly reminiscent of a squeaky windshield wiper. “He’s been pretty busy today, so why don’t I grab you that water instead?”

You nod, watching as he fills up a glass from the nozzle below the bar, accepting it when he hands it over. “Thanks.”

“Name’s Seokjin,” the man replies with an easy grin. “What’s yours?”

You return his smile and tell him your name. “Seokjin—Jungkook’s mentioned you a few times, I think. This is your place then, isn’t it?”

Seokjin beams. “Yep! Opened just a few months ago, after we finally sorted out the rat infestation and the asbestos problem in the rafters, and—” He pauses at the dumbfounded look on your face, and several beats pass before another peal of squeaky laughter escapes him. “I’m kidding. One-hundred percent. I promise the whole place is up to snuff.”

“So, I see you’ve met Seokjin.” Jungkook materializes at your side with a glass of water, which he takes a sip out of upon realizing that you already have a drink. “Is he making jokes about the health code again?”

“I would never,” Seokjin sniffs, and you laugh, finding yourself completely at ease for the first time since you entered the restaurant.

Jungkook rolls his eyes good-naturedly and turns his attention back to you. “Your carbonara should be out in a few,” he says, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “Are you sure you don’t want anything else?”

“Positive,” you assure him. “I’m full of chocolate chip cookies, anyway. Here, you want one? They’re still a little warm.”

Jungkook eyes the box you pull out of your bag hungrily. “Hell yes. I can smell them from here.” Laughing, you push the box toward him and watch as he pulls a cookie out and takes an enormous bite. “Thanks,” he says in between chews, his cheeks puffy. You can’t help but smile when he takes a sip of water to wash it all down, his eyes growing round.

Turning to Seokjin, you offer him a cookie as well, which he declines with a graceful wave. “I should be feeding you, not the other way around,” he remarks. “You got the carbonara, right? I’ll go see if it’s ready.”

With one last glance at the patrons sitting at the bar, Seokjin departs with a promise to be back in five minutes. Jungkook finishes off his cookie, and you’re considering offering him another when a familiar chirpy voice sounds from your left.

“Wow, it smells amazing in here! What do you think—should we sit at the bar?”

You whirl in the direction of the voice, your eyes immediately landing on a group of three girls standing near the entrance. Two of them you don’t recognize, but the third you’ve seen before. Mina, you’re pretty sure her name was, and you’d recognize her anywhere. The last time you’d seen her was at the restaurant on the night of Jimin’s and Jungkook’s graduation, and your face heats at the memory of everything else that transpired that night.

“Welcome!” Jungkook draws you out of your thoughts, and you turn to see that he’s wearing a bright, welcoming smile. “Were you looking to sit at the bar, or at a table? It looks like there are a few empty spots at the end of the bar, if you ladies would prefer that. Otherwise, I can take you to a table.”

Mina’s face lights up in recognition, and you’re forced to hide your scowl in your water glass. “Hey, we’ve met before, haven’t we?”

“You work at that place a few blocks down, right?” Jungkook jabs a thumb in the general direction of the street. “I’ve seen you around.”

She giggles and tucks a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “That’s right, yeah! I remember you now. Graduation, right? You were my best table of the night.”

Jungkook chuckles. “I bet you tell everyone that.”

“Not a chance,” Mina answers, looking him up and down before a coy smile curves her lips again. “I only say what I mean.”

“Honesty is the best policy,” Jungkook says agreeably. Then he turns to you, distractedly fiddling with his apron as he speaks. “Jin should probably be back with your food soon. Are you okay to sit here by yourself for a bit?”

You can only nod, still staring down into your water glass. “Yeah, sure. Go on, then.”

He smiles and gestures for Mina and the girls to follow after him, and you’re positive you don’t imagine the triumphant look that flashes across Mina’s face before she departs. Frowning, you grab a cookie from your box and break a piece off, grateful for the distraction. Seokjin drops off your carbonara a minute later, and you find yourself suddenly ravenous as you dig into the steaming bowl of spaghetti.

Jungkook returns to your side about five minutes later, raking a hand through his hair as he replaces his notebook back in his apron pocket. “Man, I’m beat,” he remarks. “Thank god Mina and her friends didn’t order anything complicated. My brain would’ve exploded.”

“Thank god for that,” you echo dully. Unwillingly, your gaze drifts over to where Mina is now sitting, chatting happily with her friends. “It’s weird, isn’t it? Seeing Mina here, of all places. I mean, what is she even doing here?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but most people go out and have fun on their days off,” Jungkook responds dryly, a grin breaking across his face when you roll your eyes at him. “Or wait… could it be that you’re jealous?”

You scowl. “Don’t be stupid.”

Jungkook just laughs, tilting your chin up with two fingers so he can look you in the eye. “It’s okay,” he says, his thumb brushing softly along the corner of your lips. “You’re cute when you’re jealous, princess.”

You don’t know how to respond to that, and thankfully you don’t have to. Seokjin returns with a takeout container for you to put your leftovers in, shrugging off your gratitude when you offer it.

“I’m discounting your food, too,” he says, leaving zero room for argument. “Any friend of Jeon’s is a friend of mine.”

Jungkook’s shift ends half an hour later. He turns on his roadtrip playlist on the drive home, and you are more than happy to let the music wash over you, eliminating any need for conversation and drowning out your thoughts.

“See you later, princess,” he says once he’s pulled into your driveway, following your every move as you climb out of the passenger seat.

It sounds like a promise coming from his lips, and you can only nod. “See you.”

///

You’re in the middle of buttering a piece of toast for breakfast the next morning when there’s a knock on the front door. Perturbed, you walk over to answer it, wondering if perhaps Jimin has forgotten his keys again, but when you peer through the peephole it isn’t Jimin who stares back at you.

“Jungkook—” you begin, swinging open the door, but he cuts you off before you can finish, taking your face in his hands and pressing his mouth to yours.

“Hey,” he whispers once he’s had his fill, pulling back just enough to mumble the greeting against your lips. “They’re all gone for the day, right?”

“Yes,” you confirm, still reeling from the suddenness of his appearance and the subsequent kiss. “But how did you—?”

“Jimin told me,” Jungkook answers shortly, before pulling you close and kissing you again. This time, you let yourself get lost in the feeling of his mouth against yours, following his lead as he ushers you back upstairs and breaking the kiss only once in the process. He lays you down onto your bed, the mattress dipping under your combined weight, and you sigh when he moves down to nip at your neck.

“No marks, Jungkook,” you remind him breathily. “You can’t leave marks.”

A low whine escapes him. “Can’t you wear a scarf?”

“It’s the middle of summer!” you huff in amusement, smacking his arm when he whines again and stubbornly sucks at the soft spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

Jungkook’s breath is hot against your skin. His fingers find the elastic waistband of your sweatpants, tugging them off your hips and down your legs, and you kick them off as soon as they’ve reached your ankles. Hungrily, his gaze traverses the newly revealed skin, and you shiver when he gently trails his fingertips up your calves and all the way to the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. “Jungkook,” you sigh. “I haven’t shaved in days.”

“Ask me if I care,” he replies hoarsely, leaning down to press the flat of his tongue against the growing damp spot seeping through the cotton of your underwear. It’s far from your sexiest pair—you’d categorize them as granny panties, in all honesty—but Jungkook doesn’t seem the least bit fazed as he hooks them aside and licks a broad stripe all the way up to your clit. “Want you,” he groans, and the vibrations from his voice send a volt of tingling electricity straight up your spine. “Want you in every way I can have you.”

You don’t respond. You don’t have to, because Jungkook is diving in with the enthusiasm of a man starved, tossing your underwear aside carelessly before banding his arms around your legs to hold you open. His face disappears between your thighs until only the top of his hair is visible, the dark strands mussed. Lips parting in a moan, your fingers find their way to his head, tangling at his roots, and Jungkook parts from your cunt briefly to groan his approval. Then he’s eating you out again—alternating between broad licks and teasing flicks to your clit before his tongue delves into your entrance, inhaling deeply as if he just can’t get enough.

The sun rises higher into the sky, beaming through your window and illuminating Jungkook’s head and shoulders in warm, hazy gold. You chant his name as you reach your high, spurred on by his teasing tongue and whispered words of encouragement, and the grin he wears when he straightens back up is near blinding. Slowly, he peels off his shirt and shucks off his jeans until he’s completely bare before you, the sun painting him in warm strokes of color. Deliberately, he crawls up your body, hiking up the hem of your shirt as he does. He plants kisses into your newly bared skin, and when he reaches your lips he settles there as if that’s where he’s meant to be.

Jungkook kisses you slowly. He kisses you deliberately—sensually—and you melt into his gentle touch, relishing in the feel of his bare body pressed so intimately against yours. You don’t miss the way his cock hardens against your thigh, but Jungkook seems to be in no hurry to do anything about it. Instead, he cups your cheeks and licks into your mouth, and you’re all too willing to part beneath him like a flower in bloom.

The rest of the afternoon passes like this—hot kisses and slow fucking, the two of you meshing until you’re no longer sure where you end and he begins. You keep an eye on the time, though, and by the time your parents and Jimin return home, you and Jungkook are showered and dry, sitting on the living room floor embroiled in a Mario Kart tournament.

“No fair! You played without me?” Jimin whines, plopping down between you and trying to wrest the controller away from Jungkook. “C’mon, let me have a turn. You’ve been at it all day!”

Jungkook’s gaze flickers up past Jimin’s shoulder to meet yours, his lips twitching in barely suppressed mirth. “Yeah. We sure were.”

///

“God, I’m going to be sore for the next month.”

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” your brother snorts, squeezing your cheek between his thumb and index finger like you’re a small child. His three o’clock dance class has just wrapped up, and people are slowly filtering out of the studio. A few of the younger women glance back toward where you’re standing with Jimin, and you have no doubt they’re vying for one last look at your brother in his tight-fitting joggers and loose tank that keeps drooping off one shoulder. Rolling your eyes, you suppress the urge to loudly bring up the time he walked into a sliding glass door and nearly chipped his tooth. Instead, you pinch his cheek back, and laugh when he pouts.

“Ow, hey! What happened to giving me all your love and support?”

“Please, Mom made me come to your class,” you retort, batting his invasive hand away. “I think she just wanted me out of the house.”

Jimin laughs. “Can’t blame her. You’re a goddamn freeloader.”

“Seriously? Because in that case, I’m dying to hear what that makes you.”

Thoroughly nonplussed, Jimin pinches your other cheek before dancing away on light feet. “I’m an angel. Now go away, so I can get ready for my next class!”

Rolling your eyes again, you heft your bag over your shoulder and turn on your heel. “Fine, fine. Good luck, and all that. See you at dinner.”

Jimin doesn’t respond, and when you peer over your shoulder at him, he’s already sprawled on the floor and reaching for his toes in the unmistakable first step of his warm-up routine. He waves when he sees you watching, and you stick your tongue out at him playfully before exiting the studio and heading for the door. You’ve borrowed your dad’s car for the day, and hum cheerily as you climb into the driver’s seat.

You spend the rest of the afternoon running errands—stopping by both the post office and the bank before heading for the grocery store to pick up some ingredients for dinner. By the time you get back home, Jimin has finished teaching at the studio as well, and you fix him with a stare as you plop two full bags of groceries in front of him on the kitchen counter.

“Care to help me carry the rest in?”

“Not really,” he replies, but he stands up and follows you outside to the car nonetheless.

Once all the groceries are inside and unpacked, you begin prepping for dinner. Jimin, to his credit, offers his help without you even having to ask, and with his assistance you finish cooking in record time. Your parents join you in the dining room, and together you enjoy the meal over the evening news.

You retire to your room after dinner, cracking open your laptop to go over the details of your internship for the umpteenth time. You’ve read the emails and the attached documents so many times you practically have them memorized, but the anxiety gnawing at your belly refuses to be quelled. You’re returning to Seoul in less than a week, and your empty suitcase sits in the corner of your childhood bedroom like a taunt. You wonder, briefly, if you should start packing.

“Nah, it can wait,” you decide, muttering the words to your nonexistent audience. Standing up, you stretch lazily before exiting your room and heading down the hall to the bathroom that you and Jimin share, muffling a yawn behind your hand.

You’ve just finished brushing your teeth when your phone vibrates against the bathroom counter, a notification lighting up your screen. Spitting into the sink and rinsing off your toothbrush, you towel off your face before picking up your phone, blinking owlishly at the text.

[11:08pm] Jungkook: can you come over?

By itself, it’s not an unusual request. At this late an hour, though, you can’t help the unease that rises up in your belly. And as if sensing your apprehension, your phone vibrates again.

[11:09pm] Jungkook: my parents are out

[11:09pm] Jungkook: please? i could use some company

There’s an edge of desperation in his last message—something you haven’t seen in him since you returned home. It reminds you a bit of the Jungkook you used to know—the scrawny, gangly one with a nose too big for his face and an all-encompassing fear of the opposite sex. Give me ten minutes, you tell him.

Okay, Jungkook writes back. See you soon.

The next few minutes are a blur. You slather on some moisturizer and consider changing out of your pajamas and putting on a bra, but dismiss the thought immediately. Jungkook has seen you in far less, and you’re staunchly opposed to putting a bra back on after a certain hour of the night. Besides, he’s sure to dispose of your clothes at some point, so there’s little point in changing. With that thought in mind, you tiptoe out into the hall, past your parents’ bedroom and Jimin’s closed door. You carefully edge around the creakiest floorboards and hop over the two steps in the staircase that always groan when subjected to additional weight. Gingerly, you edge open the front door, just enough to slip out into the night.

The trek across the yard doesn’t take long, and Jungkook swings the door open before you even get a chance to knock. “Hey,” he says, and you can’t help but smile at the familiar round glasses perched on his nose. He’s in his pajamas as well—a blue and white checkered set that’s about two sizes too big—and when he ushers you inside, you catch a whiff of his floral laundry detergent.

“Hey,” you say. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Long day,” he sighs, raking a hand through his already tousled hair and mussing it further. “Come on in. You want anything to drink?”

You shake your head, stepping into the entryway and watching as he closes and locks the door again. Jungkook nods and shuffles to the kitchen, where he pours himself a glass of water from the faucet and downs half of it in one swig. His throat bobs as he swallows, his head tilted back to expose the long line of his neck, and you step a little closer as he turns to refill the glass.

“On second thought, maybe I’ll have some water too.”

“Mm. Okay.” Jungkook turns and fetches a second glass, filling it to the brim before handing it over. Then he takes your free hand and leads you upstairs, taking a left turn into his bedroom and nudging the door closed with his foot.

“So…” you begin slowly, putting your water down on the nightstand and reaching for the hem of your shirt. “We need to be quick. My mom’s a light sleeper, and I’m pretty sure I heard Jimin playing games in his room when I walked by.”

Jungkook chuckles and lays his hands over yours, stilling your attempt to take off your shirt. “When did you turn into such a horndog, Noona? Maybe I just want to hang out.”

You blink. “Did you just want to hang out?”

Jungkook plops onto his bed and grabs you by the waist, tugging you down and into his lap. “I mean, yeah—I thought that was obvious. Figured we could watch a movie or something.” Grabbing the tv remote, he switches on the television hanging on the opposite wall. “Any suggestions?”

You hesitate. You’ve been in Jungkook’s bedroom just once since you’ve come back, and the memory of the way he’d bent you over the desk in the corner sends a pulse of heat to your cheeks. Tearing your gaze away from the piece of wooden furniture, you instead focus on the television screen, watching as he navigates over to the Netflix menu.

“We can go old school too, if you want,” he remarks as he scrolls through the list of new arrivals. “I have a DVD player.”

That draws a laugh from your lips. “When was the last time you purchased a DVD? Last I checked, you only had Kung Fu Panda, Iron Man, and two copies of Titanic for some reason that you still won’t tell me.”

Jungkook laughs, his chest rumbling against your back. “Call it human error,” he says, looping his arms comfortably around your waist and propping his chin on your shoulder. “How do you feel about going super old school? I can get the VHS player out of the basement and pop in one of the Pokémon movies.”

“I’m sure we won’t have to resort to that,” you assure him, grinning. “Here, why don’t we just watch Iron Man? Three’s your favorite, right?”

“Three is everyone’s favorite,” he says, scrolling over to the appropriate menu and clicking play. “It’s the best one, hands-down.”

“Won’t argue with you there.”

The movie starts, and you shift off Jungkook’s lap to switch off the lights. Darkness overtakes the room as the screen lights up with the opening credits, and when you return to the bed, Jungkook has sprawled comfortably against the pillows lining the headboard. His eyes remain glued to the screen even as he reaches for you, and you hesitate for only a second before joining him, laying down beside him and letting his arm find its way around your shoulders. The scent of floral laundry detergent fills your nostrils, and you subtly nestle a bit closer, resting your head on his chest.

This isn’t the first time Jungkook has seen this movie. You know this for a fact, yet that doesn’t change how raptly he watches the screen, the action sequences reflected perfectly in his glasses. He’s practically vibrating with excitement by the time of the final showdown, mouthing along to the lines, and you hide your smile in the blue-and-white squares of his pajama shirt as the music swells.

It’s well past midnight by the time the credits roll. Jungkook seems perfectly content to lie on his bed with his arm around you, and when you make to get up, his grip slides down to your waist to hold you in place. “You gotta watch the credits all the way through,” he says, blinking at you with bleary eyes now that the adrenaline from the final showdown has worn off. “There’s a post-credits scene, remember?”

You shake your head, but let him pull you back down onto the mattress regardless. “I’m sure you already know what it is. Why don’t you just tell me?”

“What’s the fun in that?” he asks with a grin.

The end credits continue—an endless stream of names scrolling down the screen. Your eyes begin to droop, the words blurring together, and it’s only when the music stops and the final scene begins that you jolt awake. Jungkook is faring no better than you are, suppressing a yawn behind his hand as he watches the last bit of the film through half-lidded eyes. Then the screen goes dark, and silence descends over the room once more. You glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand and see that it’s nearly two in the morning. A look back at Jungkook reveals that both his eyes have fallen shut, and you slowly begin wriggling free from his embrace in order to head home.

You’ve barely moved an inch when Jungkook’s arm tightens around your waist. “Stay,” he mumbles sleepily, one eye cracking open.

You should say no. You should head home to the safety of your own bed. But there’s something about Jungkook—something soft and fond in his tired gaze and something vulnerable in the way he’s holding you so tightly against his pajama-clad body with his hair in complete disarray and his round glasses askew. Heaving a sigh, you reach up to take them off his face, placing them neatly on his nightstand.

“Okay,” you whisper. “I’ll stay.”

Jungkook smiles sleepily and shuts his eyes. “G’night, then, Noona.”

“Night, Jungkookie.”

Within seconds, his breathing evens out, and you know he’s off in dreamland. Twisting in his grasp, you tug your phone out of your pocket and set a quick alarm for six o’clock. Neither of your parents wake up until seven at the earliest, and Jimin would sleep until three in the afternoon if he could get away with it, so you’re certain that you’ll have plenty of time to sneak back into the house. Besides, Jungkook’s bed is comfortable, and his chest is practically a furnace against your back. You aren’t sure you could work up the energy to leave even if you tried.

So instead, you settle back into his embrace and let sleep whisk you away.

///

There are birds chirping outside the window when you open your eyes the next morning, blinking blearily against the sun shining through the curtains. The blanket is tangled around your legs and there’s an arm looped around your waist, and you sit bolt upright when realization dawns. Jungkook groans and mumbles something unintelligible, but you don’t pay him any mind as you twist out of his grasp, clutching for your phone on the nightstand.

7:03am.

Shit.

Throwing your legs over the side of the bed, you rise to your feet and shove your phone into the pocket of your pajama pants. Jungkook makes a sound that vaguely resembles your name, and you spare him a glance as you fumble for your shoes. He’s flat on his back, blinking hair out of his eyes as he fights to stay awake. “Hey,” he manages, his voice raspy.

“I gotta go,” you whisper urgently, successfully putting your shoes on the right feet and wrenching the door of his bedroom open. And then you turn and dash out, leaving a very sleepy, very disheveled Jungkook blinking after you.

Your house, when you carefully crack open the front door and poke your head inside, is quiet. Much to your relief, you don’t hear any of the telltale signs that your family is awake and downstairs yet—no drip of the coffee maker and no sizzle of bacon or eggs. From upstairs, however, you can distantly hear the sound of the shower, so you dart inside and toe off your shoes, padding into the kitchen to start the coffee maker. You check the alarm you’d set the night prior as you scoop coffee grounds into the filter, and curse under your breath when you realize you’d somehow managed to select six PM instead of AM.

You’re seated in the living room with a mug of fresh coffee when Jimin shuffles in with damp hair and a sleepy frown. “You’re up early,” you remark.

“I have a morning class to teach,” he replies, yawning widely as he grabs a fresh mug. “What’s your excuse?”

You shrug. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Fair enough.”

Suppressing another yawn, your brother turns his attention to the refrigerator, rooting around for the milk. And you return yours to the window, where you can see the side of the Jeon’s house, and Jungkook’s bedroom window on the second floor. There are no signs of life from within, and you wonder if he’d gone back to sleep after your departure. Considering how tired he’d looked last night, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had.

Chaeyoung’s voice echoes in your mind then, soft and wistful. It always seemed like he had a bit of a thing for you. Happiest I’ve seen him in a long time. And honestly? I think it was because of you. We never really forget our first crush, do we?

And then Jisoo’s words rise up in your brain, just a bit louder. He’s a heartbreaker. He never, ever stays until the morning.

So why, then, did you wake up in his arms today?

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfiction #brother's best friend au #lia writes

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hutchhitched · 3 years

Text

Don’t Talk To Me

Written by: @hutchhitched

Prompt 76: Modern a/u Katniss is getting over the loss of her sister (you decide how) when she meets Peeta. She’s closed off but he finds a way in. Maybe she works for him? Him for her? Maybe she cries herself to sleep on his bread scented shoulder? (Please yes I need that) [submitted by @endlessnightlock]

Ratings/Warnings: T

A/N: Y’all... It’s finally here. This is story number nine from the nine prompts I claimed for the 2020 @everlarkficexchange and then lost the will to write during the early months of the pandemic. I wasn’t sure I’d get here, but it’s happened. This is not the story I intended to write when I took the prompt, but sometimes the muse takes control, and I simply follow. Thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy. Huge thanks to @javistg for understanding the delays and @endlessnightlock for being supportive of my plot change.

Katniss Everdeen hates people. Well, that’s not exactly true, but she doesn’t exactly like them either. They’re too…human or whatever. Too many acquaintances. The last thing she wants to do is get close to any of them, especially after the events of the past few months. She’s barely holding it together as it is, and introducing people or, even worse, friends could tip her right over the edge. She values her sanity.

That’s probably why the new, sweet, disgustingly optimistic, overly friendly hire at the coffee shop where Katniss works irritates her so much. He’s just so nauseatingly earnest. It makes her want to punch him in the face.

“How’s my favorite barista today?” he asks when she joins him behind the counter while still tying her apron. She mumbles noncommittally, but he doesn’t seem at all deterred. “I like that sweater.”

“Peeta,” she says as she attempts to maintain control of her temper. He looks at her with such eagerness, she wilts under his obvious enthusiasm. “I’m just… It’s not a good day. Can we not?”

His face falls, and she almost relents. She doesn’t know what it is that’s convinced him she’s someone he needs to befriend, but she simply has no interest. She doesn’t want more entanglements. They hurt too much.

“Sorry,” he whispers and turns away. She swallows a twinge of guilt for hurting his feelings, but she doesn’t yield. Instead, she pivots to the espresso machine and starts making coffee. They work together silently, their only conversation about drink orders. They move around each other easily with no uncomfortable bumping or banging elbows or shoulders. He’s a good worker, at least, and he knows how to take a hint.

“See you tomorrow,” Peeta says softly as his shift ends, and she flashes a brief smile. She doesn’t want to be rude, but come on. He doesn’t have to be friends with everybody.

It continues like that for months, him fruitlessly friendly and her taciturn and distant. He continues to pursue a friendship, never pushing or prodding, simply being there and consistently showing kind. It’s exhausting.

“How do you manage to stay so sickeningly upbeat?” she asks finally after several days of wanting to scream. He wears her down. She’d tell him to stop, but she’s starting to think she might like his optimism a little bit.

He pauses for a second to glance at her before returning his attention to slipping sleeves onto the cup he’s holding. He calls out the order and smiles at the customer before answering. “What’s the other option? Being miserable?”

“Well, I’m pretty good at it.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” he argues softly. “I think you’ve had a rough time, and you’re grieving and healing. No one begrudges you that.”

She gapes at him for a few seconds before snapping back to attention. The last thing she needs is to break down in front of everyone. Somehow, she thought he didn’t know anything. It’s disconcerting to realize her grief is on public display when she’s worked so hard to tuck it away. She reels, and he presses his lips together in frustration.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“It’s… You’re fine.” She swallows hard and shakes her head. “I’m taking my break.”

His wounded expression slices through her as she flees.

****

Another couple of weeks pass before Katniss finds herself alone with Peeta again. They’re scheduled to close on a slow night, and everyone else has gone home when he locks the door behind the last customer and she turns off the light and secures the window for the drive through window.

“Alone at last,” she jokes and is struck by his wry grin.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Lock up? I think I do.”

He catches her gaze and refuses to let it drop. “Pretend to be happy you’re here with me.”

“I—”

“I’m sorry,” he insists. “I thought maybe if I could talk to you and stop being so, you know, wounded that maybe we could take a shot at being friends. I didn’t mean to upset you, Katniss. That’s the last thing I’d ever want to do.”

She doesn’t answer for several beats. He squirms a little and drops his eyes to study twisting hands and twitching feet. She’s going to regret this. She knows she will. Still, there’s something sweet and shy and kind that she yearns for when the rest of the world is so hard and cold. Maybe it’s weakness or something else equally awful she should expunge from her personality, but she can’t let him spiral this way. Maybe it’ll stop hers, too.

“We could, uh, try that.”

It comes out garbled and stunted, but the change in his countenance makes her glad she took the step. A thousand emotions flit over his handsome face, but a grin splits his lips so wide that his teeth flash white. She holds up her hands to head him off, but he steadies himself. With eyes twinkling, he chuckles.

“I saw the fear there for a second. I’ll control myself before I start asking the deep stuff.”

“The deep stuff?” she asks, still gun-shy.

“Yeah, like it’s crazy that I’d voluntarily cover a shift for you if you called in sick, but I don’t know your favorite color.”

“It’s green.”

“Mine’s orange.”

“Like those chairs?” she laughs and nods at the overly bright upholstery on the furniture. Apparently someone in corporate thought pumpkin spice wasn’t just their most popular fall drink; it was also where customers could put their butts as they sipped caffeine-laden drinks.

“Softer,” he answers, his voice a breathy whisper. “Like the sunset.”

Her eyes drift shut. He’s put a spell on the space with his words, and she wants to stay there for a moment. When he’s not being overeager, Peeta Mellark is charming as hell. Lord, help her.

“Can I tell you a secret? It’s really important.”

She tenses, but when she opens her eyes, she finds that he’s moved closer to her and propped his hip against the counter. He looks so young and hopeful there’s no way she can be scared of him.

“If you must,” she sniffs and smiles to soften her response.

“Lean in close. It’s a big one.” She does so slowly, and he waits patiently until she’s close enough that he can whisper, “Don’t tell our boss, but I’m a tea guy. Two lumps of sugar. I don’t even like coffee.”

Her eyes widen for a split second, and then she bursts into laughter. Tears gather in her eyes as she shakes. “That’s not a big one!”

“Coffee is life, Katniss. A known tea drinker would be cast out among the wolves. I’ll just stay incognito. I’m trusting you with my life here.”

“And what if I spill it?”

“Spill the tea?” He winks as she gasps for air. Just as quickly, he wipes his expression from his face and assumes mock sobriety. Somberly, he picks up the broom and starts to sweep. “Well, then, I guess you’ll have one fewer opponent to beat out for employee of the month.”

The whole idea that Katniss, surly and grumpy as she is, could ever win a customer service award is so preposterous she can’t keep from giggling. By the time the café is clean, she’s a million times lighter. When they head separate ways after locking up, she watches him as he strides down the street. Before he turns the corner, he tosses a look over his shoulder and waves. She doesn’t even have to think about it. She waves back.

****

They become friends, and it upends her life. Katniss isn’t used to having people around. Not since her sister passed away and left her all alone in the world. Katniss had gotten used to being an orphan, but when her sister was killed in a car crash, the loneliness and despair overwhelmed her. With Peeta around, she doesn’t feel quite so isolated anymore.

They take short walks on shared breaks, and he leans down to pick dandelions from between the sidewalk cracks before handing them to her with a bashful grin. He shields her from overly aggressive customers during busy periods at the café, and, after several weeks, he manages to convince her that spending time together outside of work isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

“Friends do tend to see each other in social settings,” he teases, and Katniss finally relents.

They go to movies and basketball games and art exhibits and archery competitions and all sorts of other things she had no idea she’d enjoy until Peeta suggested the activity. Sometimes, they do mundane things like grocery shopping together. She finds she likes trying new things as long as there’s someone with her and they can debrief about what was good and bad afterward. He convinces her to try one of those art classes with BYOB wine and a pre-chosen image to paint, and she gasps when his own creation takes on a life of its own while hers seems like a bad paint with water replica. He teaches her to cook bread and cookies and cinnamon rolls, and she shares her heirloom lamb stew recipe with him. They’re comfortable together. He never pushes, never makes her feel like he needs anything more than simple friendship.

Until, that is, the anniversary of her sister’s death.

She should have taken off work. She knows that, but the café is short-handed. Besides, she needs the money. It’s rainy and muggy and awful when she leaves the house, and the subway is packed much more than usual. She’s jostled and pushed and touched inappropriately (although, that was likely unintentional with how closely pressed together the passengers are in the train car), so that by the time she gets to work, she’s irritable, grumpy, and a ten seconds from losing it.

It’s possible it’s the weather or the alignment of the stars or an almost full-moon or the changing of the seasons. It could be that other people are suffering from trauma and loss and depression, as well. Or it could be that Katniss just has really bad luck.

“This drink is wrong.”

The harsh complaint is snapped at her by an unpleasant looking man with white hair and a beard. He looks at her like she’s something rotten on the underside of his shoe when he shoves the cup toward her and sloshes some of the hot liquid on her outstretched hand. She hisses at the burn and immediately turns to the sink to run cold water over her skin before it blisters.

“Don’t turn your back on me! Fix my coffee.”

Katniss tenses, her guard up, but she refuses to move. His actions burned her, and she’s following not only methods of self-preservation but also the company’s safe work policies. Injuries are to be treated immediately on the job. She’s doing that.

He continues yelling, attracting the attention of patrons and staff. Peeta finishes with the order he’s taking and quickly intervenes, coming to her rescue whether she wants him to or not. She’s not sure which is accurate.

“Can I help you, sir? My name is Peeta, and I’m—”

The man squints at Peeta and raises a shaking hand toward me. He’s livid, and Peeta takes a half-step back at the fury that’s suddenly directed his way. The situation escalates. It’s not pretty. The police are called, and customers are shaken. That’s nothing compared to the way Katniss quakes inside her own skin. She’s barely holding it together when their manager intercedes.

“Get her out of here,” Haymitch barks at Peeta before turning to the customer. The coffee cup he’s thrown at her rolls on the floor in a puddle of liquid. The name scrawled on the outside is Snow. It’s ironic. Katniss has always hated winter.

They make it to the back before she crumbles, and Peeta lets go of her hand to help her sit down on a stack of crates. He settles next to her and pulls her into a loose embrace—tight enough so that she knows he’s there but loose so she doesn’t feel trapped. It’s the perfect way to comfort her. He’s perfect, and she’s a mess.

The tears flow, and she’s too broken to bother to wipe them away. Shoulders shake and sobs tear from her throat in gulping heaves. At one point, she moans her dead sister’s name. It’s a mournful wail that washes over her and makes her hurt even worse. He pats her back and toys with the tip of her braid. It’s an unlikely source of solace, and it causes her to turn into him and press her face to his shoulder.

He smells like bread, she realizes in a random flash of clarity. She’s lamenting her sister, but that scent claws at her senses and registers in the olfactory section of her brain. How odd, she thinks before a fresh wave of grief shakes her torso.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry. I’m here. Take as long as you need. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

She’s not, though. She’s not all right, and she knows he understands that. He’s working with a limited vocabulary as he tries to help her. That’s what people say when they’re faced with a weeping friend. She’s done it herself. His tone of voice and gentle touch more than prove his compassion for her pain.

She doesn’t know how long they sit there, but it’s long enough that her tears have soaked his shoulder. A sharp cough invades their little bubble, and they both glance up to see Haymitch in the doorway.

“Clock out,” he orders in that gruff way of his. “We’ve got you both covered. Take her home, boy.” Peeta nods at the nickname without protest. It would be offensive if it meant anything other than their boss can’t remember anyone’s names, although that’s bad enough.

Peeta hails a cab and gives her address. He escorts her to her door and unlocks it for her before guiding her inside and seating her on the couch. When he moves away, she grabs at his hand and pulls him down next to her. His arms envelop her again, and she presses her face into his neck and allows the tears to streak down her cheeks while she hiccups. She hates being vulnerable, but she trusts him. They’ve grown close over the past few months.

Finally, she runs dry. Her sobs subside, and her body stills. He doesn’t shift, doesn’t attempt to pull away. Instead, he simply waits and gives her the space for what she needs. It’s a beautiful thing to grieve with someone who allows it to occur instead of hindering the process. She’s not okay. She won’t be for a long time, but she’s survived today. For now, that’s enough.

“Thank you,” she mumbles against his shoulder. When he doesn’t answer, she glances up at him through wet lashes and finds him looking at her with compassion in his piercing blue eyes. She could fall into them if she’d let herself. When he lifts his hand to brush flyaway wisps of hair from her forehead, she thinks maybe she should.

Time freezes. There’s a pulse between them that shakes the world. They’re drawn together, and she doesn’t second guess it or pull away from him. Instead, she closes her eyes and meets his mouth with hers. It’s gentle, just a sweet brush of lips, but it tastes like a reawakening, like the snow melting away and the earth coming back to life in spring.

It’s scary. It’s terrifying. It’s also right. After the events of the past year, she deserves a new beginning.

#everlarkficexchange #springtime edition 2020 #prompt 76 #everlark #everlark fanfiction #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #don't talk to me #bring on the new beginnings #ready for the next round

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remus-la-swearwolf · 4 years

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Sirius Black:

Either silent or loud af, no inbetween

Tries to be punk rock, is actually soft

Once cried at a sad commercial

Laughs at everything

Is an emotional wreck

When he talks with his mates, it’s in code

INSIDE JOKES

So many inside jokes

A wild gay

Thinks drugs are cool

Is he on crack???

Puns

Would die for his friends

Secretly a romantic

Only for Remus

Either moody af or screaming

Never studies

Drama queen

Can keep a secret

Impulsive

Sometimes selfish

Tells dark jokes at the worst times

Either fails completely or aces tests

Everyone thinks he’s good at singing

He’s really not

Hates snitches

Defends his friends

Blunt AF

Has no fucks left to give

James Potter:

An actual arsehole before he grew tf up

You had him saved as ‘Buttmunch’ or smt

Arrogant to hide low-self esteem

You used to hate him

Hugs friends in corridors

Has lots of weird nicknames

Everyone thinks he has a stag fetish

References jokes only you two know

Stans Godric Gryffindor

Kinda good at singing

Can’t stop showing off

Has sex hair

Noisy in lessons

Once set Mrs. Norris on fire

Doesn’t know what boundaries are

Annoying af sometimes

Thinks he’s really hot

Tries to be badass

Pisstake

Forgets his wand everywhere

Does stupid shit to impress Lily

Nearly got suspended over an incident involving Peter and Filch in a wedding gown

Always comments on your appearance

A bit of a a bully

Knows everything about everyone

Complete gossip girl

Remus Lupin:

Bisexual disaster

Everyone thinks he’s a cinnamon roll – wrong

Finger guns

Quiet until you know him

Hated you until Third Year

Somehow is punk rock in sweaters –Sirius is jealous

Always eating chocolate

Protective af of food

Knows the randomest facts and everyone thinks he’s smart

Will straight up bullshit fake statistics and facts to win an argument

Usually does win

Could kill you with looks

Knows how to get rid of a body

Grammar nazi

Will make you cry if you piss him off

Brings books to read under the table instead of doing work in class

Reads fanfiction until 2 AM

Blames eyebags on ‘insomnia’

Late to everything

Sleeps in class

Probably sells weed

A cynic

Peter Pettigrew:

Always spreading shit about someone

Victimises himself

Smells like cheese

Refuses to take off his coat

There are many conspiracies flying around as to what is hidden under there

Keeps bringing up old fights and stuff you apologised for

Will get you in trouble to save himself

Cries to get people on his side

Has an odd relationship with the Giant Squid

Nearly got married to Filch with James as the best man

Will tell your secrets

Somehow he’s still popular

Cracks under pressure

Probably outed your best friend

You actually used to be really close

Makes it obvious he’s talking shit about u

Gets angry when you retaliate

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willadisastercry · 3 years

Text

Sleep deprived Keith annoying the crap out of the other paladins before crashing

Tw: depiction of sleep deprivation, insomnia, needles.

Keith has trouble sleeping sometimes... but this is a new level for him. His teammates can’t remember the last time he looked well slept and neither can he. They also don’t remember him being this hyper or social with them, like literally ever.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Shiro so annoyed,” Lance whispered over a crouched Pidge as they peered around the corner into the control room.

Keith was hovering around Shiro as he typed away on the panel in front of him, working out the strategy for their next mission.

“Well, if you really think about it, the Galra are kind of like space Russia, they have a lot of real estate, the people are really tall, and—hey, wait why wouldn’t we infiltrate the loading dock first? That’s the most reliable route because the lions won’t be far, we can just cloak them ya know, like all stealth? and if we go in where...”

“I think his mouth is twitching, watch. There it is, it did it again!” Pidge pointed out, her eyes wide in amazement.

The older boy’s mouth was indeed twitching, the corner pulling up like he wanted to say something as well as drop someone, but he refrained from both.

“I think I would’ve punted Keith across the room by now... do you think Shiro meditates, he must meditate, ya know? He’s always so calm and reasonable, always telling us that we have to breathe and whatever, no one can possibly be that zen without—“

But before Lance could finish his analysis on Shiro’s freak ability to be so zen, the basis of his argument shattered with an explosion from their team leader.

“I can’t even hear myself think, Keith!” Shiro started, a vein very visibly pumping away on his forehead as his face took on a dark flush.

“I have been watching the same surveillance loop for five minutes now beccause I can’t focus with you rambling in my ear!”

The red paladin’s face fell, his antsy pacing halted and his hands tapping his side like he was anticipating something. He took a breath. He hadn’t realized he’d started trembling.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—fuck,” Keith said before turning away, “I’ll leave you alone.”

Lance and Pidge nearly toppled over with how aggressively they flung themselves away from where they had been perched while they eavesdropped. Mostly out of curiosity at how Shiro would handle a manic-ly energetic Keith.

They could hear Shiro cursing under his breath, then ushering an apology for being so harsh but Keith likely didn’t hear it as he hightailed it out of there. He moved so quickly he didn’t even notice the pair as they stood planted in the center of the hallway failing to feign even the slightest of nonchalance.

Shiro ducked his head out to find that Keith had already disappeared and became wildly flustered when he found the very guilty-looking pair instead.

“Uhuh,” he cleared his throat, “do you guys know what’s going on with Keith? I didn’t mean to be such a dick, but he’s like next level tweaking out and I have no idea why...”

“Uh, we’re not sure either,” Pidge replied, “but he’s been like this all morning.”

“Yeah, he made Coran snap and crack a crystal in half earlier...”

“Oooo and Allura stained her dress when he wouldn’t shut up about how human mice carry infection and probably shouldn’t be near food and then she like flung her coffee...”

“And poor Hunk was trying to entertain his ramblings about the how hard it is to attain cinnamon in space and that it should be rationed and ended up burning a whole batch of snickerdoodles...”

“He was bouncing off the walls, it was weird” Pidge resolved. “And Keith never has that much energy.”

“Yeah, he’s been rambling, that’s my thing! The kid hardly says more than five words in one sentence and now he can’t shut up,” Lance added, scratching his head.

“Okay,” Shiro looked like he was running over in his head a million possibilities of what could be wrong, “will you two go check on him for me... and let him know I didn’t mean to yell at him?”

“Of course.”

“We’ll let you know if we figure it out,” Lance promised before they started after their friend.

They checked the common room first as it was the next room on their way and found only a grumpy Hunk scraping the singed bits off of the plate of cookies in front of him.

“D’you see Keith?” Pidge asked, surveying the sight before her.

“No,” he gruffed sadly, taking a bite of one of the cookies and breaking it off with a loud snap.

“Okay, keep an eye out, we think something’s wrong...” Lance looked around, “I know where he might’ve gone but we have to grab something first, let’s go.”

They took off at an urgent trot, once again more out of curiosity than concern because this just didn’t occur. Keith is a guy of few words, so when he speaks it’s usually sarcasm, not a rapid flurry of silly questions that seem more like the goofy blue paladin than the tempered red. This was weird for him. And they just wanted to know why.

But their curiosity changed quickly into fear as soon as they entered the hallway of the training room because they could hear the intense whir of the simulator working. From down the hall.

“Shit Keith,” Lance said activating their bayards they stopped to pick up on the way.

“He’s got it on the highest setting—not even Shiro can handle that intensity solo,” Pidge noted as they raced for the door.

“This kid’s got a death wish,” Lance deadpanned as he wrenched the doors of the training room open, only to be immediately met with Keith’s strangled scream as his head snapped against the floor with a sickening crack, the sentry that threw him across the room quickly closing the distance between them.

Lance ran forward and knelt down, slowly lining up shots and taking down the new sentries as soon as they regenerated while Pidge made her way to the kill switch.

By the time she got to the lever and tugged it all the way down Keith was dangling from his twisted arm and throat, shuddering gasps the only noise he was able to make in protest.

Lance had just taken out the second sentry cornering Keith with a head shot when every robot assailant powered down at once, the one choking Keith releasing his grip on his throat first, his arm pulling at an awkward angle as he fell before it was released. The pale boy let out a shrill gush before clamping his lips together tightly and pulling his slumped form up with the help of the wall.

“What the fuck was that, mullet?!”

He refused to make eye contact with his worried friends as he went to storm out like before, but this time he moved slowly, gingerly.

“I needed a good workout... to clear my head,” was all he managed. They could tell he didn’t want to let on that he was in pain, but the way he grimaced when his arm swung as he walked as well as the obvious bump protruding from his shoulder where no bone should be told them otherwise.

“Oh, that’s a load! That was not a good workout, that was a good ass-whooping! And I’m not entirely sure there’s anything left in your head to clear after the way it smacked the—“

“You’re hurt,” Pidge blurted. “The sentry dislocated your shoulder, I’m staring at the head of your right humerus and I shouldn’t be able to do that...”

“Oh... huh,” was all the mind he seemed willing to pay to his injury, his eyes bleary and wider than usual as he continued to walk away from them, but they persisted.

“We’re taking you to get that checked out by Coran. Right now,” Lance ordered.

“I’m good,” he assured, shouldering the door with his other arm.

Lance reached the door handle first and pulled on it, keeping Keith from going anywhere and spurring a low groan when his bad shoulder was jolted.

“Lance...”

He looked so tired.

He closed his eyes and continued to lean heavily into the hulking door of the training room. Under the bright artificial lights his skin looked greyer than it usually did, every bone in his face sickly accentuated and sharpened, the staple bags underneath his eyes hanging heavier than ever.

“Keith, you’re hurt and something else is obviously wrong so NO, we’re not letting you storm off to go pout to maintain your stup—“

“Shut up—“

Keith’s vision tunneled, his eyes fixed in a clearly unfocused haze as he stared at nothing.

“What?” Lance questioned, very caught off guard by the sudden interjection.

“I s-said shut u-up,” he whispered as he sucked in a shuddering breath.

The shrillness of Lance’s chastisement made his head swim and he blinked away the haze that came with the sudden levity.

“Hey, take it easy...”

It seemed the more he tried to control the tremor in his voice the worse his entire body seemed to shake.

He was fading; he could feel it.

The exhaustion had given way to anxiety as the adrenaline dripped dry allowing him to fully feel the pain in his shoulder as it pulsed angrily.

It was like the tide was washing out, the tumultuous waves of the storm that settled itself in his chest receding just before the next wave surged, and then he could feel everything he’d been ignoring.

Every individual bone seemed to ache with weariness and the pressure behind his tired eyes was so immense that it made him unsteady.

“Woah, what’s going on man?”

The floor suddenly seemed to shift beneath him, like he was walking on one of those moving conveyer belts in the airport that made your feet feel weird once you were back on solid ground.

“I think you should sit down,” Pidge urged, tugging worriedly at the hem of his shirt.

As much as his pride wanted him to protest he couldn’t seem to muster enough energy to even disagree let alone have a shred of cofidence that he could possibly get himself back to his room on his own.

They seemed to understand by his silence that he wouldn’t push away their help now and then he could feel firm hands on his good shoulder and back, guiding his trembling frame down to the floor where he came to rest his head on the knee that wasn’t bouncing.

“Where you at, mullet?”

The tinier hand had never left the middle of his back and rubbed soothing circles on the tense muscles beneath it.

“Can you tell us what you feel like right now?” Pidge asked before moving a hand to steady his restless leg.

He took a strained breath.

“D-dizzy... c-cold maybe, I-I don’t know why I can’t stop s-shaking.”

“That’s okay, don’t worry about that.”

“Here, this’ll help,” Lance added as he draped his jacket over Keith’s back, careful to not have it touch his injury.

“How’s your shoulder? Is anything else hurting?”

Keith thought about it for a solid minute, finding it sort of difficult to organize his thoughts and give Pidge an answer.

“Hurts a lot. S-so does my head... I have a headache—maybe... maybe a migraine I d-don’t know.”

“Is that what was bothering you before? The lights are pretty bright in here so that’s probably not helping... why don’t we start heading to the infirmary, before it gets worse?”

He nodded slowly against his knee and lifted his head up, his eyes still pressed together tightly. He pried one open to test his head but the swirling nausea and general agony that followed was answer enough.

“You don’t have to keep them open if it hurts.”

He hummed in acknowledgment and steeled himself as they took up his good arm and pulled him to his feet then waited for him to give the go ahead before making their way.

It was almost worse when his eyes were closed. The pounding in his head had only increased while they guided him, each step rattling his brain around so painfully that it almost distracted him from the instense heat in his shoulder.

He didn’t know why his head hurt so bad and why it was making his eyes so sensitive. He knew he’d hid it, but not hard enough to warrant this. He was also really tired, practically jumping out of his skin every few moments when he let his head tip forward slightly as if to nod off, which was entirely strange and alarming seeing as he was so drowsy he almost fell asleep while still walking.

He hadn’t noticed when they made it to the infirmary, only realizing when he was being pushed to sit down on something and a light was being shone across his now opened eyes.

“No! Oh-ouch,” he inhaled sharply when the light retreated and he was left seeing a blurred strip of bright white across his field of vision.

“I apologize, my boy, it had to be done. No concussion though! We have dimmed the lights for your comfort, the aversion is most peculiar given your injuries... “

He proded Keith’s shoulder blade and the inflamed area around it, earning a hiss when he tested the dexterity of the limb.

“The scanner detects significant ligament damage that will need to be corrected in a pod after I er... set the joint in its proper place. It will hurt for only a tick and I have several nerve blockers and muscle relaxers I can inject in the area to make the process less painful. Does that sound manageable to—“

But Coran didn’t get to hear Keith’s answer, the way his face greened and he clamped a hand over mouth was telling enough. He bit back a sob as he lurched forward, not enough time or notice for anyone to prepare before Keith was dry heaving, but they didn’t really need to worry because nothing but saliva came up.

“Were you at all ill before this today? This is the first time you’ve been sick to your stomach... when was the last time you ate?”

Silence only followed for a dobash before all three launched into different themes of admonition, but they all had the same anger to them. He knew they meant well, that they were just worried, but the bite to their words made his eyes sting like hell and he was seriously worried he wouldn’t be able to keep the tears at bay before Shiro was there telling them to be quiet.

He turned his head away and tried to breathe normally, but his chest was working up and his head throbbed pitifully and the movement made the burning in his shoulder deepen to where he had to hold his breath to keep from aggravating it. But Shiro’s warm, human hand was pulling his face towards his own, his eyes taking in Keith’s form and coming to several conclusions at once, the tension everywhere, the darkness under his eyes, the tightness in his jaw, the way his hands shook entwined about themselves...

“Keith,” his voice was so low and warm, he felt his chest pang at the gentleness in it. He closed his eyes, he knew what was coming next and he was both relieved and terrified for it.

“When was the last time you got a solid night’s sleep?”

He waited, even though they both already knew the answer and then it was when his hand moved to cup the top of his head that he finally broke. He didn’t need to speak for Shiro to know the answer.

Too long. It had been entirely too long since Keith could remember going to bed and waking up refreshed, each night only more frustrating than the last as he laid his head on his pillow and closed his eyes, knowing full well it wouldn’t work. Nothing did.

This week had been too much though. Running on empty on far too many missions followed by a dozen insomnia-induced late night training sessions trying to tire himself out in order to snag only a few hours of rest.

He’d just kept excerting himself and not ever properly recharging, but not on purpose, he physically couldn’t.

That part wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t help that, but he could let people know he was struggling and he had purposefully not alerted Shiro.

“Shit, Keith,” Shiro murmured with Keith’s forehead on his chest as he held back the sound of his crying, “you have to tell me when it gets bad like this! It’s not safe for you to be fighting and training when you’re not properly rested, you know that...”

Coran resumed analyzing his shoulder.

“And now you’re hurt because I snapped at you—Keith, I’m so sorry, I should’ve realized...”

“D-dont,” he managed through stiff breaths as Coran worked his bad arm gently out of his shirt, “s’not your fault, never is.”

Shiro set his jaw and eyed Coran who looked at him sadly and nodded.

“This conversation is far from over, but we have to get that shoulder fixed right now.”

Coran asked Pidge to gather some supplies and Lance to help him brace Keith.

“You’ll feel a small pinch in your arm now.”

He did. The area felt cold with the liquid that was now under his skin and Coran rubbed it for a minute before moving near his collarbone.

“This one might burn, but you’ll find it entirely numb in a dobash.”

This one was quicker, less to inject, longer to rub in so it spread. It burned and itched, earning a groan before he felt less of Coran’s fingers and more of just pressure.

“Oh, that’s... better.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

He felt someone kneeling behind him holding just below his shoulder and around his chest. Someone else was in front of him holding his arm up with their hand on his other shoulder, Shiro’s hands on his shaking one.

“Now I trust you’re familiar with what is about to happen, do you want me to explain what I am doing or—“

“Don’t explain, just—“

The pain that exploded with the hollow pop that followed was even grosser than the sound itself. Keith’s vision whited for a second and he was immediately ashen and panting as his body worked through the shock of the correction, his ears rang and so he wasn’t sure if he had screamed or not but with the way his throat ached he’d assumed he had.

Exhaustion weighed on him like a sopping wet blanket, making it difficult to keep his head up let alone his entire upper body. He wasn’t sure how long he had been leaned against Shiro’s chest once he started coming back to himself and realized he was the only thing keeping him upright.

Something was compressing his shoulder, pulling in places he didn’t quite like as it was wrapped tightly around the still damaged joint, making its way around his chest and back several times. Shiro held him away for a moment while something fell around his neck that held his arm against his chest and had an attachment to secure it to his side.

He tried to open his eyes and see what was going on but they were so very heavy and he was in awe of how he wasn’t entirely asleep by now, almost thankful for the steady ache behind his eyes as it was forcing him to keep them closed.

“You still there, Keith?”

He hummed into Shiro’s shirt in response.

“Hey, so we’re going to forgo the pod to repair all the torn ligaments for a little while. Coran thinks it’s best that you catch up on your sleep without the being frozen part... we’ll see how you’re feeling tomorrow, does that sound alright to you?”

It sounded superb to him. Truly.

He wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline crash or the general daze from sleep deprivation, but he was entirely checked out. Sufficiently out of it to care much about anything other than Coran’s lovely altean painkillers and the comfy pillow his head was now resting on.

Once he was laid down he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness almost immediately, the last thing he knew before he was consumed in bliss was the blanket that was being pulled up to his chest and Shiro calming words.

“Rest, buddy.”

And he finally did because now he actually could.

He wasn’t sure if it was the level of exhaustion he’d brought himself to or the threat of pain when he awoke, but whatever it was keeping him asleep he was grateful for it. Coran never even had to administer a sedative to keep him down during the night, just pain killers so he wouldn’t be woken up by his shoulder.

He slept for a day and a half after that, everyone taking turns watching over him while he slept so Shiro didn’t bring upon himself a similar fate.

The next time he was conscious coming deep into the next night, nearly early morning. Shiro stirred in the chair he was posted up in when Keith groaned and tried to turn over but cried out instead.

“Crap, what—hey... you’re okay,” Shiro soothed as he held Keith’s searching hand away from the thick layer of bandages covering his shoulder.

“It hurts, Shiro! It h-hurts!”

“I know, Keith, I know it hurts.”

Shiro sounded sad, Keith didn’t want to make him sad.

“I’m sorry...”

“You don’t need to be sorry for anything, bud.”

“I was stupid, I shoulda t-told you—just didn’t want you to worry.”

“I’m always going to worry about you, Keith. All of us are going to worry until you stop giving us reasons to,” he laughed weakly as he ran his hand through Keith’s hair while his breathing returned to normal.

“And until then, we’ll be here to make sure you don’t get pulverized by the training simulators and aren’t walking around delirious from not having slept in a week, okay?”

“Aha, yeah... okay.”

He tried to doze off again, but the steady pulse of pain in his shoulder seemed to prevent it. After an hour of trying, Shiro called Coran in who agreed it was also time to go into a pod.

“You will feel as good as new in no time, number four.”

Keith nodded absently as he rested his head back against the cushion in the cryopod before its doors closed with a whoosh and then cold surrounded him, lulling him off into another much needed sleep.

#keith whump #whumpee #vld #voltron whump #voltron fic #whump tropes #keith kogane #voltron fandom #keith angst #sleep deprived af #vld shiro #takashi shirogane #vld lance #vld pidge #worried teammates #keith needs a nap

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dreaming-of-assclass · 3 years

Note

Can you do hc’s on Group 4, but more specifically hc’s on the quiet ones (Nagisa, Okuda, and Kanzaki) and the loud ones (Karma, Sugino, Kayano). Thanks for work you do :)

Thank YOU for sending an ask about my kids 🤧💜 I love them so much

Haha the funny thing about Group 4 (that I absolutely love about them) is that they’re a pretty mixed circle of wild cards. They all contribute to chaos in some way whenever they’re together because that’s how they vibe. Like Karma technically is one of the most introverted, but he’s included in the chaos line. Likewise, Kanzaki has a much different energy than Nagisa and Okuda do. The only really “loud” one is Sugino, since Kayano’s real personality is a lot different. But since you asked for these separations in particular UwU, I’m happy to make hc’s for them! 💕

🪴🍄🌸 Quiet Side 🌸🍄🪴

Oooooh they have great dynamics tbh

Kanzaki and Okuda are total besties of course. They’re both more reserved and completely respect each other’s space, but they get along great. They can vibe well and bond over a ton of things, including healthcare/pharmacy.

Nagisa and Kanzaki are the “kind kids who rebel against their parents” duo. I like to think Kanzaki’s “crush” on him was out of admiration and surprise since boys don’t treat her well generally. Likewise Nagisa cares for her a lot.

Nagisa and Okuda are the lethal cuties. They are very caring towards each other. Usually Nagisa will be the tsukkomi to some of Okuda’s chemistry antics haha.

Overall this trio give off strong “looks like a cinnamon roll but can kill you” vibes, most with Nagisa and least with Okuda

They don’t get to talk often in class given the seating arrangement, but outside of school, I feel like they’d be a lot more open with each other.

Probably have mini study sessions at the library or a coffee shop maybe. All three of them getting hot chocolate of course

Kanzaki tries to teach them how to play some of her favorite video games, but Okuda quickly gets confused and Nagisa tries his best but...he’s only good with Sonic Ninja stuff lmao

The girls getting sugary snacks while Nagisa is like 😖 what about sushi?

💫🌈💥 Loud Side 💥🌈💫

Ok but this trio might just actually be my favorite in all of AssClass

The dynamics are I M M A C U L A T E

Karma and Sugino are the iconic sitcom duo of course. Their interactions are just hilarious, I love their friendship and how it progresses.

Sugino and Kayano....man I have feels about them. Just Sugino being such a positive influence on her life, and providing emotional support for her. And Kayano trusting him and always being there for him...SOBS

Kayano and Karma are one of my fav brotps. I think they could understand each other in ways no one else could. I think their bond is familial in a sense, that they find a home in each other.... SOBS MORE

Imagine the two guys always crashing at Kayano’s apartment to hang out, eat a million pudding cups, watch shitty dramas, and vent about their lives to each other.

Kayano tackling either of them if they dare mention her height

Karma shows up to all of Sugino’s baseball matches, always shouting in the loudest, most obnoxious way. Meanwhile Kayano is facepalming in second-hand embarrassment but still cheering Sugino on.

Sugino and Kayano are always begging Karma to make them a home-cooked meal since his food is always so amazing. He refuses every time

Honestly forget the sitcom duo, these three could be the lead stars of a whole ass show themselves. Like living together as roommates or smth

Sugino and Karma acting like protective big brothers whenever Kayano has to film a romance scene. She makes them promise to back off, but they sneak onto the set and threaten her co-star. What? They gotta put those assassin skills to use somehow, they claim.

#assclass #ansatsu kyoushitsu #assassination classsroom #group 4 #karma akabane #kaede kayano #nagisa shiota #yukiko kanzaki #manami okuda #tomohito sugino #I might have even more headcanons 😂#I just love group 4 so much hhhhh #they’re always on my mind somewhere

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ginwhitlock · 4 years

Photo

Shotgun

“An empty parking lot, a rusted out Chevy, & a cowboy. What could happen?”

oneshot

warnings: smut! 18+ only

I heard my underwear rip before I felt it. The cotton lying in shreds below the seat. The hand at my hip ten degrees colder than the metal shielding us from prying eyes.

My mind was cut short at the action, temporarily frozen at the bottom of my spine. My breath hitched. The halo of curls at the hollow of my throat shook at the action.

“Sugar, do you really want me to stop?”, Jasper drew out against my heated skin. His voice smooth like beaten gravel. The bravado in it forced my hips to buck up against his palm, searching for the challenge he implied.

The scene laid out before me was almost enough for me to shutter in his grip. The only skirt I owned, a plaid number that barely reached below my ass, was hiked up to my waist. My feet pushed up against the foggy passenger window. My truck, barely large enough to house his towering frame. The blond hovered menacingly over my body-- close enough to feel the chill of his from underneath his jacket.

His knees split my legs wide enough to run his knuckles over the, now bare, center of my heat. The band of his wedding ring dragging over my dripping folds.

“So doll? You want me to stop this? You want me to leave you here all alone?” One curved finger slowly pressed into my cunt. “Or do you want me to fuck you so deep and so hard this junker shakes, hm? It's your choice Darlin’.”

I could feel the temptation in his speech, the overflow of lust seeping into my chest from his subtle gift. His face angled up to rasp his teeth in the curve of my jaw. The sentences refused to form in my throat. The condensation on the glass only seemed to thicken.

His golden eyes, which had turned pitch black from the parking lot to the cab, skirted over the pale flesh of my covered breasts, over the rise of my collar bone, and up to the crease of my lips. He had taken his time earlier to raise the blood to the surface. My flesh turning beet red under his teeth. Jasper’s marble lips pressed into mine with a lost sense of delicateness. Another digit joined the one pumping in and out of my entrance.

Sucking in a much-needed breath I managed to mumble against his lips, “I want- I- want-”

His pace quickened.

My lips disconnected from his cold ones as I threw my head back, stopping my train of thought.

The blond’s fingers withdrew from my pulsing cunt. My face snapped up to his smirking one. I wanted to bite the grin off his lips. His canines lowered from his mouth.

A quip of his brow completed the look. “Oh now you better behave yourself missy. I asked you a question. Do you want me to fuck you,” His hand made a fist at my roots, “or not.”

His tone forced a squeak out of my chest. His eyes held no room for argument-- not that I wanted to.

“Yes, Jas-as-pe-r. I want yo-u.”

My hips started to grind down on nothing. His scarred hand clamped down on the boney curve, stopping my ministrations in its tracks.

“Say it.”

“I--”

“I said, say it little girl.”

My eyes flashed with a desire that scorched. The red hot path of venom swirling behind his eyes reflected in mine. He must have caught the emotion as it boiled over, as the hand holding my hair went to unbuckle his belt. His fingertips perched, waiting, over the worn leather.

My eyelashes fluttered as I whispered, “Fuck me Jasper.”

A growl ricocheted around the bare metal, fueling the knot in my stomach. Jasper’s belt unfastened in an inhuman flash, hanging off the belt loops of his jeans. With a shove, his pants and boxers were pulled down in sync. His rock-hard cock stood well in front of his hips.

Despite seeing it’s impressive girth before, my eyes went wide.

His grin stretched even farther across his beautiful face. The curls hanging around his chin reminded me of those old renaissance paintings. My personal angel. Or maybe, not quite an angel.

Both hands, shining with the soft crescents of bite marks decades old, grasped onto my hips in a steel grip. His own lowered to be level with my dripping center. Slowly he pushed in, inch by inch, pulling me deeper into the fire. I could feel the flames licking my shoulders, my palms, the hips he was digging into with vigor.

Fully seated, he pulled out almost completely. I could see in his face how he was savoring the feeling, the wet heat only I could provide. The crease between his arched brows deepened as he inhaled the cramped air-- his head almost touching the roof. His grip got even tighter.

As his eyes reopened he pushed back in further. A jolt ran down my spine at the motion. Jasper squared his hips, planting one foot on the floor of the cab. With a clench of his teeth, he started to set a pace no human could try to replicate. My breasts bouncing as he pounded into me. I could feel nothing but him, his emotions being pressed into my flesh. The world went babydoll soft in under his palms. My mind could only think of him: his onyx eyes gazing into mine, the scratch of denim around his arms.

As one pale hand slithered to my clit I could feel the haze of emotion start to cloud over. The sun and all its light was nothing compared to the man between my legs. He had brought lightning and I was useless to stop it. Wet circles came faster and faster as his pace started to falter.

The knot in the center of my hips started to tighten, wrapping itself in layers of electricity. With one certain flick of his knuckle-- my sight went white. His hand clamped down over my mouth as my ears rang.

His pace became frantic, fucking me through the tide. I could feel the stutter of his hips as my eyes snapped shut. With his cock shoved in the pit of my cunt, he bent to his elbows. His hand dropping from my mouth as he curled around me. The aftershocks worked through us in tandem. Jasper’s back rippling.

His face met mine in a tangle of tongues and whispered praise. My fragile wrists reaching up and cupping his cheeks.

I spared a glance at the place we were still connected. His cock pulsing inside in rolling waves. My hand trailed down his cotton T-shirt to his hips. Fingers wrapping around the shaft in a soft caress. His breath caught in his windpipe.

Slowly, he pulled out, my delicate fingers following its movement to the tip.

“God, darlin’ you’re gonna make me have to take you all over again if you keep up with that.” A lazy smile spread over his teeth. A blush rose to my cheeks as I realized my actions.

My hand returned to my side slowly, as if still recovering itself. His own replaced mine as he tucked himself back into his wranglers.

I went to shift forward and Jasper’s arm shot out to stop me. He tilted my chin to look in his eyes. Confusion bubbled up my throat.

Before I could ask, he answered my thoughts, “Don’t even think about going for those panties in your glovebox, I want you bare, you hear me?” The blond pulled my skirt back down and straightened my sweater.

“But I’ve got English after this Jazz, it’s not like I can hold it in.”

His ring finger, clad in silver, languidly ran through my folds.

“I want you drippin’ sweetheart. C’mon, you gonna be a whore for me darlin’? My little whore?”, he drawled out, soft and teasing.

A nod ran through my head before I could think any deeper about it. His words were soaked with something like comfort, and I wanted to drown in them.

One boot pushed open the passenger-side door as he scooped me up in his arms and set me on the asphalt. The parking lot was deserted as the bell had a few minutes to ring from lunch.

As the sun broke through the clouds I could see how the creases in the truck bench had allowed my sweat to collect in the bottom of my sweater. Before I could grumble about it, Jasper hooked his jacket over my shoulder and brought my arms into the sleeves. The denim was refreshingly cool to my heated flesh. The lapel, containing a clipped lining of wool, was bathed in his scent. Cinnamon and firewood, still burning.

The blond wrapped his left arm around my waist, curling his face into my scalp. His toothy smile could be felt all the way down to my sneakers.

Walking to Mr. Mason’s classroom only solidified how much Jasper had managed to load between my thighs. I could almost smell the spent arousal as it threatened to simper down my legs. I could’ve sworn I felt a chuckle vibrate through the chest pressed to my side.

Ushered to our own seats, our bodies separated in the small classroom. Forks had no need for more than twenty-five desks in a single room-- and still the space felt overcrowded.

As I sat, listening to the teacher explain the intricacies of Scout’s upbringing in To Kill a Mockingbird, I could start to make out the sticky pool creating a wet spot on the plastic. My face went white at the thought. Sneaking a hand under my skirt, I felt the unmistakable slip of cum dripping out of my cunt.

My head whipped around to the back corner of the white-walled box. There sat Jasper, wearing his favorite shit-eating grin. Fingers hanging out of his mouth.

#jasper/bella #jasper x bella #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #bella swan #twilight #twilight one shot #twilight oneshot #twilight fanfic #twilight fanfiction #thetwilightsaga #mine #my writing #writing #smut

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 4 years

Note

HI MAHM IM ACTUALLY SENDING A REAL REQUEST PROMPT INSTEAD OF SCREAMING VAGUE IDEAS AT YOU!!! LOVE U! I have constant nightmares and I’ve always had someone to cuddle with. Now, I realize we’re not on that level but you’re only one here and I’m really scared to go to sleep

(CHILD I HOPE YOU ARE HAPPY CUZ THIS GOT RIDICULOUSLY OUT OF HAND!!! I HAD TO GIVE A LEGIT TITLE AND SHIT BECAUSE IT GOT SO LONG UUUGGHHHH! haha! but thank you so much for sending it in i hope you like it!!!!

Ao3

Bright Smiles and Tired Eyes

Finding a roommate had been… moredifficult, than anticipated. Geralt wasn’t sure why he was surprised, peopledidn’t want to room with him for the same reasons no one wanted to give himwork. Witcher’s were… disliked, to say the least. Yennefer had helped him putan ad together, his had been… short winded. She’d worked her magic, no punintended, and wrote him an ad that was at least promising. She’d refused allhis grumblings about her just moving in with him, to help him out. She refusedto live with ex’s, even if they were still very good friends. The ad helped.His appearance and… profession, did not.

He’d met withseveral people already. At least ten, maybe more, he’d lost count and wasgetting tired. Tired of people coming into the small shop and sitting in frontof him, reeking of fear. Tired of people seeing him and turning right aroundagain to march out the door, not even giving him the curtesy of a ‘no thankyou’. Tired of being gawked at, and refused, and glared at. He’d been spit ononce and had put his fingers through the edge of the table, gripping ittightly, instead of putting his fist through their head. He liked the girl whoran this shop, she was nice, sweet, and she wasn’t afraid him. She was alsodating Yennefer and he didn’t want to get on, either, of their bad sides, bystarting, and finishing, a fight.

It had beenthree weeks, if he didn’t find a new tenant soon, he’d have to move, and thatwould just be worse, he’d never find another place that would give space to awitcher. He moved his finger in small circles on the table top, looking up whenhe heard the bell on the door chime. The man who walked through was… not human.Not entirely at least, there was a very strong other smell to him.Geralt couldn’t pin it down though, it was buried under the scent of hiscologne, and something else that smelled like… cinnamon. His hair was spikedinto a bright blue mohawk, tattoos were scattered across the skin that Geraltcould see, his flannel stopped at his elbows. There were piercings too, Geraltcould see them catching the light as he moved to the counter and ordered acoffee, something sickeningly sweet.

Geralt watchedRenfri make the order and hand it to the man with a smile. He nodded his thanksand then turned gracefully, his eyes, bright as fire in the night, scanned theroom. His shinning eyes landed on Geralt and he nodded, Geralt wasn’t sure ifhe was nodding at him or to himself so he sat still, his eyes going back to thetable top. He heard the man approach slowly.

“Geralt? Thatyou? From the ad?” his voice was like honey and Geralt’s stomach dropped. Helooked up at the man and nodded. He smiled down at him in return, and pointedat the seat across from Geralt, his eyebrows arched in question. Geralt noddedagain. He sat.

“So umm… I feellike I should maybe open with the fact that I’m not human. And uh… clearly,you’re… a witcher. So if me being… not human, isn’t okay for you, I can go. Ijust-“ his hands were fiddling nervously next to his coffee cup.

“I just wantedto be honest up front. And not just because I’m worried you’ll kill me.” Helaughed, awkwardly, cleared his throat, and took a very large swig of hiscoffee. Geralt watched him, watched his fingers wrap around the cup, his eyesmoving over the music notes tattooed across his knuckles. He let the man sethis coffee back down before he spoke.

“I’m not goingto kill you.” Geralt said, picking up his own cup, bringing it to his lips.

“Yet.” He saidand took a drink, trying not to smirk as the man squirmed in his seat beforesmiling softly, catching the joke. And that… was new. The man nodded, hismohawk not moving at all on his head, Geralt eyed it and then moved his eyesback to his face, he was wearing eyeliner, like those eyes needed any help standingout, and there were two lip rings shining against his bottom lip, more scatteredin his ears. Geralt watched him take another sip of his coffee and thought hesaw a tongue ring too as the man’s tongue ran quickly over his lip.

“So what areyou? If you don’t mind me asking.” Geralt laced his fingers together on thetable and watched the man in front of him. His cheeks reddened, and there wassomething in his eyes. Geralt thought it looked suspiciously like shame.

“Uh… A uh.. asiren. Well half of one, anyway. On my mother’s side. And I don’t- I don’t useit. The- the siren thing. It’s just- it’s just sort of there. I don’t use it onpeople, that would be…bad.” He finished lamely. His hands clasped together onthe table, tightly, the scent of shame pouring off of him in waves. He wasstaring at the table, and for the first time since he’d seen the man, the scentof fear hit Geralt’s senses. Geralt stared at him, looked at him for a verylong time, he knew that look, and he knew that smell. It wasn’t just fear. Orshame. It was both, dancing together across the man’s skin. He wasn’t afraid ofGeralt, not the way he probably should have been, he was afraid of Geralt’s reaction.No doubt trained to be frightened of it through past experiences. Geralt feltan odd urge to reach out and comfort the man, he frowned and shoved the urgedeep.

This man, whowasn’t just a man, was sitting in front of him, not afraid of the witcherin front of him, but afraid that the person in front of him, would hatehim. Hate him solely for what he was, despite not knowing him, just knowing whathe was. Geralt looked at him, and knew that feeling well.

“What’s you’rename?” The man’s eyes shot up from thetable, he stared at him, blue eyes shining. Geralt raised his eyebrows, andwaited.

“Ah! Um,Jaskier. I’m Jaskier.” He reached his hand out, clearly an instinct, his eyesflashing with worry immediately as his hand crossed into Geralt’s space. Geraltlowered his eyes to the hand extended to him, he watched it move back, thesmallest amount, an unsure movement that was, somehow, endearing. He moved hishand up and placed in the hand that was offered, the man, Jaskier, smiled athim, and they shook.

“Geralt.”Jaskier smiled again, dropping his hand back on the table, fingers tap out asmall rhythm.

“The room’syours if you want it.” Geralt knew this was probably a bad idea. And he knewmore, that Yennefer was going to yell at him, call him irresponsible, and, mostlikely, a great many other thing. But as sat here, looking across the table atthe shining blue eyes of this shame filled siren, he knew he’d let her call himwhatever she liked.

“Really? Are yousure? I mean, if you’re at all uncomfortable- I don’t want to impose oranything or- or get in your way. Or get you in… trouble. With the…witcher…people.” He narrowed his eyes, obviously knowing he sounded like anidiot as the words staggered out of his mouth. Geralt took a sip of coffee tohide his smirk, at least he knew he sounded ridiculous.

“The… Witcherpeople, will be fine. And I’m sure.” He slipped his fingers into his pocket andslid the small business card across the table.

“That’s theaddress, you can move in as soon as you want. Do you need any help?” He wasn’tsure why he’d asked that. He’d never offered his help to anyone before, well,to an extent. He’d offered to kill monsters, but never to help someone move. Hedidn’t even have a truck, or a car, no vehicle to help move anything. Hefurrowed his brow, mainly at himself.

“Oh no, I’malright. I don’t have much.” He slid his hand across the table top, pulling thecard to him, it disappeared from his fingers before Geralt’s eyes and he foundhimself wondering for the first time if Jaskier was maybe something other thanjust half a siren.

“But thank you.”His voice was soft. He drummed his fingers for a moment, filling the silencespreading between them, and then slowly stood up. He waved, took a couple stepsand then turned around again.

“Seriously thankyou. I’ve been looking for a place for ages. No one- no one seemed to want togive me a chance.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes glancing between thefloor and Geralt. Geralt nodded and felt his lips move into a small smile.

“I know thefeeling. See you soon Jaskier.” The man, Jaskier, smiled down at him, nodded,and turned to leave again. Geralt watched him go, watching the graceful way hewalked despite the clunky combat boots on his feet. Geralt couldn’t stop hiseyes moving slowly up the man’s back, the black skinny jeans hugging his legsand hips snuggly, there was red bandana peeking out from under the blue andback flannel that covered his ass and hung nicely on his broad shoulders. Hewatched Jaskier pull the door open, he spun on his heel, giving Geralt a smallwave. Geralt raised his hand in return and watched Jaskier disappear down thestreet. He looked back to his coffee, took a sip, and wished he’d asked forsomething with cinnamon.

“Well he seemednice.” Geralt jumped as Renfri threw herself into the seat Jaskier had leftempty. She stared him down, chin resting on her hands, a smile on her lips anda knowing look in her eyes.

“Shut upRenfri.” He grunted, pushing himself out of his seat and walking out the door.

~*~

He moves in twodays later. And he was right when he said he didn’t have much. He brought abed, a small dresser, one duffle bag of clothing, and two instruments. A guitarstrapped to his back, and a keyboard hung over his shoulder. Geralt helped himwith the bed and the dresser, the delivery men had just dropped them on thesidewalk. Jaskier had knocked on his door looking sheepish. Geralt brushed itoff and easily carried his things in for him, helping him set his room up theway he wanted it. The room was spacious, Geralt lived in a good-sized loft, andJaskier’s few items made it seem, achingly empty.

Geralt left himto his own devices after they got his things settled, letting Jaskier wanderaround the apartment, looking things over, his fingers drumming against histhigh, he was clearly forcing himself not to reach out and touch everything insight.

“You can touchthings if you want. It’s not a museum.” Geralt smirked when Jaskier jumped, butsmiled when the musician smiled at him and turned back to the bookshelf he waswalking by slowly, his hand immediately reaching out, fingers brushing overeach title gently, Geralt noted that his nails were painted black. The smilestayed on his face as he looked through the books.

“I didn’trealize I was moving into a library.” Jaskier called over his shoulder, hismohawk was green today, a dark emerald color, it only served to make his eyeseven more vibrant.

“You can readthem if you want. What’s mine is yours.” Geralt waved his hand toward thebookcase as he stepped into the kitchen, shoving his sleeves up his arms.

“Is that so?” hecould hear the insinuation laced in Jaskier’s voice and froze. He turned tolook at him, Jaskier was leaning against the bookcase, book open in his hands,one foot tucked over the other, his flannel was red today. He must have feltGeralt staring, he looked up from the book, eyes wide, inquisitive.

“What?” heasked, his face a mask of innocence. Geralt actually couldn’t tell, if it was amask or not.

“Nothing.Sorry.” He shook his head and continued into the kitchen, his shouldersrolling, trying to move the tension out.

“You hungry?” hecalled, opening the fridge.

“I could eat.” Hisvoice sounds, far away. Geralt glances past the fridge door and sees him stillstanding there, nose in the book, his eyes darting back and forth over thepage. Geralt starts grabbing things out the fridge, sets them on the counter.

“You likepasta?” he asks, watching him stand there and read.

“Hmm?” he hums,not listening at all. Geralt smiles then, really smiles, and turns to hide it.

“You can sit onthe couch you know? You don’t have stand.” Geralt grabs pots and pans andspoons and all the things he’ll need.

“What? Oh.Thanks yeah. Hey did you say something about pasta?” Jaskier’s voice getslouder as he walks toward the kitchen, he throws himself onto one of the stoolsat the island, Geralt glances back at him and he freezes.

“Am I gonna bein the way here?” he points at the marble island top where he’s set his bookdown. Geralt shakes his head and continues working.

“Do you… wanthelp?” Geralt can feel him leaning to the side, trying to see what Geralt’sdoing.

“You know how tomake pasta?”

“Well thatdepends.” He hears Jaskier flop the book over, keeping his place.

“On what?”Geralt turns then, leaning back against the counter, crossing his arms over hischest.

“Is it pastafrom a box? And sauce from a jar? Or is it like, pasta pasta? And homemadesauce?” Jaskier is smiling at him, not a bright smile, a soft smile, just tiltingthe corners of his lips a little.

“Which one canyou make?” Geralt asks, trying hard not to return the smile, his resolves slipsa little when Jaskier leans back on the barstool and grins.

“You lookat me, and tell me which one you think I can make.” He flattens his handover his chest, his palm covering the design of the band shirt he’s wearingunder his flannel. Geralt snorts.

“Box pasta. Allthe way.” He shakes his head and turns back to the counter, his cheeks burningat the look in Jaskier’s eyes.

“Wooow! Unbelievable.Ye of little faith!” his voice is full of drama, and humor, and happiness. Itmakes Geralt’s skin tingle. Without his permission he turns back to Jaskier,body moving on its own.

“So you can makereal pasta then?” Geralt looks at him, one eyebrow cocked high. Jaskier looksat him, smiling still, brightly this time, his tongue running over his bottomlip, teeth coming down to pull the lip between it, his lip rings making smallsounds against his teeth. He doesn’t hold the stare long before he’s snorting.

“Oh fuck no.Look at me. I’ve been eating SpaghettiOs out of a can for three months. Thebest thing I can make is grilled cheese.” He flips the book back over, thatmaddening smile still on his lips.

“But it isa mean grilled cheese. Add some tomato soup on the side and it’s a gourmet mealfor me.” He glances up at Geralt quickly and then back to the book, his smilefalling slowly as he gets pulled back in by the words on the pages in front ofhim. Geralt watches him, noticing the dark circles under his eyes for the firsttime. He has them hidden so well with his eyeliner that if you’re not lookingclosely you miss them. Geralt supposes that that is the point. He sighs andbegins cooking. Jaskier reading at the counter, the small noises of, him,a comfort in the normally silent apartment.

“I forgot tomention I was a musician. I hope that’s not a problem. I mean, I figured you’dhave said something earlier than now, like when you saw the guitar, but youalso sort of seem like the kind of person to not want to say much. Even if youreally really wanna say something. So I thought I’d bring it up incaseit’s an issue for you. But I do have headphones, so I won’t be like, having jamsessions or anything did you really make those noodles that’s insane, that youcan do that.” Geralt jumped at the sudden talking, and raised his eyebrows atthe sudden onslaught of words coming from the man behind him. He turned to lookat him and found the book he’d been reading closed and pushed to the side, hefelt his cheeks heat up at the thought that Jaskier had possibly been watchinghim for some time.

“Can you havejam sessions with an acoustic guitar and a keyboard?” Geralt smirked at him,Jaskier rested his chin on his hands and looked at him.

“I’ve had jamsessions with less.” He quirked an eyebrow at Geralt, challenging him.

“Hmm?” hehummed, crossing his arms over his chest again, the noodles boiling behind him.

“I have! I oncehad a session with nothing but a metal spoon, a bucket, and half a tambourine.”He dropped his hands onto the counter and smiled again. Geralt huffed, all thisguy did was fucking smile. And the worst part was, it was warm, and infectious,and fucking genuine.

“Half atambourine.” Geralt mused, turning away again, stirring the noodles and thesauce before walking to the pantry. He pulled out a loaf of bread and heardJaskier gasp.

“Are you aboutto make actual garlic bread with that fancy Aladdin bread right there?”his hands were flat on the island top now, slender fingers splayed out in frontof him. Geralt paused and looked at him.

“Aladdin bread?”he repeated back to him. Jaskier nodded excitedly, hopping off the barstool andwalking around to where Geralt was standing, moving into his space slowly andtaking the bread from him gently.

“Yeah! Aladdinbread, like in Aladdin, at the beginning when he’s stealing bread and running fromthe guards with Abu and it’s a perfect little loaf like this one?” Jaskier doesa twirl, spinning easily in the small space and brandishing the loaf of breadlike a sword, the end level with Geralt’s chest, the exact spot someone wouldshove a knife to strike his heart. Jaskier was still smiling, wiggling hiseyebrows at him. Cheeky. Geralt brough his hand up the bread, curling is fingersaround the loaf.

“Right. And, inthis situation.” Geralt stepped closer, pressing into Jaskier’s space the wayhe’d done to him. He watched Jaskier swallow roughly, eyes wide, nodding forGeralt to continue.

“Are youAladdin. Or the monkey?” his voice was dry, he pulled the bread from Jaskier’sgrip easily, poking him in the chest gently to guild him out of the way.Jaskier squawked, mock offence filling his voice as he held his hands up insurrender and backed away, letting Geralt push him out of his space. He settledon the barstool once more and continued to watch Geralt cook.

Geralt was usedto being stared at. People stared at him all the time. This was differentthough. This stare wasn’t… hateful. It was… curious. Jaskier watched him witheyes full of curiosity, tracking his movements like a cat tracking a birdthrough a window. Geralt could feel his gaze on his back, eyes moving over hisbody, and for the first time, in a long time, he didn’t feel threatened by it.Or objectified by it, though Jaskier was no doubt looking at him… in that way.Geralt could smell it on him, he could smell how… appreciative, Jaskier was. Herolled his shoulders as he began mixing the garlic for the bread and heardJaskier sigh behind him, a small thing, barely there.

He glanced overhis shoulder, the feel of Jaskier’s eyes on him gone now, and saw the man hadrested his head on his arms. Geralt knew he wasn’t sleeping, his heart beatingat a regular pace behind his ribs. Geralt lips twitched again and he shook hishead, finishing the garlic mix and brushing it onto the bread. He popped it inthe oven and waited, resting against the counter, and letting his eyes fall tothe musician half asleep on his island. His green mohawk was scrunched againsthis arm, his eyes moving behind his eyelids, fingers twitching where theyrested on his arm.

Geralt couldhear his heartbeat slowing as sleep tried to take him. His eyes moving fasterand faster behind his eye lids. Geralt was sure he was nearly asleep now, hisheart beating slower and slower. And then he flinched. His whole body jumpingas he sat up, blinking hard at the bright lights in the kitchen, Geralt turnedaway quickly. He watched Jaskier’s reflection in the window on the stove. Herubbed at his eyes and pulled the book closer to him, flipping through it untilhe found his place. He rested his chin in his palm and began reading, his tiredeyes moving slowly, blinking hard a few more times. Geralt felt a tug deep inhis chest, his fingers itching at his side, and then he jumped himself when thetimer on the oven began to ding.

~*~

Jaskier doesn’tsleep. At least he hasn’t. Not for the week he’s been around. Unless he sleepswhen Geralt is gone. Which is possible. But the dark circles under his eyes getdarker every day. And Geralt hasn’t known him that long, but he’s starting toworry. He lays down that night, barely sleeping himself most nights, and helistens.

He’d toldJaskier he wouldn’t be home until late. And then he’d gotten home early. He gotcleaned up, took a shower, peaked through the crack in Jaskier’s door and sawhim sitting at his keyboard, headphones draped over his neck, his fingersmoving nimbly over the keys. Geralt stared for a moment longer and headed tohis room. He threw himself onto his bed, his body tired, the job hadn’t beenterrible. Just chasing off a few rowdy young werewolves. They’d barely put up afight before running off back home. But the small fight had left him aching,getting throw into walls would do that. He laid in the dark, listening to thesmall sounds coming from across the hall.

And then Jaskierstarted singing.

He realized he’dmade a mistake immediately. The sound of Jaskier’s voice immediately making hishead fuzzy. He pushed himself out bed with a grunt. His feet stumbling beneathhim as the haunting voice filled the halls of their apartment. He used everyounce of energy inside himself to shove his body through his bedroom door. Hetook two steps and had to brace himself against the wall, his head wasswimming, his ears ringing, Jaskier’s voice filling his ears and pulling himunder. He made it another step before he fell, his body falling into Jaskier’sdoor and then slamming to the floor as the door swung open, hard, knocking intothe wall. Jaskier’s voice caught in his throat as he jumped out of his chairand stumbled backwards, hands flailing as he looked toward the door with wideeyes. Geralt laid on the floor, still unable to move his body properly.

“Oh fuck.Geralt! Shit no no no, you aren’t supposed to be home why are you hear?” hesounded panicked as he ran over to Geralt, falling to his knees next to him,his hands hovering just over Geralt’s body.

“Shit. Fuck I’mso sorry.” His voice was small. The cheer and happiness usually tinting hiswords was gone now, completely.

“Geralt. Fuck.”His hands finally settled on his own knees, moving up and down his thighs, theair around him was thick with worry.

“M’fineJaskier.” Geralt mumbled as best he could, his cheek pressed roughly againstthe floor.

“No. You’re not.Look at you. I- oh hang on!” his hands flailed again as pushed himself off thefloor, across the room in seconds, digging through his dresser for something.He made a small sound when he found it, and was back in front of Geralt inseconds. His slim fingers wrapped around something small and brown, both handsholding it, he brought it close to Geralt’s face and snapped it in half.Cinnamon filled his senses, his head cleared almost immediately. He grunted andpushed himself to his knees, noting how Jaskier scrambled backwards, movingaway from him.

“I’m- I should-I should leave.” Jaskier’s voice was shaky, barely even a whisper in the silentroom. Geralt picked up the broken pieces of the cinnamon stick Jaskier hadsnapped in front of him, holding them in his hand.

“Cinnamon.” Hesaid, maybe a little dumbly. He looks up at Jaskier then, and what he seesmakes his heart drop into his stomach. Jaskier had moved as far away from himas possible, his arms wrapped around himself, fingers digging into his ribswhere he clutched at himself. There were tears falling down his cheeks as hestared at the ground. He looked impossibly small. Geralt pushed himself to hisfeet.

“It’s okay Jas-“

“No it isn’t!”he almost screamed it, his voice rising louder than Geralt had ever heard it.Jaskier sunk to the floor. His arms pulling his knees close to his chest assobs fell from his mouth. Geralt crept closer, clenching his fists at his sidesas Jaskier hid his face against his knees. He crouched down next to him, hishand reaching out slowly to touch his shoulder. Jaskier flinched, but Geraltleft his hand there, refusing to move it.

“You didn’t doit on purpose.” He soothed, his thumb moving in small circles.

“It was anaccident.”

Jaskier snortedhumorlessly and looked up at Geralt, eyes full of self-loathing.

“It’s alwaysan accident.” He says, voice thick with, something.

“I can’t fuckingcontrol it. And I- I could have hurt you.” The tears fall down his face likerain on a window. He bites his lip and sniffles, pulling the sleeve of hisshirt down over his hand and wiping at nose.

“But you didn’t.I should have told you I was home. I saw you didn’t have your headphones on.”His hand moves off Jaskier’s shoulder as he stands, keeping himself pressedagainst the wall.

“You’re tryingto make this your fault?” Jaskier scoffs.

“It’s at least alittle my fault.” Geralt says, taking a few steps back, giving Jaskier someroom. He smiles at him then, trying to show Jaskier that he really doesn’tblame him. It wasn’t Jaskier’s fault. They had an agreement. The only timeJaskier would sing out loud was when Geralt wasn’t home. And he wasn’t supposedto be home. And he hadn’t let Jaskier know he was in the house. Sure, Jaskiershould have heard him, but he had been writing music, and Jaskier rarely hearsanything when he’s writing music, or listening to music, or playing music, andreading books. He gets lost in his head so easily. So yes, Geralt didn’t justthink it was his fault, he knew it was.

“I should havelet you know I was home. That was the deal. I broke it. It’s my fault.” Helooked at Jaskier pointedly, kept his eyes on him until Jaskier finally lookedup from the floor. His eyes shining with tears.

“It’s okay.Okay?” Jaskier pulled his lip between his teeth and nodded. Geralt nodded backand stepped further away. He watched Jaskier for a moment, watched his handsfinally fall to his sides, watched him all but collapse onto his bed, sittingon the edge picking a hole in the knee of his jeans. Geralt walked out to thekitchen and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. He peaked back intoJaskier’s room, he was laying on the bed now, arm draped over his eyes.

“Hey.” Geraltcalled quietly. Jaskier peeked at him from under his arm, Geralt tossed thebottle to him, he caught it easily.

“Thanks.” Wasall he got in return, Jaskier’s voice still small.

“Get some rest.”Geralt said, trying his best to smile again, and pulled the door closed. Hewatched the line of light under the door until it went dark and went back tohis room, hoping that Jaskier would actually get to sleep.

He’d just aboutdrifted off himself when heard the screams. He sat bolt upright, his handsfisting in front of him, ready for a fight. The screams stopped and he realizedit was Jaskier. Across the hall. Screaming in his sleep. He focused hishearing, reaching out in the dark. Jaskier’s heart was racing, Geralt couldhear him whimpering now. Another shout rang out through the dark and he heardJaskier flail in his bed, and then heard a thud as he fell out of it. He heardJaskier struggle to get untangled from his sheets, and then heard him pad downthe hall to the bathroom.

He heard Jaskierclimb into the shower, even heard him crying under the downpour of water. Helistened to him get dressed and then heard him pacing. He walked to Geralt’sdoor four times. Stopping in front it, pausing, and then going back to hisroom. His hand had even touched the doorknob at least twice. Geralt waited forhim to pace back, waited for him to stop in front if his door, and then calledout to him.

“Come in.”

He heard Jaskiergasp. But the door opened, Jaskier shuffled into the room, his pajamas hungloose on him, baggy pajama pants barely hanging onto his hips. He looked smallagain and Geralt wondered how he did that, went from looking as tall as Geralt,all broad shoulders and long legs, to looking like someone Geralt could put inhis pocket. He stood in the dim ray of light from the hall, rubbing at the backof his neck.

“Are youalright?” he asked, not moving from the bed, pushing Jaskier to says something,for fear that if he didn’t, Jaskier would just stand there all night, sayingnothing.

“N- no. No notreally. And um… I’m gonna ask you something. And it might sound odd. And youcan say no!” he hurried to add, his hands held out in front of him.

“Just ask.”Geralt grunted.

“Can I um… Can Isleep in here with you?” he asked, Geralt said nothing, sensing he was going tosay more, his own heart began beating loudly in his ears.

“It’s just that.I uh… I have these dreams. Well, they’re not dreams really. Nightmares. Iguess, is what they are. They’re nightmares. And uh,” he sighed, pushing hishand through his hair, Geralt just now noticing the his spiked up mohawk wassoft from his shower, he could a slight curl to his hair.

“I um… I usuallyhave… someone to… someone to sleep with. It- it helps. Having some one to- justhaving someone… to-“ he cut off, his eyes on the ground, Geralt could smell theembarrassment coming off him, he rubbed his hand over his face.

“To hold you?”Geralt prompted. Jaskier’s eyes snapped up from the floor, meeting Geralt’s inthe dark. He swallowed hard and nodded.

“It helps. Makesme feel safe.” He was worrying his pajama pants between his fingers.

“I know it’sweird. I just thought I’d ask, I didn’t mean to-“

“Come here.”Geralt waved him over, lying back on the bed, pulling the sheet up ininvitation. Jaskier swallowed hard and shuffled forward. He climbed in next toGeralt slowly, laying stiffly next to him. Geralt snorted and moved closer tohim.

“Getcomfortable.” He moved his fingers to Jaskier’s arm and felt him shiver at thetouch.

“You’re sure?Like really sure cuz I get a bit… clingy.” He pushed himself up onto his elbowand looked down at Geralt, the moonlight from the window shinning in his eyes.

“Cling away.”Geralt said, pushing a lock of hair from Jaskier’s forehead with his finger,pulling another shiver from him.

“Okay.” Jaskierbreathed, looking down at him, motionless, for a moment longer and thenlowering himself down, pressing himself against Geralt gently. His head layingon Geralt’s shoulder, his hand resting on his chest, settled above his heart.His legs pressed against Geralt’s, his foot twitching a bit. Geralt reached down,curled his fingers around Jaskier’s knee and pulled one of his legs over hisown so that it rested between them. He moved his hand up to settle on Jaskier’ship and felt him sigh, finally relaxing completely against him. The only partof him moving now was his fingers, tapping out a gentle rhythm on Geralt’schest.

“I hate it.”Jaskier whispered. Geralt moved the arm underneath Jaskier to hold hisshoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“I hate thatpart of me so much.” His breath was warm against Geralt’s chest, Geralt dug histeeth into his lip, wanting to comfort him, be he wanted Jaskier to get it out,whatever it was that he needed to say.

“And everyoneelse hates it too. As soon as people find out what I am. The look in theireyes, it changes, ya know? It twists, into this, look. Like they- likethey’re-“ Geralt can feel tears pooling against his chest, wet and warm. Hehears Jaskier choke back a sob and moved his hand into his still damp hair.

“Like they hateyou.” Geralt whispers, breathing the words into Jaskier’s hair. He feelsJaskier nod.

“They don’t evenknow me. I’m not… I’m not like that. I don’t like hurting people.” Hisfingers curl into Geralt’s shirt, clutching at it tightly.

“I know.”

“How can youknow that? We just met. And you’ve seen it. You’ve felt it. What I cando.” He flattens Geralt’s shirt back out, pressing his fingers down againsthim, pressing out the wrinkles he’d created.

“Jaskier. If youwanted to hurt people, you’d be hurting people. And I’m not sure anyone couldstop you.” He moved his fingers to Jaskier’s chin, tilting his head up, makinghim look at him.

“I don’t thinkeven I could stop you. If you really wanted to, I think you could bring thisworld to it’s knees with that voice of yours.” He moved his fingertips over Jaskier’slips, feeling him gasp against them.

“But youhaven’t. And you won’t.” He moved his hand to cup Jaskier’s cheek.

“There’s toomuch kindness in you.” He presses his lips to Jaskier’s forehead and then looksdown at him again.

“It shines inyour eyes every time you smile. And you fucking smile, all, the time.” Geraltsighs, frustration lacing his voice. Jaskier snorts, his body shaking againstGeralt’s. Jaskier pressed closer, his body moving into Geralt’s like it wasmade to be there, his arm snaking around Geralt and pulling him closer.

“Should I stopsmiling? Sounds like it bothers you.” His voice was heavy with sleep now, theheartbeat pressing into Geralt’s side slowing. Jaskier snuggled his head harderinto Geralt’s shoulder.

“Don’t ever stopsmiling.” Geralt breathed into his hair. He felt Jaskier smile into his chestand moved his fingers slowly along his scalp, listening to his heartbeat andbreathing slow as he finally drifted off to sleep. Geralt pulled him closer,holding him tightly in the dark, and let his eyes fall closed. He pressed hisnose into Jaskier’s hair and hoped he could at least bring him some peace.

#geraskier #geraskier fic #geraskier prompt #geraskier request #prompts #requests #prompt #request #my writing #geralt x jaskier #tinyboop #thank you for asking love

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boasamishipper · 4 years

Note

all the top gun Kids™️

i have decided to answer this for all of my top gun faves, i apologize in advance if this is not what you meant lol

maverick mitchell

listen you already know i love maverick mitchell but i Really Really Love Maverick Mitchell with all my heart and i HATE that people refuse to see him for the three-dimensional character that he is (and that tom played him as). he’s determined and confident and has every right to be, he’s a badass pilot, but i love his character arc about learning how to be a team player. i LOVE his relationship with goose and carole and baby!bradley (and ice, in any capacity) and i am so ready for said relationships to Destroy me in the sequel. (also when mav is Sad i am Sad, and it looks like he has had even more to be sad about btwn tg1 and tg2. what happened to you mav. what did they do to you. mcq if u do not give this man a happy ending a hug and some therapy i swear to GOD-)

iceman kazansky

the fact that ice is as much of an ensemble darkhorse / breakout character has everything to do with val kilmer (whom i also love) being a fantastic actor, bc lets be real the script did not give him a lot to work with here. i love his hair and his face and his very pretty eyes (whose color i can STILL not discern after many rewatches) and his absolutely warranted confidence in himself (and as a pilot). i love that he isn’t afraid to call mav out for being unsafe (srsly, he is the Only Sane Man in this entire movie) but appreciates mav’s outside the box / ‘dangerous’ thinking as his wingman. he’s got a big heart (as evidenced by the 'i’m sorry about goose’ scene) behind those ice cold walls, and i cannot WAIT to see how his relationship with mav has grown by the time the sequel is finally released. give me respected admiral iceman kazansky or give me death. if they kill ice off i AM disowning canon mcq, do you hear me.

goose bradshaw

i love goose SO FUCKING MUCH, every bit of him, from the not-at-all-regulation mustache to the bad jokes to the country-fried southern vibe to the singing and piano-playing to how much he respects and cares about mav (and how much mav respects and cares about him in return). his relationship with carole is my favorite thing on this entire earth, followed closely by his relationship with mav and also his relationship with ice. (like ice really respects goose and vice versa, and they clearly knew each other pre-canon, and one of the few times ice smiles genuinely in the movie is at goose - i really wish canon gave us more goose&ice, there’s so much to analyze there.) his death scene makes me tear up every time.

carole bradshaw

carole is the BEST. actual ray of sunshine in human form and also a fashion icon. i adore her optimism and kindness, even in literally the worst times, and i especially love how much she adores goose and mav. forever bitter that they didn’t recast meg ryan to play her in the sequel though i’m sure jean louisa kelly will do a good job bringing carole to the big screen. (NOT a fan of the fact that it looks like she and mav and bradley by extension haven’t spoken in a long time and i Demand an explanation, even if it’s angsty.)

bradley bradshaw / rooster

last we saw bradley he was a little kid who clearly worshipped his dad and by the time the top gun 2 trailer rolled around, he’s the spitting image of his father, serious and determined to make a name for himself (with possible authority issues like young!mav, given he’s still a lieutenant in his late thirties). i am very excited to meet him, and i’m also super excited to see his relationships with phoenix and the other pilots, and with jean louisa kelly’s carole bradshaw. (if bradley is playing great balls of fire on the piano in that one clip in the trailer i am going to just. straight up drop dead.)

speaking of the trailers it’s clear bradley holds a serious grudge towards mav - “my dad believed in you, i’m not gonna make the same mistake” GOD. what happened btwn mav and bradley? what happened to their relationship?? (who taught him to blame mav for his dad’s death bc i hope to god it wasn’t carole - i’m leaning toward jon hamm’s character bc he seems like an asshole who does not like mav, or maybe even mav just refusing to correct bradley’s assumption bc he blames himself too.) anyway, PLEASE tell me bradley realizes he’s being an asshole by blaming mav for his dad’s death and works on repairing their relationship (and works through his own grief as well).

phoenix

one of the people i am most excited to meet in the sequel! i don’t know anything about her besides the info from a 2017 casting call describing her as a “fierce pilot, gifted leader, kind of a loner, eager to prove herself, who falls for bradley aka rooster,” but that is enough to make me Very Excited to meet her - ESPECIALLY if the bradley/phoenix is going to be set up like icemav, which i have a strong suspicion it’s going to be, complete with height difference. (phoenix: *does anything*, bradley: top me top me top me.) also, a potential mav&phoenix father/daughter relationship????? Sign Me The Fuck Up. this movie is just going to end with me in tears and with custody of seven or eight new children.

fritz

listen apparently he is just a cryptid because we only know his name and i THOUGHT he was gonna be a main character since he was one of the first to get named, but we have only seen him on the periphery of some scenes in the trailers, even after all this time, so now i kinda doubt it. but he is played by the gorgeous manny jacinto and he and bradley sat near each other once so i am assuming they are friends in some way, and also my headcanon of him as amy santiago trapped in the body of jason mendoza has made me love him very much. pls don’t kill him, canon. also pls @ manny and mcq and kosinski give me SOMETHING to work with here lmao.

hangman

look. i know mcq and co are probably going to set up hangman vs rooster to be like mav vs ice, enemies/rivals to friends, but honestly, i’m not all that here for it??? i do like that from his callsign alone, hangman is probably going to be a darker version of ice (less kind, more focused on the job, maybe more like charlie than like ice if that makes any sense at all) and his rivalry with bradley is already clearly a lot more heated than mav’s ever was with ice. anyway, glen powell is an excellent actor, so let’s hope he makes hangman a 3d character in his own right and not just an iceman expy.

payback, fanboy, and bob

i’m already lowkey shipping payback/fanboy and i love bob for looking like a dorky 21st century radar o’reilly, but honestly, not super on the edge of my seat to meet these guys. i do want to know whose WSO bob is - my guess is phoenix’s since they were sitting next to each other at one point, but he could also be hangman’s - and my worry is that since he’s the only named WSO right now, they could very well Pull A Goose and kill him off in a training accident. (i hope not since i don’t want a complete canon redux, but it would definitely be angsty.)

put a fictional character in my ask box and i’ll rate them accordingly

#thanks for asking!#top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun 2 #top gun maverick #rochc93 #i'm so sorry for the length of this response lmao #apparently i have way too many feelings about my faves

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secret-engima · 4 years

Note

Like,, I know u only know the fma and undertale fandom through absorption but like imagine, Edward Elric and Alphonse are the ones to fall down the hole instead of Frisk. Or, them having the save point/resets powers. Ed is Determination Personified u can't convince me otherwise. This Kid got trapped in a mine shaft with a pole through his stomach and was like,, yeah, I need u to pull it out and I'll heal myself with Experimental Powers and, with a hole in his back, fucked off to beat Up kimblee.

That would be terrifying and amazing holy cow. Imagine, also, if their Undertale adventure happened BEFORE the main plot of FMA. Like- when they did the Forbidden Alchemy and Truth yote them through his gate, something went sideways and wrong because of Ed’s sheer levels up Stubborn and so they both wound up IN the underground. Al with his body and Ed with … most of his? I still kinda want him to be missing that initial arm. Just cause.

Anyway cue Toriel finding the possibly covered in blood and crying children and her rushing to heal them and stuff and Al and Ed going on a grand Undertale adventure and TOTALLY doing at least two runs (neutral and then pure pacifist to make it right), Ed learning to abuse the HECK out of the save point system and determination over alchemy while Al … honestly I want Al to learn monster magic. Like- he and Ed obviously find a way to save the day but like- they totally figure out a way to use monster magic. Perhaps in a slightly more alchemic way but STILL something that isn’t “in the norm or rules” of basic alchemy.

Also also if I REALLY super wanted to AU this then it would JUST be Ed who falls into the underground and his brother Al isn’t his original little brother at all (he would be an only child in this au) but would be ASRIEL who Ed un-flowey-ed and turned into a human by like- using alchemy to build an inert human body (because that doesn’t break the Laws of Alchemy) and then using his own Determination to help build/stabilize Asriel’s soul and stuff it in there so boom. New bby brother he is monstrously overprotective of after they get back to his world which is like-a separate dimension from the Undertale dimension.

…. you know what that is amazingly interesting.

DARNIT I HAVE A NEW AU.

-Ed loses the only person in his life he loves and he is smart and desperate and has no sibling to even moderately hold him back. He studies under Teacher and he plans and then he-

-Makes the biggest mistake of his life.

-And he is going to lose everything for it, he KNOWS this down to his Soul as the thing called Truth laughs at his hubris and the gates yawn wide. But just before it can take him, just before it can UNMAKE him he-

-Refuses.

-His Determination burns and

-He

-Falls

-He wakes up, sobbing and in pain, the stump that was once his arm pounding with his heart. There is a face over his, a face that isn’t human, but he has no time to be afraid because the blackness takes him.

-He wakes up in an unfamiliar bed that smells like cinnamon, with a bandaged arm and the monster he will soon know to be Toriel sleepingly fitfully in an armchair by his bedside.

-He doesn’t take it well. He is a hot-tempered child prone to violence, he is a grieving child who does not take boundaries well. But … he is still a child, and he is hurt and grieving and scared. He spends months in Toriel’s care and he … loves her.

-He discovers save points day they fight in the basement and he screams-screams-screams with her dust on his hands.

-(there are two ways this AU might go at this point, one is that Ed snaps and goes on a Genocide run until he meets Sans in the Hall of Judgement(? I think that’s what it’s called) and there Ed has a change of heart and performs a True Reset, OR he just reloads the save point from before his fight with Toriel without leaving the ruins at all. Because I’m an Angst Lover™, my personal HC is the first option).

-Toriel can never get him to tell her why he sometimes stumbles into her room in the night and sobs apologies into her nightshirt, clutching at her with his one hand.

-His run after that is a True Pacifist run (yes yes I’ve read that has to be the second run after a Neutral but this is AU). He’s already got the blood of one mother (one run, one world) on his hands, he refuses to add anyone else’s). He meets the monsters of the Underground, and he is awed by their magic just as they are awed by his alchemy, and Alphys makes him a shiny new arm to replace his old one after they figure out that he CAN learn monster magic for some reason (the Gate, blame the Gate, humans in this world don’t have a Gate).

-And he learns things, and befriends people and sometimes he watches Sans and Papyrus and feels an ache that isn’t his arm and wonders why he feels like something is Missing™, like that should be a mirror of him and another when he is an only child. But he loves the brothers anyway, and he treats Papyrus like his hero, because he remembers this skeleton who was so very very SURE he could be a good person if he just TRIED, and he gives Undyne water because she may be scary and angry but she’s also kind of cool and he wants to be friends.

-But sometimes fighting is inevitable, no matter how much he refuses to kill and so when everything unravels and Flowey becomes his adult Asriel form … Ed fights. He fights and fights.

-But he does not kill

-He choses Mercy.

-And in the end, when Asriel insists he cannot rejoin the monsters as himself, Ed, being the stubborn genius he is, says, “Then be my brother.”

-And there among the flowers, using materials scavenged from the Underground and supplemented with magic, Ed makes an empty shell that looks a bit like him, but not quite. Younger. Gentler. He fuses magic and alchemy and pure unrelenting Determination to give this boy a second chance just like he was given one and…

-And the boy in the flowers opens his bright gold eyes.

-He wiggles his fingers in awe and Ed laughs until he cries.

-“What should my name be?” The boy (Ed’s little brother) asks shyly, “I don’t … think Asriel OR Flowey fit me anymore.”

-“How about Alphonse?” Ed asks, the name sitting easy on his tongue, “It’s a name from a book I read in the aboveground. I can call you Al!” And the boy named Alphonse smiles shyly and hand in hand they stumble up the path to the door that leads to the outdoors, to freedom and light and life-.

-They step over the threshold and the world crumbles.

-The Underground was magic, and magic had kept Truth from finding the wayward Edward, but once they were outside-.

-They tumble back through the gates on a burst of magic so strong Truth cannot stop them and steal anything more.

-They wake up on the bloodstained floor of Ed’s old family home.

-Winry’s grandmother (I forget her name atm) finds them when she comes to check on Ed, having seen the brilliant flash of light that came from the transmutation circle. She comes to … conclusions … when she sees Ed huddled there with a boy who looks like him but Not clutched in his arms, one arm now METAL like automail and an older haunted look in his eyes as he stares at her like he hasn’t seen her in a long, long time.

-She doesn’t ask. She just takes them home. When Winry asks who the other boy is, Ed says “That’s Alphonse. He’s my brother.” And something in his tone brooks no argument.

-It’s a small town, but the Elrics have always been Odd, so no one really questions it when Winry’s grandmother says that the boy’s father showed up late one night and dropped off a child from another woman (even Winry is told this story, though she … has suspicions as she grows older). Ed’s arm is explained as an alchemy accident, and if the “automail” that is a foreign design and strange makeup well … the Rockbells are eccentric mechanical geniuses. It’s probably just a new design.

-Roy Mustang knows none of these things when he comes looking for a genius alchemist. He finds the bloody circle like in canon, he talks to Ed about the military.

-Ed quietly tells him no.

-Funnily enough, the world still has a happy ending. Because Alphonse has never been aboveground save that one tragic time and he is curious about the world, so Ed and Al take to traveling, doing odd jobs with Alchemy to get by, and this somehow leads them getting dragged into the plot and probably Ed still joining the military just to get nosy people off his back.

-But the Homonculus are going to get a NASTY shock when they try their plot, because Ed and Al have already seen the end of that Run and they are not going to do it again and for all Alchemy is a known factor that Father can control.

-Magic and Determination?

-Not. So. Much.

#SE asks #oliverslewty asks #Secret Engima Rambles #NEW AU #aaaaaaaaa #Anthem for the Homesick verse

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space-cadet-magic · 5 years

Text

Tag Yourself: Appletini Assembly Edition

have a no context introduction to our dnd group

Ashyew - Fortnite dancing unironically; campfire smell; knows obscure facts about trees; those wood wick candles that crackle when they burn; not hearing your name the first time someone says it; “I wanna steal,” Over the Garden Wall; not having a favorite cryptid because you love them all so much; “Harold, that was my favorite arm,” Where the Wild Things Are; making up fun alternate universes you’d travel to with your siblings; “This sign won’t stop me because I can’t read;” doesn’t care what you’re fighting, will fight alongside you until she falls; lovingly makes fun of you to your face, beats up your bullies behind your back; “I can play guitar, but I only know Wonderwall;” loves you deeply but will take embarrassing pics of you while you’re passed out drunk; can french braid hair, refuses to braid yours; light filtering through aspen trees.

Hal - “But your honor, I’m baby;” addicted to brookside chocolates; smells like beachy hair; always has a snack on hand; “please god, let me have one good day?” “you again? give it a rest buddy;” “Hi, i’m hal, and i’m addicted to citrus fruits;” calls her friends to say i love you; does not differentiate between costume parties and fancy dress parties - will wear a spiderman costume to both; drinks dumb fuck juice and dumb fuck juice EXCLUSIVELY; useless lesbian; “dad pick me up there’s kids here funnier than me;” wants to be a rebel, latches onto authority figures around her; “daddy?” “DO I LOOK LIKE-;” has a diary, but it is NOT coherent; makes friends fast but loses them in the middle of her rock collection presentation; watches chopped and laughs when people she doesn’t like gets eliminated;

Krol - Socks with sandals; dancing like commander sheppard; can’t figure out how to email a standard word document; encyclopedic knowledge of world history; only drinks alcohol that tastes like fruit juice; human embodiment of a maraschino cherry (has potential for greatness with a dark past); your dad buying you frozen yogurt when you’re sad; the smell of your dad’s old sweaters when you pull them down from the attic; “I may be dumb but i’m not stupid;” big adoptive dad energy; “Don’t talk to me or my son or my son or my son or my son ever again;” buys 150 boxes of scout cookies so their favorite kid wins the contest in their troop; “big dreams” include a three-wheeler motorcycle; proud fold-up bike owner; “CHRIS, IS THAT A WEED?”

Morana - “Be gay, do crimes;” that image of the little girl smiling in front of the burning house; smells like lavender and leather; living embodiment of a really hot motorcycle; can kick your ass and will do so upon request; has a designated snack drawer in her desk; always has bandaids; touch starved but scared to hug you; that kid who had a crush on a girl in her class so she sent her a note saying “get out of my school;” women in suits; “but does she REALLY like me?” as she walks down the aisle; is too hot in her jacket but won’t take it off bc it’s part of the look; sneaks bacon off your plate at brunch; “we held hands, so we’re basically married, right?”; “i have a proposal-PROPOSITION;” booty shorts that say “enemy of the state” across the butt; reads romance novels under the covers at night w/ a flashlight; “what do you have?” “a KNIFE!” “NO;” little spoon; trinket collector; all the metal in her outfit has to match.

Ptah - No poker face; “I WON’T HESITATE, BITCH;” “Ptah found dead in Kalmar,” “is he okay?” “yeah but he died;” wears sunglasses indoors; wears flannels unbuttoned but tucked in; does interpretive dance to rap metal; loses their shit at the drop in “Hall of the Mountain King;” your roommate who is weirdly good at home repair; burns everything they cooks; can drink their own bodyweight in ale; big laugh, bigger trauma; “pick three words to describe yourself,” “hmmmmm…killer alien vagina;” has not paid for music since 2002; might be the blurry bigfoot in every photo; “Can i have a piggy back ride?” grumbles but actually hyped as fuck to give you a piggy back ride; ripped as hell but wouldn’t want to kill a spider; “i’m may be doomed,” “but?” “no, no but;” when you jokingly hip check you they launch you out of orbit; eats the whole cheese plate alone; will always go get the extra ketchup when you’re nervous to ask; doesn’t let the customer service person bully you; if they’ve been on hold w/ a company helpline for too long they will physically manifest in the head office.

Zeph - The gif of the guy peace-signing into disappearance; “Do not address me directly;” “STOOOOPPP I could have dropped my croissant;” the way cold water tastes right after you brush your teeth; “Clouds” by BORNS; tries to learn fortnite dances but can’t do them (is lovable and wonderful anyway); can peel oranges in one piece; *surprised pikachu*; has, can, and will slap a bitch into next week; astral projects to avoid confrontation; can’t do it alone but WILL NOT ask for help; annoyed when you ask to share the cinnamon roll at brunch but saves the best bit for you; takes the shitty fruit in fruit salad so other people can have the good ones; “I love you” “what?” “I said i hate you please don’t look at me;” smells like a linen and sky candle; perfectly ventilated cuddle sessions; big and powerful “I woke up like this” queen; “I’m cold,” “damn jackie, I can’t control the weather;” not the taller person but always the one to get stuff off the top shelf; kisses u goodnight on ur forehead when you’re asleep.

@captainofthefallen @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels @devilishlyoperatic

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ericahitshawaii · 4 years

Text

From the land

Today I am leaving the ocean and heading to the land. The Big Island is even more biodiverse than Maui. It contains 11 of the 14 climate zones in the world. They even have snow on their tallest peak, Mauna Kea. Today I am heading south og Kona to explore a Chocolate Farm, a coffee farm and a bee apiary!

Chocolate Farm

The Original Hawaiian Chocolate factory is the only chocolate producer in an industrialized country that processes the chocolate from the plant all the way to the final product. Most chocolate producers start with the dried cocoa bean. The beautiful estate grows cacao (the pod that chocolate is made from), macadamia nuts and coffee. The entire operation is run by only eight staff, including the owner (Bob) and his wife. (American Ex-pats)

Above are the tree that the cacao pods grow on. They are about the size of a large eggplant when fully ripe. Iniside these pods there is a fibrous membrane (like in a squash) that contains seeds. These seeds have to be fermented and dried to give them the chocolate flavor. This produces chocolate nibs which are ground to make cocoa powder, which becomes chocolate. (More or less, you can google it if you want to fact check me on this one.)

Cacao pods growing in the trees. This variety will will turn a bright yellow when they are ripe.

Ripe cacao pods. They grow in a variety of colors. For example green pods turn yellow when ripe, maroon pods turn candy apple red when ripe. Other colors include purple, orange and rainbow!

These are the seeds (or cocoa beans) inside of the pod. They are covered with a bitter coating that will help ferment the seeds.

After they have fermented, they are cleaned off and left outside to dry on these racks.

Cocoa beans on the drying rack. These will be ground to make the cocoa powder used to make chocolate! This chocolate farm only makes milk and dark chocolate.

Fun fact: White chocolate is not actually made from the solid bean, it is made from cocoa butter, which is extracted from the bean. Since there are no cocoa butter extractors on the island, they are limited to milk and dark chocolate only.

It was really interesting to see this done as a small operation, given the extremely unjust conditions that many cacao growers face in developing countries. At least one aspect of eating chocolate was guilt-free today! m On to cofee next!

Coffee Farm

There is a oot of coffee grown in Hawaii so I had lots of options for a coffee tour. No one will be surprised to hear that I chose the Kona Historic Socity’s Living History coffee farm!! YEA! The nerdiest of an already nerd activity!

So...the Kona Historical Society has preserved one of the early coffee farms on the island that was run by a Japanese family. It was purchased by the Ushida family in 1913. The Ushida’s had immigrated from Japans and decided to take up farming. However, they had no experience farming coffee when they bought the coffee farm in 1913. The spent the next few years learning from local farmers how to grow it. This was the beginning of what we know know as the Kona coffee industry, which was led mostly by Japanese immigrants. The Ushida’s were one of the first Japanese families to do it and encouraged and inspired many other to take up the trade throughout the 20th century.

Fun fact: In the 1940s 50% of people living in Hawaii were Japanese.

The Ushida’s tore down the small farmhouse that was on the property when they purchased it and built a traditional Japanese home. The Ushida’s had 5 children, who all shared a three room house (a iving area, bedroom and kitchen).

The Ushida farmhouse, built circa 1917.

To be totally honest, I had absolutely no idea how coffee grew. I knew it came from beans, but that was about it. Well...it grows on trees. Coffee trees can live and produce coffee for hundreds of years, in fact. Coffee beans actually form inside of these cmall round berries. (They sort of look like cranberries.) They are green when unripe and turn a bright red color when ripe. Inside each berry is a small amount of flesh (similar to grapes) and in the center is a coffee bean. In order to make coffee, the berries have to be picked, the skin and flesh need to be removed, the beans need to be dried and then they can be roasted. Coffee beans are harvested 4 months out the year from September - December.

Coffe tree. The base of this tree is over 100 years old. The branches are trimmed every few years, but the base and root systems can remain for hundreds of years.

Coffee berries. These are small because the are yound. They are about cranberry sized. The will grow to be closer to grape size when it is time to harvest next September.

The Ushida’s also grew other plants for subsistence farming and to sell at local markets. Although the weather in Hawaii is perfect for growing almost anything, it can sometime be difficult to farm because of the lava rock that covers most of the land. Plants that do very well in Hawaii have extremely strong root systems that can actually break through the rock or grow within cracks a crevasses in the rock. (Like coffee, cacao and pineapple).

It’s a baby pineapple! It’s one of the only plants, where if you plant any part of the pineapple it is capable of growing a new one.

This may look like a cucumber, but it is actually a plant that grows bath loofahs. Yep, for real.

See!?! I didn’t make this up.

During the 4 month harvesting season, the Ushida men would wake up at 2:30 to start harvesting and finish after sunset. The women would wake up at 4:30am. The entire family, including small chilren, would harvest the beans. The most difficult part of the process was removing the skin and flesh from the beans. It is only since WWII that most farmers had a mechanized process to do it. For centuries it was done by stomping on them with your feet. Like grapes.

Once the beans are removed from the berries, they need to be dried, which can take up to 10 days. The Ushida’s would leave them out in the sun to dry and bring them into the shed when it rained and at night. At any given time there would be over 1000 pounds of beans drying. (On average, an adult could pick 150 lbs. a day). In the 1940 the Ushida’s developed a brillant idea to create a drying platform on the top of the barn/shed that had a sliding roof, so that they could cover the beans at night or during rain and not have to carry the beans in. Genius. This is the original roof and the sliding mechanism still works perfectly!

Kona coffee is still an institution in Hawaii. Descendants of the Ushida family lived in the original house until 1994. (They never modernized the house, it still had a wood burning stove and outhouse/outdoor bath house) The historical society bought it and preserved it. It is still a working farm today.

Lunch

L&L Barbeque is Hawaiian fast food institution. I stopped here for lunch and was not disappointed. Many of the things on the menu reflect the Asian and Japanese heritage of the island. I ordered the chicken lovers platter, BBQ chicken, Chicken katsu and...something else delicious.

Chicken Lovers Plate

Bees

My last stop for the day was Big Island Bees. A bee apiary.

Big Island Bees, Kona

I have always been obsessed with bees (and colony animals in general, like ants) so I was SO EXCITED about this. I have probably told many of you this, but the U of M refused to let me volunteer at their bee lab and I am still really bitter about it.

Kim, the master Bee keeper, gave us free samples and showed us the hives. They have several sites across the island that produce different kinds of honey. There are two ways to get flavored honey. One is to infuse a flavor into already created honey, like pepper or cinnamon. The other is to place the hives in a area where they have access to only one or prodominantly one kind of flower. Their bees make three kinds of honey. One from Macadamia Nut trees, one from the Wilelaiki blossom on theChristmasberry tree (introduced in Hawaii from Brazil) and the rareist type, the Lahua blossom honey, which comes from the Ohi’a trees. Ohi’a trees are found only on Hawaii and grow out of lava rock. The honey is naturally white. (Apparently you can buy Big Island Honey at costco!)

So I learned a lot of cool stuff about bees. I could write for hours about it, but I’m just going to give you my favorite fun facts. If you want to know more, let’s hang out!

Fun fact 1: Queens can live for 1-5 years, where as the rest of the bees in the hive only live 4-8 weeks.

Fun fact2: All of the worker bees in the hive are female. The only male bees in the hive are called Drones. Their only job is to mate with the Queen, so when the food is scarce or the hive is in trouble, the female workers bees evict the Drones by biting off their wings, pushing them out of the hive and leaving them on the ground to die. Sorry fellas, they don’t have time for freeloaders! I love bees!

Fun fact 3:The worker bees go through four different jobs in their short lives 1) Take care and feed of the baby bees, which hatch in the cells in the hive, feed and take care of the queen, protect the hive, and forage for pollen.

Fun fact 4: Bees are super ruthless, if the queen is not doing so hot, the hive releases special pharamones (sp?) so that the queen will give birth to her own replacement and then they will kill the queen once she’s born. Total mutiny.

Not so fun fact 5: Bees are in trouble because of a small hive mite that has starting taking over the hives, laying eggs in the cells and eventually forcing the bees out of the hive. Hives have to be checked and treated regularly to keep from being infested by these small invasive beetles from Asia. Boo!

Beekeeper Lisa

One hive. It contains both the cells for honey and for making baby bees. This hive has no drones, because it is a slow honey producer, so they opted to kill all of the drones until they have more honey.

The queen is in here somewhere..

Lastly, bees can make art. Their so cool and talented. I am ecited because my goal for this spring and summer is to plant a pollinator friendly yard. I applied for a grant to do, I will know shortly if I got it. My eventual goal would be to have a hive in my yard, but it is really hard to overwinter bees in Minnesota, so I might have to work up to this. Future goals...

Honeycomb sculpture (Real honeycomb that the bees constructed over a metal frame)

That’s it for the day. Tomorrow: Travel along the southern coast of the island to visit the Place of Refuge National Historic Park and one of only 4 green sand beaches in the world.

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ficsrus · 5 years

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fic recs: bts

this one’s a bit lengthy folks. have fun reading. make sure to give kudos and comments and lots of love to the authors!

namjin—

*prudence in the face of adversity: rated E, 7k

“But we’re not a girl group, hyung, there’s like…” Namjoon waves his hands in the air as he explains, “identity issues and gender issues and how are we supposed to dance with b—our bodies in this condition,” he finishes weakly. “And we can’t do publicity like this, or rehearse, and I don’t want to call the president and Seokjin-hyung is bleeding and I don’t know how to pick these things out from the store so could Hobi and I please just take a bit of money to the store to get things for Jin-hyung because he’s crying…”

[In which the entirety of Bangtan wakes up as women, and Namjoon is confused and put-upon.]

ch4otick gayz: rated T, 17k [includes vhopemin & yoonkook]

[EM0 CRAKHED]

jeon can't kook: jfc,,

jeon can't kook: sorry guys i took care of it,

jeon can't kook: i gave him like 3 tablets of Benadryl he's out

hobi-wan kenobi: kook, you're supposed to only take 1

jeon can't kook: ......

jeon can't kook: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ guess he'll die.

yoonmin—

hands down: rated T, 43k

Hoseok wouldn’t stop talking about him. It was Jimin this, Jimin that, Jimin was so cute, Jimin was so talented, Jimin danced so well and he was so nice- Yoongi had to control the impulse to roll his eyes the minute his name came out of Hoseok’s mouth.

So, yeah, maybe Yoongi was already predisposed towards disliking Park Jimin for some very valid reasons but this? This took the fucking cake.

the songbird and the sea: rated M, 256k [minor taekook and namjin]

In a world where dominance of the sea is an endless battle between pirates and mariners, Park Jimin is content living in his little village on a small, uninteresting island by the eastern mainland. He wants nothing to do with the bloodshed of good and evil, the heartless killing of both innocents and condemned, the constant establishment and disruption of order. What he wants is peace, to live his life in the same town he was born in, to spend his days in the beautiful forest, and to use the powers of his Blessed Rune to nurture the home he loves so dearly.

But when his island is attacked by pirates, Jimin will have no other choice than to do as they command and leave all thoughts of peace behind in favor of boarding the Agust, a pirate ship captained by the infamous Min Yoongi, Black Fox of the East.

*flashflood: rated E, 15k

A handjob a week is not much for Jimin to live off of.

Jimin thinks it’s sort of like the equivalent of feeding someone nothing but peas for all three meals of the day: sure, peas are all well and good, but eating peas and only peas for any extended period of time is going to result in some serious vitamin deficiencies. And probably some other bad stuff, although Jimin doesn’t actually know all that much about it.

composure: rated E, 131k

Everyone has secrets.

Everything in Jimin's life changed the day he presented as an Omega. It's as though the world were grabbed out from under him, launching him into a special hell not meant for someone with as much fire and potential as him.

This is why when Jimin is given the opportunity to stop being an Omega, he takes it.

What Jimin hadn't anticipated, is meeting his roommate, Yoongi, or realizing his entire cover will be blown if he can't stop going so crazy over that cinnamon and mint scent he has.

Too bad that is the least of his worries...

*(This is a story containing serious and dark themes with disturbing elements which become more prevelant as the story progresses.)

jikook—

*On Patrol: rated M, 130k [includes yoonseok & namjin; read the sequel here]

Officer Jeon has his eyes on Mr. Adorable.

Officer Min has a strange neighbor he can't seem to keep out of his life.

Captain Kim finds comfort in his son's homeroom teacher.

Well, cops need some loving too, right?

under the mistletoe (with you): rated G, 5k

Jimin and Jungkook try to get Yoongi and Hoseok together during the holidays but it doesn't really go as planned.

The White Wolf’s Shadow: rated T, 41k [includes yoonseok, namjin, & taekook]

Jeongguk, a powerful Alpha in line for his father’s throne, needs a mate to wear the crown. When Jimin, an alluring Omega and foreign Prince, comes to re-cement their alliance everything seems to fall into place… against their wishes. Jeongguk, forced to decide what's more important, his own happiness or his people; and Jimin whose carrying deadly secrets that place the fate of everyone on his shoulders, are forced to come together. With enemies on all sides will they be able to overcome their struggles and do what has to be done?

Jeongguk and Jimin’s wolves have liked each other from the start, but when they are forced into an arranged marriage both parties are unhappy about it for various reasons. Neither wants to admit it, but both find themselves falling for the other as time goes on.

yoonjin—

heists and hearts: rated T, 95k [minor jihope and vmon]

"Give me a number,” Yoongi says when Namjoon finally turns around in his computer chair. Namjoon looks at him and sighs.

"One."

It's not the first time he's stumped with one plan. Namjoon looks at Yoongi, eyes trained on him like a hawk. “One?” Yoongi asks, voice low. “One,” Namjoon repeats, “and you’re not going to like it.”

There’s a hint of curiosity in Yoongi’s eyes and a question attempts to come out from his lips. But instead, Namjoon hears the order from his partner.

“Call them in.”

a little water clears us of this deed: rated T, 4k

All Yoongi wanted was to read Macbeth and pass his Literature class in peace, not catch the attention of Kim Seokjin.

*best served cold: rated E, 16k

[They say when you / embark on a journey / of revenge, dig two graves. They underestimate me. (mr state trooper. please don’t stop me. please don’t stop me.)]

After Yoongi's parents get killed by the mob, Yoongi sets out to avenge them. No matter what it takes.

he’ll come back for the honey and you: rated E, 18k

“Cooking is attractive. Like playing guitar, it demonstrates your prowess with your hands, your sophisticated knowledge of an art form... But it goes deeper than that. Cooking is a shared experience, a way to express yourself to someone you care about.”

Or: Seokjin is no stranger to a little sugar. However, Yoongi is the sweetest thing he’s come across in a long time, and there's no recipe telling him exactly what he should do next.

a ballad for you: rated T, 3k

tumblr prompt from anon: "Hi, do you take requests that aren't smut? I'd like to see YoonJin where Jin mistakes Yoongi for his blind date."

[At this point, Seokjin only has one thing to say about his date; he needs to show the hell up.]

everything i need: rated M, 12k

“Sorry I’m late, babe. Traffic was awful,” the man is saying. He flashes a bright, gummy smile at Seokjin and nods apologetically at the waitress. “I’m sorry. Can we have five more minutes to look at the menu?”

He waits until she is gone before he leans across the table and says in a low voice. “I’m Yoongi. Just play along okay? Whoever didn’t bother to show up is a dick.”

Or, the one where Seokjin is a single dad. His son is in love with the music their first floor neighbour plays on the piano, and the last thing Seokjin expects is to fall for the man behind the music.

déjà-brew : rated T, 7k

according to his employees, seokjin has a crush on the cute guy that comes around and orders an americano every single day. what they don’t know, and what seokjin hasn’t told them yet, is that they’re actually married. (he has his reasons, okay?)

yoonseok—

same damn hunger: rated E, 40k

When it comes to fucking around with his best friend, Yoongi follows two rules:

1. They must be inebriated.

2. They must not kiss.

the daily grind: rated E, 8k

hoesock87: I refuse to believe that u didn’t just google “cute asian twink” to get that selfie

yoongay: i am a cute asian twink. r u tryna fuck me or no

(or: yoonseok meet on grindr)

and one musn’t tell lies: rated M, 46k

Yoongi wants to fly so bad he's ready to break the rules for that. Jung Hoseok is the worst collateral damage possible. (Stop lying).

*days to weeks to months: rated M, 10k

Yoongi’s just trying to date the possible love of his life, Jung Hoseok. But the package deal includes five asshole friends and a theoretically infinite number of disasters.

Basically: a series of moments where Yoongi wonders why his friends and also god hate him.

see, i’ve got plans (to get to you): rated T, 11k

Yoongi and Hoseok have a game plan.

(Or: The one where Yoongi takes three tries to propose to Hoseok.)

single pringle: rated T, 7k [includes jikook and namjin]

Where Yoongi owns a restaurant that is a date hot-spot and he is single and salty at all the couples streaming into his restaurant on a daily basis. Not only that, but somewhere along the way he's gotten himself a couple of gay regulars who won't go away. And maybe someone who makes him a little less salty at the end too.

**halcyon: rated M, 27k [includes minjoon]

The only explanation for how two demons have found themselves on Earth is a simple one: Jung Hoseok loves to gamble and Min Yoongi can't resist a good game.

junghope—

blue flame special: rated E, 106k [minor vmin]

hoseok just got dumped and now a clearly under aged bartender is refusing to serve him a much needed round of shots.

("can you do this teenage angst thing some other time? my ex just walked in with his new boyfriend and i could really use some liquid cowardice."

the kid narrows his eyes in the direction hoseok had nodded toward. "seokjin hyung's your ex?")

hoseok nods. "you know him?"

"yeah," jeongguk glares at hoseok and begins stepping away, definitely refusing to serve him any drink at all. "he dumped me for you.")

yoonjihope [?? essentially yoongi/hoseok/jimin]—

**good things always belonged to everyone: rated E, 9k

Yoongi is trying to accept his part as the beta in a polyamorous relationship with an alpha and an omega. Little by little he notices just how unfitting that role is.

yoonkook—

soft melodies and softer touches: rated E, 11k

[22:39; I see the way you look at me, hyung.]

Yoongi's world stands still, and in that moment, he wants nothing more than to wring Jimin's neck. It's Jeongguk, it has to be Jeongguk, who else would it be? Yoongi knows many dancers--unfortunately Jimin's one of them--but there's only one that he's on close terms with, and whose number he doesn't have.

Jeongguk. It's Jeongguk. It's fucking Jeongguk.

(OR: Jeongguk's a contemporary dancer, and Yoongi is his academy's pianist).

take me out (the date way or the assassination way): rated T, 7k

jin [8:01] theres a mysterious hot guy on campus that yoongi keeps running into like a damn romantic drama but every time they meet he ends up nearly killing yoongi

tae [8:01] kinky

with a bang (stunted plants can bloom): rated M, 24k

what not to do when you find yourself falling for the guy you almost slept with but then didn’t because he turned out to be your friends’ roommate: a guide by min yoongi

flower boys: not rated, 3k

“it was pretty,” namjoon protests, trying to defend himself. “and it was a gift from a fan. wouldn’t she have been troubled to have to take it home?”

“and you brought it back to let it die?” yoongi interjects, dry as sand. he rises to his feet, dusting off his jeans. “you gonna take care of it, namjoonie?”

“how hard can it be,” namjoon says, but he sounds hesitant, like he knows his own annihilatory powers will trump his determination. “it’s a small plant. it needs water, sunlight, and air. we can provide all of those. piece of cake.”

(yoongi and jungkook take care of a plant together.)

i know i’ll fall in love with you, baby: rated T, 31k

The soulmate/soulbond au where Yoongi is part of a famous rap duo and Jungkook is his diligent fanboy, they meet at a fansign and things escalate from there

(alt. Yoongi didn’t sign up for this)

i blow up buildings (but i’d blow you): rated T, 8k

“Yoongi,” says Namjoon, his tone allowing no argument. He holds the boy an arms length in front of him and smiles painfully. “Meet Jeongguk. He’s your new bodyguard.”

Yoongi sputters and decides to argue anyway, because fuck no. “I said I don’t need a bodyguard, Namjoon.”

(Or, the AU where Yoongi has been receiving death threats from an enemy organisation known as Skeletal, and Jeon Jeongguk is the lucky bastard brought in to be his bodyguard. Yoongi tries to hate him. He really does.)

all the light we cannot see: rated T, 64k

“i’m not your servant!”

“you are on my ship now, and anyone on my ship does what i say,” snaps yoongi, and when he takes a step closer to jeongguk, jeongguk realizes that he’s actually taller than yoongi. strangely, he hadn’t noticed it before, because yoongi doesn’t seem like a small man. especially now, with that fiery look on his face, he seems larger than life—but jeongguk refuses to back down. it’s a bad idea to argue, he knows, but jeongguk has never been very good at stopping himself from doing something he’ll regret.

(or: when jeongguk finally gets his chance to sail the cosmos, it’s onboard the ship of an aggravating man named min yoongi. he thinks it’ll be extraordinarily dull—but the universe, and the legend of treasure planet, have other plans.)

gusto d’italia: rated E, 64k

Jungkook turned towards the kitchen - and walked straight into the icy glare of Min Yoongi.

“Are you always this late?”

Jungkook tried to bite his tongue. “I was talking to – ”

“I don’t care who you were talking to,” Yoongi snapped. He had both arms crossed firmly over his chest as he continued to berate Jungkook in front of the rest of the staff. “How am I supposed to trust you to get my food out on time if you can’t follow a simple direction that I gave less than five minutes ago?”

Jungkook stared at his feet. “It won’t happen again, chef.”

“Better fucking not.”

-----

[Jungkook always dreamed of becoming a chef in the future. When Yoongi, a culinary genius with unusual social skills, shows up in the kitchen of Gusto d'Italia, Jungkook becomes awestruck.]

taegi—

the less i know the better: rated E, 41k

Yoongi shifts uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding making eye contact.

"I might’ve… invented a boyfriend," he finally mumbles to the glass in front of him

i want to believe: rated G, k

Taehyung starts an astronomy club.

my heart flutters from the sugar high: rated M, 6k

Yoongi and Taehyung sneak around together, cheating on their diets. The group? They've drawn different conclusions.

over the winter lake: rated E, 9k

There’s a small alcove along the outskirts of Daegu, not too deep in the woods, that lead to a lake of still waters and peaceful surroundings. Yoongi isn’t entirely fond of it—the body of water itself being named Death Lake by locals who’ve lived there long enough to tell the tales of the disturbing amount of murders, suicides, and disappearances that are linked with it.

Yoongi sees something in the water. Something inhuman.

abracadon’t: rated M, 7k

"i don't understand why you hate taehyung," hoseok always asks.

yoongi doesn't really understand either. but he's just so...hate-able.

or, taehyung never learned that annoying the fuck out of someone isn't actually a healthy way to show you like them.

namgi—

you could give it all (but it’s never enough): rated E, 46k

yoongi imprints with an alpha he's an alpha too

again again again: rated T, 8k

Yoongi takes a deep breath. Runs through the facts. 1. Namjoon is really fuckin drunk. 2. They made that dumbass pact well over ten years ago when they were both sad and weird and lonely. 3. His heart definitely did not seize up a little bit at the thought of marrying his best friend. It just didn’t.

vmin—

it’s not about reciprocation (it’s just all about me): rated E, 34k

“Taehyung and Jimin broke up.”

“It’s bullshit—”

“We were all rooting for them.”

“It’s complete bullshit—”

“Everyone actually thought they had a chance, you know?”

(Alternatively: Taehyung’s a problematic idiot who fell in love with the right person at the wrong time.)

jinkook—

*knowingly, i drank from the poisoned chalice: rated m, 22k

In captivity, Seokjin learns that you cannot have both love and life without sacrificing something important.

namgikook (namjoon/yoongi/jungkook)—

*the kinky encounter at the auto-erotic asphyxiation house: rated E, 6k

"The last owner of this house died too.”

“How?”

Jeongguk looks over his shoulder at them, his front teeth poking into his bottom lip as his nose scrunches and the corners of his eyes crinkle in a delighted grin. “Auto-erotic asphyxiation! Honestly, what a way to fucking go. Do you think he came before he died?”

“Christ, Jeongguk.”

Namjoon drops his head into his hands, letting out a long-suffering sigh as Jeongguk elbows him playfully.

“It’s a valid question!” Jeongguk snickers as both Namjoon and Yoongi give him a painfully withered look. “We can only hope his last moment was a pleasurable one.”

taekook—

**fading brilliance, fire on silk: rated E, 26k

Jungkook spent his life studying angels and demons, but none of his imaginary portrayals of them can even come close to Taehyung’s mystical, almost poetic beauty: sun-kissed skin and full lips, lashes so long that Jungkook feels the brush of it on his skin when Taehyung leans in to dip his tongue in the hollow of his throat.

Jungkook wonders if he’s already too far gone. The guilt doesn’t eat him up anymore, the shame only serving to heighten his arousal instead of extinguish it. Jungkook has no hope of salvation now, and he doesn’t even care, not when damnation tastes this fucking good.

#namjin #taekook #namgikook #namgi #yoonjin #vmin #taegi #yoonkook #yoonjihope #junghope #yoonseok #sope #yoonmin #jikook #bts #bts fic recs #bts fic rec #fic recs #bangtan boys

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mandysxmuses · 4 years

Note

(( 🎊🎭💬(2 who haven't met yet) 👄 🐜💥🐩🐺- i do this b/c i luv u uwu ))

🎊: Which is your favorite muse?

//Oh gosh, currently -- well, Todd and Jemand have always been favorites of mine to write, but I think right now it’s actually Shoichi. I know I just added him like, a day ago, but I really like his character so much already and it’s one of those guys I want to write a ton of stuff about but am also worried about annoying people with spamming the blog over

🎭: With which of your muses can you identify the most?

I’ve always really deeply identified with Carrie (especially after having to shed a lot of religious fears), and a lot of the time recently I’ve been feeling like Laut and just a little bit like Alice (her problems are much worse than mine but still, sometimes taking care of your mental health can be really difficult)

💬: Write a banter between two of your muses. (Bonus: Sender chooses which muses)

“Vincent? That can’t be right. You were... -- oh, you’re Asian. Nevermind, you look a lot like him from the back.”

“Haha -- I look like a friend of yours?”

“Gross, he wasn’t ever my friend.”

Shoichi snickers and adjusts his glasses. “Well, hopefully you won’t see him again, then?”

“I’m sure I won’t. ... You take much better care of your teeth, by the way.”

“... Haha -- an unusual compliment, but thank you.”

👄: Which of your muses would probably get sexual with each other, if they met?

Todd and Jemand let’s be honest man but Verheiler and Knirschen are definitely attracted to each other

Maybe Nero and Fiona? And Patroklos and Fiona too, they both have very similar taste in women

OH and even though I think I removed Lillian from the blog she and Walter would be cute together

🐜: Which of your muses is the most clever/intelligent/educated one?

Speaking of Walter, I think he’s the most educated ‘Keeper boy’ when it comes to what’s up on Earth besides Jemand, despite hardly visiting, because he’s a huge bookworm and obsesses over wanting to be human.

But also

Nico’s demonic weapons are insanely powerful and I’m surprised this woman has not gotten herself killed so she’s pretty smart too

Judging by how he behaves I bet Shoichi’s really clever too, which makes it really sad he took up lower-paying jobs and eventually just resorted to killing for money

💥: Which of your muses would you fight with?

“kill me Todd”

“nice”

I wouldn’t fight any of these guys. I don’t like dying and otherwise I don’t like fighting cinnamon buns

🐩: Which of your muses is the most loyal?

Nero is very loyal. The entire crux of the first game he appeared in was his loyalty to Kyrie and wanting to save her from a bunch of demon-worshiping creepers, and in the second one he saves his father and uncle after revealing how deeply his brother’s death affected him (which makes me wish it was touched on more in the previous game because Credo’s death was kinda brushed over on Nero’s side in that one)

Heather’s story literally focuses on a revenge plot for her father’s death she loves Harry Mason please protect him

... well protect Heather it’s kinda too late on Harry’s end

Grirrian’s entire thing is that he’s so loyal it’s toxic, because he’s refusing to let anyone else in but this little angel (and his mother)

And I think the Keeper story could also focus a lot on toxic levels of ‘loyalty’ bc they were getting increasingly possessive of Emma as time went on, and are literally murderous over Keepers they like

🐺: Which of your muses is the most unsocial?

Oh gosh

Carrie White for sure

Laut

Todlich

Maybe Yuri definitely Yuri

Niemand

#ooc #welcometothemuseapalooza

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puppyenergy · 5 years

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@rickenrolled you’re an absolute mad man i love you. here’s all my answers. long ass post beneath the cut

1. Who’s your favourite character from UT?

i love them all but if i had to pick one then chara

2. Who’s your least favourite character from UT?

asgore

3. Your opinion about UT fandon:

very sweet, lots of smart and lovely and creative and gay people. could do without all the transphobes and incest/pedo shippers tho but like, theyre kinda everywhere aren’t they. like flies! smack

4. What’s your favourite quote?

“you never gained LOVE, but you gained love. does that make sense? maybe not.“

5. What’s your favourite soundtrack?

death by glamour

6. Pacifist, neutral or genocide?

pacifist

7. Why did you decide to play UT?

when it came out, my first exposure to it was thru supporting a friend who had recently started a youtube channel and they did a playthru of undertale! i ended up being unable to wait for them to finish it and just went and bought the game myself so i could play it. i was just so invested, i couldn’t wait for them to upload asklghskl

8. Favourite battle?

undyne’s

9. Favourite scene?

GOD I CAN’T CHOOSE JUST ONE SCENE. fuck. you can’t do this to me.

10. Your first letter to Mettaton was:

“legs” probably sldkghsd i don’t remember

11. Your reaction when you saw Omega Flowey for the first time:

VERY SCARED. I LEGIT THOUGHT MY GAME WAS POSSESSED.

12. Your headcanon about Frisk’s gender:

they’re nonbinary but i specifically headcanon them as agender! i also rlly dig genderfluid frisk as well bc same.

13. Which UT character reminds you of yourself?

mostly frisk but also chara and also mettaton

oh and all the dogs

14. Which UT character reminds you of your best friend?

TEMMIE. we are dog and cat solidarity.

15. Would you smooch a ghost?

i already have!

16. Which UT character would be your best friend? Why?

all of them. i will befriend them all.

17. Do you remember your first killed character? Who was that?

toriel ;_; i reset & redid the entire game for her, i felt so bad

18. Did you do sth in game you regret?

killing toriel lmao

19. Which ending was your first?

pacifist!

20. Your favourite land in UT and why: (Snowdin, Waterfall or Hotland)

snowdin is my favorite... it’s just so home-y. i rlly love snow, it brings a lot of happy memories. the christmas aesthetic does as well. and it’s also where you meet sans & papyrus & all the dogs. it’s just such a happy place.

21. Your favourite place in UT and why: (Undyne’s house for example)

i just rlly love snowdin ok. every area in snowdin. i still remember my little gasp!! when i found out that the snow on frisk’s head is always a different shape every time you go thru that slide-y puzzle.

22. Your headcanon about River person’s gender:

“it doesn’t really matter.”

23. Your headcanon about one of the UT characters:

papyrus is nonbinary!

24. Butterscouch or cinnamon pie?

cinnamon!

25. Your opinion/headcanon about six human souls:

i always connect the deltarune characters to the six human souls for some reason. kris is the cyan soul, susie is the purple soul, ralsei is the green soul, lancer is the blue soul, noelle is the yellow soul, and then im not sure who would be the orange soul... ofc only one of them is actually human but that’s always an association i made asdlghsd

26. With who would you go on a date?

none of them tbh sdkglhskdlgha i would go on hangouts with them tho!

27. Marry, fuck, kiss and kill:

marry: napstablook fuck: mettaton kiss: all of them getting kisses from me!!! mwah kill: none :(

28. Do you wanna have a bad time?

no!! i wanna have a fun time. a sillay ol’ time.

29. Your favourite UT au:

there’s this one unfinished comic someone made a while ago i don’t even remember what it was called but it was about two charas or smth??? idek if that counts as an au but tbh that comic is the origin of my love for feral chara

30. Your least favourite UT au:

all of the ones where anyone is misgendered or there’s incest/pedo/abuse in it it just automatically makes it a bad au.

31. Would you want to fall into underground?

i mean, yeah. where’s the hole. i’m on my way.

32. Describe or draw your undersona:

the puppy is specific to dfta

my other undersona is dragon kid. he’s a human & monster fusion with a rough past. he’s also adopted. the cat is his sibling.

33. One reason why you love UT:

toby said Hello LGBT Community

34. One reasom why you hate UT:

frisk’s design is,, u kno

35. If you could choose one type of food from UT, what would it be?

dog salads for days!

36. Your favourite amalgamate:

snowdrake’s mother & endogeny

37. Your headcanon about Gaster: who do you think Gaster is to Sans and Papyrus? (Father, brother, uncle etc)

i like to headcanon him as their dad

38. Your opinion about bad puns:

they’re good, ok.

39. Do you draw fanarts from UT? If yes, then what do you like the most to draw?

yes i do asklghsdkgl i could probably draw chara/frisk/asriel forever and be ok with it

40. Which of human souls fits you the most?

red, baby

41. What would be the first thing you would to show to Sans, Papyrus or the rest of characters in human world? Why?

the stars!!! they’ve been wishing on rocks for too long. time to see the real thing.

42. Which song reminds you of UT or one of the UT characters? Why?

skglhslkhg i make playlists just for this tbh. i have a playlist for mettaton, chara, frisk, asriel, undertale in general, and then one for both chara & frisk. too many songs to talk about rn so here’s the most recent one i added to chara’s playlist:

https://soundcloud.com/serious-url/last-night-on-earth-2

my favorite lyric is “we are horrible but not bad”

43. Your opinion on underloid:

i. i’m not sure what that is askdlghsdk

OH I JUST LOOKED IT UP ITS UNDERTALE VOCALOID??? i’ve never listened to it before but tbh that’s real cool

44. Do you forgive Asgore for what he’s done?

no lol

45. Did you pay for Tem’s college?

I DIDNT, IM SORRY TEM... i just dont have the patience to sell all that residue

46. Have you seen any youtube letsplay of UT?

i swear i’ve seen them all now. i watch them when i need some free serotonin. u_u

47. Do you listen to any fanmade songs? If so, then which are your favourite?

i don’t rlly listen to any but i have a few saved! i rlly love the fucking checker dance & death by glamour mashup

youtube

48. What are your favourite theories?

narra!chara if you can even CALL that a theory man it’s literally canon

i also rlly like the theory that ut sans is actually from deltarune, and also maybe a darkner.

49. Who is your favourite enemy? (Not including boss monsters)

LESSER DOG

50. Do you have any headcanons about Chara’s past? (Why they hate humanity, why did they fell to the underground etc)

i think they had some pretty shitty ppl in their life until they met the dreemurrs, probably.

51. Who is your favourite dog?

DONT DO THIS TO ME,

52. What was your reaction to true lab?

fear and a lot of emotion

53. Your fabourite voice acting:

myself sakldhgklsh

54. At the end of pacifist run did you stay with your friends or did you come back to your family?

i always send frisk to stay with toriel bc as their player guardian i would not feel comfortable with myself if i just left a child stranded on their own. it was the same in oneshot. if i’m ur temporary game dad then i’m leaving u in a safe place before the game ends ok.

55. Who is older - Sans or Papyrus?

sans

56. Your OTP(s):

OK LISTEN. GOATBUN,,

also ALPHYNE

57. Your NOTP(s):

any of the incest/pedo ones. especially with fr4ns & ch4sriel i’m gonna get real stabby.

58. Your BROTP(s):

chara/frisk haa

59. Your favourite puzzle:

i like the shooty spaceship ones!

60. Which battle was the hardest for you?

fingers in his ass.... fingers in his ass.... asgore he likes b

61. Did you still hate Flowey after you discovered his true indentity?

i never hated flowey, ok. and also no.

62. The saddest moment:

“the next day.”

“...”

“the human died.”

63. Which ending is your favourite?

true pacifist, pls

64. How old do you think Frisk is?

9, maybe? i always change my mind on this asdlghsdk. they’re just a baby. age is baby.

65. Any post pacifist run headcanons?

both chara & asriel get revived. always.

66. Your favourite NPC:

the trans woman lionness npc who mettaton gives his dress to

67. Humans or monsters?

both!

68. The funniest situation:

my brain is failing me but i fucking love the idea that frisk is just walking away from undyne during her battle sequence and she’s just CLANK CLANK CLANK in her armor stomping after but ugh has to stop and wait while frisk gets a phonecall and UGH has to check on sans who fell asleep at his post.

AND UNDYNE’S HANGOUT

UGH JUST UNDYNE IN GENERAL I LOVE HER

69. Skeletonfucker, robotfucker, goatfucker or kinkshaming?

listen i KNOW i said i’d fuck mettaton but i’m NOT a robotfucker.

70. When playing for the first time how many candies did you take?

one! i wanted to be a good boy.

but then i just went ham,

71. Did you kill or spare Flowey at the end of the game?

spare and i got emotional with how he reacted

72. If you had to be one of the main characters, which would you choose?

73. If you had to kill one of the main characters which would you choose?

i wouldn’t kill any of them!! i love them all. i refuse.

74. Which character(s) would you like to cosplay?

HMM. i could probably pull off frisk the best.

75. Your favourite Burgerpants’ quote?

#i can't believe i actually answered them all #long post #.txt

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