#... That makes me wonder where I kept the physical wedding invitation. Might still be in my old room. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rosaliepostsstuff · 4 years ago

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Good for him | G.W.

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

requested, based on the song Already Gone by Kelly Clarkson

summary: Maintaining a relationship while going through grieving process becomes too exhausting for Y/N and George so they part ways. But what happens once they both take control of their lives back and meet again?

word count: 2.5k warnings: grief, mentions of death, insecurity, fluffy ending (hope i didn’t miss any warnings, in any case please let me know)

tags: @izzyyy-1 ; @hufflepuff5972 ; @pandaxnienke

You walked around the flat above the shop, and you thought about the day you helped George and Fred move in. Memories came flooding back to you, you had just graduated Hogwarts, you were all so full of life, looking bright into the future even as the war was tightening its grasp around you. But you couldn’t have expected it to take so much from you.

The door to the flat opened slowly with a creak and you saw a shell of a man walk in. You were standing in the middle of the small entry hall, clutching your bag filled with little things you had left at George’s over the years, things you would now take with you.

He came back after undoubtedly spending the whole afternoon at a pub.

You looked at him and you felt a lump in your throat as tears slowly clouded your vision. You looked at him and once again you wondered if what you were doing was right.

You loved George with all of your heart, loved him more than anything. He had changed your life in so many ways and left his mark on you. And you knew that nobody else could ever love you the same way he did. You were supposed to be each other’s forever, but grief had other plans for you.

After months, you were exhausted. You had tried and tried to help George up after he collapsed along with his brother but it got just too much. You had your own process to go through and you couldn’t do that while pouring all of yourself into a relationship that no longer physically existed. There is a boundary between trying your hardest for love to help someone get better and hitting a wall, trying to help someone who doesn’t want to be helped while losing yourself in the process. You hoped he would move on and find happiness with someone eventually. He was bound to find someone better, someone, to give him more than you could.

At first, he was angry. He felt betrayed. He resented you for leaving him when you were supposed to love him. Looking at him like that hurt you, it almost made you break and take it all back, but you couldn’t. Because love just wasn’t enough to keep you together.

So when his initial shock passed you parted your ways in mutual agreement.

As time went on you slowly got better and better. You focused on yourself, on your career and in time you felt something that resembled happiness. You felt almost at peace, but it was a start.

Almost a year has passed since your break up, and one late afternoon you got an owl and felt a pang in your heart upon reading the name.

You tried to avoid George in fear of losing all that progress that you’ve made in moving on. But you also felt that he didn’t deserve to just get ignored by you and you were curious about his intentions.

My Y/N,

I probably don’t have the right anymore to call you mine, but it feels wrong otherwise.

I missed you. I hope time has treated you well. I know it helped me heal. I know I’m not fully there yet, I still have a long way to go, but I’ve woken up enough to see how shit life is without you. I don’t expect you to just let me back into your life, but if you would, that would make me the happiest man in the world. I just wish to see you and talk to you.

Please don’t ignore this letter, I beg you. Even if you don’t want to see me ever again, please, don’t leave me hanging, I hate uncertainty. Please, before I let you go, tell me you’re alright.

Yours,

George

And so, with a shaky hand, you wrote back:

George,

You know well what we did was for the best. You should move on and find someone who will truly make you happy and give you all that you deserve. I can’t do that for you.

Y/N

You didn’t get another letter from him.

You tried to push George out of your mind again, always trying to find something to occupy yourself with. Until months later, an owl delivered a beautiful, formal-looking envelope to your windowsill. Hermione and Ron were getting married.

You’d been successfully avoiding all Weasley’s gatherings, even though Molly never failed to invite you. Christmas, Easter, all the birthdays. You knew she saw you as one of her own regardless if you were dating one of her children or not. But until now you didn’t want to take that risk.

However, a wedding was too important, and both Ron and Hermione proved great friends to you in the past. If they invited you, that meant they wanted you there. And part of moving on meant you couldn’t just avoid George forever.

You had apparated just outside the Burrow. You saw the wedding tent with some people already there, you scanned the crowd, subconsciously looking for him already. You fixed your dress and with your legs a bit shaky, you approached the entrance.

“Y/N! Hi- !” Ginny elongated, walking up to you with her arms spread wide and a huge smile on her face. “Hey, Gin,” you smiled dimly. “It’s so great to see you, it’s been so long..! I’m really glad you came,” she gave you a proper Weasley hug, one full of emotion, showing you how she really missed you. “I know it was probably not easy,” she added a bit quieter, giving you a knowing look. “But anyway, I’ll take that!” she gestured to the gift bag you were holding in your hand, “I’m on gift duty today, thank you-“

“Do I have a seat assigned?” you asked, looking at the rows of seats for guests. And that’s when you saw him, talking to someone by the wedding arch. His back turned to you, but you recognised him by his posture alone. He was wearing a dark navy three-piece suit. One could get really lost looking at this man.

“Yes, yes, Fleur will show you while I put this away. Fleur..!”

You avoided looking in his direction, afraid of catching eye contact. Waiting for the ceremony you thought to yourself you’ll have to meet him sooner or later, but you just didn’t want to be caught looking at him first. You have moved on. He has moved on.

You glided through the sea of guests with a glass of champagne in hand, some of them headed to the dance floor, some to their tables, just like you. You kept your eyes trained on where you were going, careful not to bump into someone but not looking anyone in the eye.

“Y/N,” called the voice that felt like home. You froze in spot, bracing yourself, then turned in the direction it came from.

“Hi,” he said with the tiniest smile and his eyes filled with uncertainty. He looked a bit better than the last time you saw him. His face seems to have aged a bit during this short time, his cheeks a bit hollow. But he didn’t look as tired, the dark circles under his eyes lightened up a bit. His face was clean-shaven and his hair cut. He looked very handsome.

“Hi, George,” you said the name out loud after so long.

His eyes moved down over your body and back up again, “You look beautiful,” he said sincerely. You shifted on your feet and tightened the grasp on your glass a bit, “Thank you, you look really smart.” He smiled a bit wider. There were a million things he wanted to say at that moment, but he didn’t know which one to lead with. Which one would prompt you to give him your attention and listen to the rest. “May-... may I have a dance..?” he asked quietly, barely audible in all the noise, music playing and people partying. You panicked slightly. You did not feel ready for that. “I… I was just going to sit down for a bit, talk to some other guests. Maybe later,” you blurted out the last part and regretted it almost instantly. There was a bit of a pause between you, George did his best to hide his slight disappointment. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said, with a fraction of the glint in the eye that you knew well. With that, he turned around and walked away, just his head visible above the crowd.

Your heart fluttered a bit. This felt like old George.

You did your best to shake that feeling off, then noticed Molly next to one of the tables. You owed her at least a conversation.

Not for a moment has she made you feel guilty about not seeing her all this time. She engulfed you in the biggest hug, showing you just how happy she was to see you. Your spirit lifted instantly, and she hasn’t mentioned your break up and asked about your life, what you did in the meantime. Yet inevitably, the conversation somehow shifted to the topic of Fred’s passing.

“We’ve gotten better, we’re trying as best as we can. That’s what Freddie would’ve wanted,” she said with a wide smile and her eyes a bit watery. “Even Georgie’s getting better,” she nodded, looking at him in the crowd. “Sorry, dear, I promised myself I wouldn’t mention that with you…” she got a bit flustered. “It’s- it’s okay Molly,” you smiled as best as you could. “In this case, I do have to say – it is a shame, dear. You know you’re a Weasley to me but I’d always hoped I’d have you as my daughter.” She rubbed her hand on your shoulder comfortingly, “you were good for him, you know? Even Fred always said that…” You stayed silent, focusing all your might into stopping tears forming in your eyes. “My, I better leave before I make even more of a mess. Do have a nice time tonight, dear,” she gave you one last, warm smile and walked off. Leaving your mind in chaos.

“George..?” you tapped him on the shoulder gently, and even the feeling of his warmth on the tips of your fingers felt tingly. He turned to you right away with a smile that had you weak in the knees, then reached his hand out for you to take and gestured to the dance floor with his eyes.

His touch brought you comfort. He held you just like he always had, as if you picked up right where you left off, right before everything went wrong. George’s touch made you forget about everything around you, and as he led you in dance, you lost yourself. If only he’d lead you outside and into the sunset, without a word, you’d let him.

“You know, I was hoping… If you’d see me today, see how I finally got a hold of myself, pulled myself together, everything would change,” George confessed, his voice strained with emotion. The music slowed down and you were just swaying with it. You looked up at him and he continued. “I mean, why did we end things, Y/N?” he asked desperately.

You looked back down, not able to meet his eyes anymore. He went on before you could answer.

“I was a mess. I was in a dark, dark place, Y/N... I didn’t have enough grip to support you as I should’ve, so instead, I dragged you down with me.” George lifted his head high, looking up at the illuminated ceiling, trying to keep his tears from falling. He didn’t want to fall apart now. “I’m sorry. I know I told you that when we... when you left. But my perspective’s changed, I can see better now and I want to say that again – I'm really, really sorry.” “George, please...” you plead, all your thoughts and doubts from the past coming back to you. “I- I feel so bad... that I couldn’t help you,” you confessed, “it hurt me so much, but I wasn’t enough.” You tried to stifle the sobs, tears streaming down your face now.

George pulled you closer, pulling you flush against him and wrapping his arms tight around you. You tried to find comfort in him, your hands fisting his crisp, white shirt.

“It was not your fault, okay Y/N/N? There was nothing more you could’ve done for me,” he said, resting his cheek on top of your head. “...but it’s behind us now. And not for one moment have I stopped loving you,” he confessed.” “But why...?” you cried, “George, I’ve given you the chance. I let you go so you could move on,” you grasped the shirt tighter, “so you could find someone better... You deserve so much better.” “There is no one better! Give me another chance and I promise, I will spend the rest of my life proving to you how perfect you are for me if that’s what it takes..!” He exclaimed, pulling away a bit to take your face into his hands and look you in the eyes. “Just let me, please.”

All words escaped you the moment you looked into his eyes, holding such sincerity. So you just nodded and smiled weakly, feeling a huge weight lift off your shoulders.

George slowly brought his face closer to yours, leaning in he searched your eyes for any signs of uncertainty until the very last moment when your lips touched. His lips were slightly chapped but so welcoming. When you kissed him back, letting go of his shirt to slide your hands along the soft material to his chest, he brought one of his hands to your waist and used the other to deepen the kiss. The song playing was slowly coming to an end, the singer’s soft voice accompanied by delicate piano melody seemed to set a rhythm to your lips. When it ended, he held your lips together still for a moment, then pulled away.

The breath you took then was the first proper breath in years for you, you breathed George in and felt intoxicated. Your eyes darted between his loving gaze and dazzling smile.

“I love you,” he chuckled, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “I love you back,” you said breathily, wrapping your arms around his body and relaxing into him.

George kept his promise and did not falter in proving to you how perfect you are.

The summer sun was slowly setting, the light wind pleasantly warm. Your eyes were set on his face, eyes closed and a relaxed smile on his lips, as his head lay in your lap. One of your hands was gently stroking his soft hair, while the other he held in his, on his chest. The sunset left a pinkish-orange hue on everything, making it seem even more magical.

You could stay like this forever, you thought, but Molly stuck her head out the window, motioning for you to come inside for dinner. Right as you were about to nudge George, his stomach grumbled, making you chuckle.

“Ugh, when’s dinner gonna be ready…” he groaned sleepily, opening one of his eyes. “Just now, actually. Come on, love, get up.”

So the two of you got up, going inside, hand in hand. And you were each other’s forever.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #weasley twins

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blrush · 4 years ago

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If Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding was a serious drama with hour long episodes, Part 3: The Honeymoon Is Over.

Ki Wan drew back his hand. Why had he reached out to Ho Seon like that? What was he hoping to achieve? It must be the exhaustion getting the better of him – yes that was it, he was just tired. In the warm room, under the candle light, Ho Seon had looked so handsome, like a painting of a prince and Ki Wan had felt the urge to touch the painting, and check if it was real. But Ho Seon was a man of flesh and bone, who reacted, and it scared Ki Wan out of his reverie and back to reality – a reality in which he could not afford to make such careless mistakes, or let down his guard.

He stepped back and mumbled under his breath;

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay”, Ho Seon replied, as he brought himself to his feet. They stood apart, an awkward silence between them.

“Ah!” Ho Seon realised, “You spoke!” Ki Wan brought his hand to his mouth, he hadn’t even registered that he’d opened it!

“I’m glad.” Ho Seon smiled, “I thought you never would. I was almost wondering if you could!” He joked, relaxing them both.

Was this the right moment? Should he tell Ho Seon the truth now? The opportunity was presenting itself, he could easily use this conversation as a starting point…

“Come,” Ho Seon spoke before Ki Wan could make up his mind. “Let’s go to bed, you must be tired.”

Ki Wan looked at the bed, then back to Ho Seon.

“Not “to bed”, in that way, I mean to sleep.” Ho Seon assured him.

They were both already down to their under garments, and Ki Wan was tired enough to fall asleep as he was, even though the layers of bandage-like fabric were tight and constricting on his chest and he would rather sleep naked or in a light open robe, he thought that exposing himself was probably not the best way for Ho Seon to find out the truth.

He had never slept in the same bed as another person, and he thought it might prove uncomfortable, but he found the sound of Ho Seon’s deep breathing soothing, and drifted off peacefully, carefully curled up on his own side of the bed.

In the morning, he woke feeling properly well rested for the first time in years. He had never minded his room at home, and was always happy in his own company. But his room had been bigger, and colder, the only sound was the wind outside, whistling through the archways and halls of their empty home. He had no idea the comfort that a warm body beside you could afford. During the night, he awoke briefly, but simply watched the shape of Ho Seon’s shoulders slowly moving up and down and he was quickly lulled back to sleep.

Ho Seon was such a welcome presence, he emanated warmth and comfort. And whilst Ki Wan was still fearful of him discovering the truth, he felt a level of safety and trust already with Ho Seon. He began to truly believe, rather than simply hope, that Ho Seon would be able to accept the truth and Ki Wan’s reasons for his deception. He no longer feared any kind of violent outburst from his new husband, now - he just feared the look of disappointment that would inevitably colour Ho Seon’s normally happy face.

Apparently, even sober, Ho Seon was not easy to rise. He took an age to wake up, twisting and turning under the covers, grumbling and murmuring. Ki Wan found it exceedingly amusing, and lay happily under the warm covers for longer than he should – watching Ho Seon. Ho Seon eventually turned to face him, at first seemingly a little taken aback by another person in his bed, but then registered it was his wife and smiled – toothlessly, his eyes closing.

“Goooggmrrning” He mumbled. Then he opened his eyes, sparkling with mischief, and added in an overly formal tone “My wife.”

“Mmm morning” Ki Wan responded, muffling his voice beneath the covers.

Ho Seon smiled and gave a prompting nod. Ki Wan rolled his eyes.

“Husband” he added quietly. This seemed to please Ho Seon to no end and he smiled ear to ear, giving an enormous yawn and stretch before beginning to get up.

~ ~ ~

The next few weeks of married life passed like a blissful dream. Ho Seon spent most of his days studying, or tending to administrative work, whilst Ki Wan kept his mother-in-law company, doing housework or tending to the garden. Some days, Ho Seon would come out to the courtyard and set up his desk outside on the balcony. Ki Wan suspected he didn’t like to feel excluded from any possible fun they may be having.

Ki Wan found himself settling into a routine of family life, and he and Ho Seon would bid each other goodnight and good morning as spouses, but it felt more like they were children playing house. They both avoided touching one another, and Ki Wan still avoided speaking as much as possible without seeming rude. Though he began to relax, particularly around his mother in-law, who had insisted he call her ‘mother’, which at first Ki Wan found difficult as it made him sad to think of his own loss, but he eventually complied and it only added to the happy-family delusion. She didn’t seem to notice or mind his voice. In fact, she complimented him on it once, and requested that Ki Wan should read to her sometimes – a request that Ki Wan happily complied with, as he missed reading and studying, things which he used to enjoy so much in his old student life before his mother passed away.

One evening Ho Seon passed comment as they were getting ready for bed. Ho Seon was sitting on the bed, cross legged, expectantly, like a child would.

“How come you read to my mother, but you never read to me?” He pouted.

“You can read.” Ki Wan responded.

“Pleeasssse,” Ho Seon whined, “Won’t you read me a bedtime story? Pleeeaase? Wife?”

Ki Wan stifled his laughter, and threw a pillow at Ho Seon in lieu of a proper response.

Their comfortable pantomime as a married couple became second-nature, and Ki Wan almost forgot about the graveness of his circumstances. He knew deep-down this illusion couldn’t last forever, but he couldn’t bring himself to be the one to shatter it. Their bubble was burst before long, not by either of them, but in the form of an unexpected visitor.

~ ~ ~

Ki Wan often bathed at the house, where they had a big warm tub which the maid would fill for him, and that Ho Seon would use after him. But his fear that the maid may walk back in at any moment, or that Ho Seon himself might barge in unknowingly meant that bath-time became more stressful than relaxing, and he could never really clean his body properly as the tub was too small and he spent most of the time trying to hide his naked body under the water. Walking one day near the river, his mother in-law pointed out a gorge where she said there was a natural spring that people could bathe in.

“I used to take Ho Seon down here when he was little.” She reminisced, “He used to love splashing around – he was so chubby as a baby! Aiiguuu, you will have such cute babies!”

The topic of children did seem to come up an awful lot with his mother-in-law, though Ki Wan normally brushed it off by acting coy and shy about the topic of baby-making. She never pushed him about it or asked intrusive questions about the physical side of their marriage, but she did always manage to slide babies into the conversation.

One morning, Ho Seon announced that he had to go into town on some business, and would take a few hours – whilst his mother-in-law felt poorly and said she would be staying in bed to rest. After helping her into bed, and reading to her until she fell sleep, Ki Wan felt a sudden rush of freedom and relief – he was alone! He immediately rushed back to the bridal house, collected clean undergarments, and headed out for the spring. He left a note beside his mother-in-law’s bedside, lest she wake and panic – or worse, come to find him.

Amongst the rocks and foliage, the spring looked tranquil and inviting. He carefully made his way amongst the trees, down the steep incline. He removed his clothing, and waded in. The water was cold but refreshing, and he dunked his head right under. Relief and calm enveloped him under the surface. He floated around happily, washing himself and swimming, revelling in the peace and quiet.

He knew he should get out soon, as his fingertips were beginning to wrinkle, and his mother-in-law was sure to wake eventually, but he was so relaxed he didn’t want to leave.

Giving his hair a final rinse, he dragged his fingers through a knot at the end and turned to where he had left his clothes on the rocks. He yelped with fright, a man was standing above the rocks looking down at him. He lowered himself further under the water, covering his chest completely.

He could only make out a silhouette, a tall frame, an adorned hat – a government official.

He dared not move, he could barely breathe. He had let his guard down for the first time in over a month, and this is what had come of it! The man began to move, and at first Ki Wan thought he was going to come further down the rocks to the pool, but instead – thankfully – the man turned and made his way back up to toward the road. There was no way of knowing how long he had been standing there. Had he been watching? How much could he see from up there? Had he simply wanted to use the spring, seen a young man bathing, and left? Or had he seen a woman in a state of immodesty? Either way, Ki Wan told himself that the man was a stranger so what should it matter to him?

But what should he do? Grab his clothes and head the opposite direction? But he didn’t know his way around the woods outside the property that well, he really only knew the way back to the Ryu house along the road. No, he would have to stay in the pool longer and hope the man left. But there was no way of knowing how long that would be. He sat in indecision until he could bare the cold no longer. Shivering he clambered out of the spring and put on his dress. Struggling and rushing, his clothes were now damp and he felt uncomfortable. But the afternoon sun had moved beyond trees and he was beginning to freeze in the woods. He would have to head home and hope the man had left the road. He tied back his wet hair and set off.

Upon arriving home, Ki Wan went directly to visit his mother-in-law, who was sitting up in bed, sipping some tea.

“Ahhh, my daughter, come sit beside me.”

“Eomeoni, how are you feeling?”

“Fine, I’m fine. I hate wasting away the day in bed. It makes me feel like an old lady!”

Ki Wan cracked a smile. “Oh? But you don’t look a day over twenty-five!”

“YA!” She half shouted, half laughed. “Rude girl! I was a real beauty in my day you know!”

Just then the maid knocked on the door and entered.

“Ma’am, there is an officer here to see the young master. He has been waiting a little while near the stables. I didn’t want to disturb you, and I wasn’t sure where the young madam was. I told him that Ho Seon was away in town, but he said he could wait. Shall I put him in the guest room, or offer him some tea?”

“Ughhh” she harrumphed, “I’m not in the mood to see some stuffy old court official today. He can just wait for Ho Seon, he should be back soon.”

“With all due respect Ma’am, he does seem very high-ranking. And he is not so stuffy or old… he’s actually quite handsome.” She giggled and looked toward Ki Wan for some sisterly affirmation.

“Very well. Hwa Jin, since you are now the lady of the house, why don’t you go and tend to him. Just serve him some tea and make a bit of small talk until Ho Seon gets back. Oh, and then let me know how handsome he is” she winked.

Ki Wan tried to force a smile as he rose, but his heart was sinking. What if it was the man from the spring? It had to be, what other official would be out on that road coincidentally? He began following the maid toward the stables to collect the gentleman.

Perhaps he had not seen Ki Wan’s face? Who was to say he would make the connection that the person he had seen in the pool was Ki Wan? He had to calm himself down!

As they approached the stables, where the official was tending to his horse, Ki Wan was sure it was the same man. The same broad stature, the same high-ranking hat. He turned when he noticed them, he was – as the maid had claimed – young and very handsome. The maid introduced Ki Wan formally.

“Sir, may I introduce the Lady Ryu Hwa Jin, wife of Ryu Ho Seon. She will see to you whilst you await Master Ryu’s return.”

“Pleasure to meet you. My name is Kim Tae Hyung, Head of the Department of Justice.”

The maid gave a bow, and shuffled away, leaving Ki Wan quaking with fear.

Ki Wan gave a polite bow, then turned for Tae Hyung to follow him through the courtyard. Ki Wan kept his head low and turned away from the man, silently praying for Ho Seon’s speedy return.

Ki wan showed Tae Hyung to the guest room, a simple room with a large reception area and a small alcove for bedding to the side. They rarely used it, but it was the most appropriate space for the man to be received, and for him to meet with Ho Seon if it were for business. Tae Hyung sat down at the table, and Ki Wan waited silently at the door for the maid to bring tea. Ki Wan was on edge, waiting for the man to speak. But he sat quietly, and Ki Wan continued to stare at his own feet.

Finally, the maid arrived with a tray of tea, which she placed on the table before leaving again. Ki Wan took a deep breath to steady himself, then went about serving the tea. He focused on his hands, looking down at the table, he poured two cups and handed one politely to the gentleman. As he did so, their hand touched, and Ki Wan wondered if it had been intentional on Tae Hyung’s part – as if he was trying to incite some sort of a reaction from Ki Wan – the kind of small gesture that might fluster a particularly prudish, gentle, or chaste young lady. Ki Wan made no reaction, and sipped his own tea. Then he sat back on his heels, placed his hands in his lap and waited. All the while, repeating the same mantra in his mind; ‘Ho Seon come back. Ho Seon come back. Ho Seon come back…’

“Unseasonably cold today wouldn’t you agree Lady Ryu?”

Ki Wan nodded.

“A bit cold for a swim, wouldn’t you agree?”

He knew.

Ki Wan was petrified, unmoving. What had he seen? There was something sinister behind his light tone. Ki Wan was sure he knew.

Tae Hyung placed his cup down on the table and leant forward. He brought his hand up to Ki Wan’s face, grabbed his chin and forced Ki Wan to look up at him.

Ki Wan could feel himself losing control of his fear, his neck and ears felt flushed, he was gritting his teeth so hard it was nearly audible, and he could feel tears beginning to well in his eyes. This was it, he was finished. This was not his kind husband finding out the truth, this was a powerful military man who probably had deeply strict Confucius values.

He examined Ki Wan’s face carefully, and looked almost pleased with himself.

“Hmmm… utterly convincing. But how odd. What’s a pretty young boy like you doing parading around as a noble woman?” He sounded amused, like this was all a fun game. Ki Wan was gripping his skirt tightly, and felt bile rising up in his throat.

Just then, Ki Wan heard the sound of approaching footsteps in the courtyard, and Tae Hyung calmly pulled his hand away – like he wasn’t at all bothered by the thought of being caught touching another man’s wife. Ki wan had never met someone so self-assured in their own sense of power.

Ki Wan heard Ho Seon enter the room from behind him.

“Ah! Kim Tae Hyung! I wasn’t expecting you. Sorry I had business in town. How have you been?” He sat himself down beside Ki Wan, and began to pour himself some tea.

“I’m well, thank you. I’ve been travelling the country on some royal errands. I heard you were getting married, I was so sorry I couldn’t attend.”

“Ahh, not to worry!” Ho Seon responded brightly, “It was a small wedding, just family really.”

Ho Seon’s exuberance and cheerful voice, which Ki Wan usually found so comforting, was like the sound of grinding metal in its contrast to Ki Wan’s mood and the tension of the room. Ki Wan was still fraught with anxiety and fear and felt like he was suffocating.

“I never pegged you as the marrying type” Tae Hyung began, “What changed?”

“My mother’s getting older, I guess she wanted a daughter to keep her company, and she was determined to see me settle down and have a family.”

“Oh?” Tae Hyung looked amused over his cup of tea, “Any luck so far?”

“Tae Hyung!” Ho Seon chastised half-heartedly. It was clear to Ki Wan that they were old friends, perhaps from school, Ho Seon’s easy manner and informal speech made that obvious. But Tae Hyung was fishing for information, trying to figure out if Ho Seon knew his wife’s secret – but his subtle jibes at Ki Wan were going completely unnoticed by Ho Seon.

“Tell me, where did you find such a beauty? I’ve never met another woman like her.” He looked directly at Ki Wan, with a smirk that, to Ho Seon, must have seemed like flirting – but to Ki Wan felt more like a threat.

Ho Seon followed Tae Hyung’s gaze, and for the first time since entering the room, finally looked at his wife. His smile quickly faded.

“Hwa Jin! Are you okay?” He sat up to attention. He reached across her skirts, and put his hands over Ki Wan’s. “You’re freezing!” He held Ki Wan’s hands tighter and gave them a squeeze.

“I believe your wife went for a dip in the nearby spring whilst you were out.”

Ho Seon lifted a hand to the back of Ki Wan’s neck, checking the temperature of his skin, he touched Ki Wan’s hair.

“You’re soaking wet!” He sounded genuinely concerned. But Ki Wan had barely noticed the damp seeping through his clothes. He was shivering from nerves not the cold.

“Hwa Jin, why don’t you go and get changed and get warm. I will get the maid to bring you some dinner.” He gave Ki Wan’s hands another squeeze, and prompted her to get up.

Ki Wan wandering aimlessly back to their bridal house as night began to fall around him. Should he have left Ho Seon alone with Tae Hyung, what if he told him the truth? What were Tae Hyung’s intentions? What was Ki Wan’s plan? He needed a plan. But he couldn’t think. He was still reeling from the shock of his encounter with Tae Hyung and as the night fell and the temperature dropped, he did begin to deeply feel the cold of his damp clothes.

He arrived back at their room, where he quickly tended to the fire under the house. Inside he lit a candle and began undressing. He hung up his wet dress and put on new under-dress. He was still freezing. He began to put on all the jackets and outwear he could find, then got under the covers of the bed.

Maybe he should leave? Run away into the night. What if Tae Hyung had him arrested, as a fraud or a pervert? What if he turned Ho Seon against him? But where would he go? Run away into the woods to starve or freeze to death? Before he could think of a plan, his eyes became heavy and he submitted to sleep.

He was awoken by Ho Seon gently shaking his shoulder.

“Hwa Jin. Hwa Jin. Wake up, have something to eat.”

At first Ki Wan thought it was morning, but the room was still dark and Ho Seon was still dressed.

“There’s some dinner here for you, you should eat something.”

Ki Wan begrudgingly sat up, his neck felt stiff and he was sweating under too many layers of clothing.

“Why are you wearing all my clothes?” Ho Seon laughed.

“I was cold.” Ki Wan drowsily answered.

“Mmhm”. Ho Seon nodded. He seemed himself. Not angry or scared. Tae Hyung must not have told him. Somehow, that make Ki Wan more unsettled. If he was keeping Ki Wan’s secret, was he planning on using it against him? A high-up military man, he could easily be the type of person to collect people’s secrets and use them to his advantage. This was Ki Wan’s crossroads, the illusion he had created for himself was finally shattered and he would have to make a decision. He would have to tell Ho Seon the truth.

Ki Wan starting shaking off the layers of jackets he was wearing, leaving a trial of clothes behind him on the floor as he went to join Ho Seon at the table.

“Wait.” Ho Seon stood up. Ki Wan froze. Ho Seon began approaching him.

“Your hair is still wet.” He said. Ki Wan sighed in relief.

“Oh.” He was still so drowsy, his limps felt heavy. He felt back to his wet bun – no wonder he had been so cold. He took out the pin and untied the ribbons. He rummaged around the dresser for a brush.

“Come here” Ho Seon plied, “You really need to eat something, you’re already so skinny – how can you go all day without eating. Mother said you were out half the day.”

Ki Wan sat down in front of the table and let Ho Seon take the brush from him. He slowly started picking at the food, but could barely stomach anything.

Ho Seon sat behind him, and began slowly brushing out his hair. It was a nice feeling. And Ki Wan almost began to fall asleep again.

“Tae Hyung spoke to me.” Ho Seon began softly. Ki Wan snapped back to attention, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Mmm?”

“He has a position for me in his department. He wants me to take it, and move to the capital.”

Ki Wan tried not to react. Ho Seon attentively kept brushing his hair, in long careful strokes down his back.

“Oh?”

“I told him I couldn’t take it. That my mother is too sick, and that you are just getting used to life here. But he said it was “of national importance”. I think things in the court are bad. He says he needs “allies”, whatever that means. I don’t want to go. I hate all the politics of court and I am perfectly happy living here. But he can be…. well, he is a difficult man to refuse – he’s powerful and … he said that it was really more of an order than a request.” He sighed.

“He said you would come with me of course, that we would be given housing at court. I am just sorry that you will have to move again. You just got settled here, and I don’t know what my mother will do without us – but she can’t make that journey she’s far too frail…”

He was rambling now, caught up in the rhythmic task of brushing Ki Wan’s hair, he was letting his own anxieties come tumbling out in a string of thoughts and apologies. Ki Wan had not seen him this anxious since their wedding night. He lifted a hand to stop the brush in Ho Seon’s hand, and turned to face him, their knees touching slightly.

Ki Wan had grown to love this space, their evenings together. In this candlelit cave that was theirs, where it was quiet and just the two of them. He knew he was about to ruin that forever.

Ki Wan took a deep breath.

“Ho Seon. I have something to tell you.”

TBC (Other parts here)

Authors Notes:

Yeah, sorry, trigger warning I guess? I made Tae Hyung a creep for added drama, cause every good Joseon drama has to have an evil antagonist.

And I hope you enjoyed my blatant references; to a certain natural spring in cloud recess and a little hair brushing reference to the gayest scene to ever pass chinese censorship.

Hope you enjoyed!

#trigger warning: the military 'friend' is now a creep cause I love drama #nobleman ryu's wedding #nobleman ryus wedding #choi ki wan #ryu ho seon #kdrama fic #bl fic #bl series #korean bl #wetv #Lee Sejin #kang insoo

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enha-woodzies · 4 years ago

Text

➸ CHAPTER 9 | " THE SPACE BETWEEN US "

starring: enhypen ft. i-land daniel

pairing: jungwon x fem!reader x sunghoon

genres: royal au, romance, angst, slowburn, 18th century setting

warnings: very mild swearing; brief arguments

word count: 2.5k

taglist: @serendipitysung (betareader) @en-sun @affectionaterainoflove @renkiv @softforjungwoo @jislix @gyeraniee @fluffi @stxrryemxlys @jungwon-luv-bot-pt3 @lost-lepord-beanie @hyunsunge @hooniecore @thenoceurgirl @thonkingdeepo

[ PREV. CHAPTER ] | [ M. LIST ] | [ NEXT CHAPTER ]

START OF PARK SUNGHOON'S POV

I stood there at the side, leaning against the arched entrance. I never meant to eavesdrop in the conversation you were having with the firstborn of the Yang family. It piqued my interest upon hearing your troubles and impulsively decided to help you. To pass time, I guess… or to stall my father into giving me his magnificent title of a duke and have me marry some lady I don’t even desire to have.

Without any significant bargain in the offer, I suggested anyway with the thought that maybe this could help me look at myself the way everyone did before I made history with your brother. The physical bruises and scars we both afflicted on each other faded with time, but the torturous memory continues to haunt us. I may look fine around his presence, but he never had the slightest idea of how I curse myself every single night knowing I not only ruined him and his tender affections with Yena, but our budding and steadfast friendship as well.

I was heinous then. But I swear with my whole heart, I don’t ever intend to hurt you now the way I did with your brother. The moment I let myself drown in your alluring gaze under that brightly lit moonlight, I told myself I won’t take another girl for granted. Not just because I owe it to Niki, but because you were the first person who looked at me without judgment despite knowing your brothers detest me with the entirety of their souls.

I’ve been courting you for over a month now and I’m completely aware of the things we’ve agreed upon about the ruse; needless to say, one might catch feelings in the aftermath. I know this was all a show to give Jungwon a headstart for his own game, but why am I gravely pained every time his name slips out of your lips? Why do I keep myself up on most nights thinking about this lingering question of who do you love? Why do I want to hold you even closer to my side every time he looks at us in dismay?

I’ve come to know that I had myself caught in the middle of whatever this is between you and him; that I’m just the fuel to the fire that’s already been there, left neglected within time. But I can’t help but feel like I need to protect you from him; from whatever hurt he might cause you over time. Although I know my place in all of this and where I stand, it still stings thinking that it isn’t in your heart.

Why would it be, anyway? I’m only just a page you couldn’t keep; a filler in your romantic novel who had the part of the villain origin story but couldn’t fight your hopeless hero. Sadly, Jungwon’s five steps ahead of me. So much for telling the ton there was us in the making, but you weren’t even mine to begin with.

Your mother invited me and the Yang family for dinner a sennight ago. She said it was to properly introduce me as your husband-to-be to your family, that includes your lover’s sitting across the table discussing the recent blow from the Daily Tattle, which was, of course, us.

“Jungwon, dear, have you wished your friend, Y/n, luck on her future wedding with the duke-to-be? Need I remind you that she’s going to need some of it from her best friends.” Lady Yang gently nudged her son who was busy tapping his spoon and fork upon the table. “Jungwon here is finally courting someone, have you heard of that, dear? Lady Choi, daughter of the-”

“The ever famous cheese merchant of our city, Viscount Choi, whom without, we wouldn’t be eating this opulent cheese on the table right this very moment.” I finished, which made the two mothers impressively smile in my direction. Realizing how uncomfortable you become at the very slightest mention of Jungwon’s new lover, I figured butting in could end your agony; seeing that your man is stupid enough to not read the situation in front of him. He seemed more occupied with the utensils than your disheartened state.

As predicted, you excused yourself, and it went without saying that Jungwon followed after you as you rushed out the dining hall and out to your garden. Your brothers and his soon left the hall and went with their casual discourse on the parlor, leaving his and your mother exchanging wedding plans with the company of champagne bottles and cheese. I held my head up high as I walked into the library to reflect on matters that kept me wondering at night. Until Niki strode in, with a pocket watch in hand.

“Riki, I’m-”

“Save your breath, Your Grace. You’re going to need it in case you piss the hell out of Jungwon and he lands his knuckles on your pretty face again.”

“Why don’t you do it then? Can’t get your hands dirty for your sister yet you can for Yena?”

“Do not fucking tempt me, Sunghoon.”

“Too bad. I’d love to see you try, though.”

“And I’d love to see your little mouth shut, Your Grace. You’re impressive, but I’m sure you’ve always been told that. For a moment there you really had me thinking you were about to apologize to my brother. Turns out you’re still the coward that you’ve always been.” Jay walked in unannounced, slightly scaring me. He’s like a lion ready to hunt for prey, even though he’d just sit there looking unbothered. I’ve always deemed your eldest brother with veneration. All I did was drop my head low when he threw me those harsh words, though I completely agree as they embody me in so many ways possible. I hate it.

“A wedding, huh? Don’t you think you’re going too far, already? This ruse is nothing but a shame to both our families. Heed me while I’m asking you nicely to end this foolishness you’ve invoked on our sister.”

“Forgive me… but I’m afraid I can’t.”

Fortunately, Niki was quick enough to grab a hold of Jay when he was about to come at me. I must say this now before it’s too late, and better be in front of your brothers than your lover.

“I will take full responsibility for Y/n. I will be a man of worth to her and a word of honor, I will end any future causes of grievances upon us both. I will protect her from it, just as I’m doing now.”

“You’re doing nothing but stall her from her fate with Jungwon!”

“And how do you know she still cares for him? Haven’t you seen the look on your dear sister’s face whenever Jungwon’s name is brought up? Haven’t you seen that man strolling around the town with a fancy girl in hand a week after breaking your sister’s heart? I thought so. But you just want things to go your way. I’ll respect that. For now.”

I dashed out of the library after giving them a piece of my mind. Though I had planned to apologize to Niki, Jay’s words got the best of me. I headed towards the garden to look for you, but before I could have your attention, Jungwon already did.

END OF PARK SUNGHOON’S POV

Jungwon rushed to the garden, following Y/n’s quick pace in an attempt to block out any possible thoughts about her lover. Basking under the bright moonlight, Jungwon grabbed her by the wrist, making her turn and crash against his jabot-clad chest.

“Y/n, please-”

“Really, Jung? God! You totally had me fooled that day when I thought we were having a moment!”

“We did! But-”

“But what? You can’t hold yourself accountable for the things you left me with so you squander your way with another lady? Tough blow, don’t you think?”

“Please, Y/n, I just need you to listen to me and-”

“I’m tired, Jung. All these years, you let me wait for you for five years just to have you run back and hurt me again. I’m tired of you making a fool out of me, and I’m dumb enough to always let you. Because I love you. I love you so much, it fucking hurts. I have so much love for you yet here you are, always welcoming me with fleeting bliss and leaving me with endless torment. But the damage has been done and I’m out. I love you, but I guess I’m going to have to leave it like this.”

“You still do?”

“God! I poured out my heart for you and all you could say was that? Jung, how can you be so dense?! I wouldn’t have let you hold me that day in the forest if I don’t love you! I asked you for a new start but you ran off and a week later you’re traipsing around Northumberland with Lady Choi! Right in front of me!”

“You were with that man that day too, in front of me! You look at him with so much admiration with your hand hanging on his arm. How do you think that made me feel?!”

“More than the damage you did to me? What a load of nonsense, Jung! And here I thought you already knew that Sunghoon and I were just fooling around to get to you.”

“Well, I’m here now, Y/n! I’m all yours now!”

“No, you’re not. You just can’t bear the truth that you lost me to him. At the end of the day, it will always be your pride. It always has been. I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I’m apologizing but I still will. This ends here, Jung. I wish you well.”

The entire time that Y/n and the young lord were arguing out the garden, Jay and Niki were carefully listening from the library’s window; Niki figured it was finally time to spill the truth to his sister.

Niki followed Y/n to her room, taking note of the soft sobs and sniffles she emitted. She turned around when she felt her brother’s footsteps trailing after her.

“Riki…” Niki was suddenly enclosed by Y/n’s tight embrace, dampening his jabot shirt with her tears. He returned the warm hug as he gently rubs her corseted back, feeling the constant huffs from her crying.

“I’m sorry about Jungwon.”

“He doesn’t deserve me.” The lady muffled against her brother’s chest.

“Maybe you’re right. And neither does Sunghoon. Listen, Sister. There’s something I need to get off my chest. Come.” The two entered the lady’s room and Niki carefully shut the door tight, locking it in the process. He sat atop the neatly arranged bed while patting the space next to him, gesturing Y/n to sit closer to his side.

“Jay isn’t happy with the sudden announcement of your engagement, and neither am I. But always know that I will always have your back, just like how you always have mine. I’ve seen how Sunghoon made you smile and laugh like how you used to with Jungwon back in the day. This day feared me but we’re here now, and I must tell you the reason why we’re all against him courting you in the first place.”

“Remember Yena? The girl I told you about in the letters? Sunghoon… he deceived her. He made her cheat against me, fed her with lies, and tricked her into thinking our love was nothing but a hoax. I saw them one day in his father’s garden, I followed them, curious enough to see how he made her happier than when she was with me. Until he kissed her. He took her first kiss when I thought we’d be sharing it with each other. And she kissed him back... like I wasn’t even someone to reckon with. Needless to say, I attacked him. The boys went against him afterward. Jungwon was there too. With all the lies he wired into her brain, Yena never looked at me the same after that day. And the many days that followed. She and Sunghoon just suddenly stopped seeing after the fight that erupted between us.”

“The thing was, sister, Sunghoon never loved her. He was young and didn’t want to let the opportunity pass, that’s what he told us when I had his collar by my clutch. That was the only excuse he could ever give us. The asshole that he is.” Niki clicks his tongue while dropping his head low, gaze fixed on the carpeted area on the floor across them. “Fuck. I would still have Yena if he didn’t try to treat things like we were playing a game of who could get the girl first. Thinking about the time he wasted on nothing genuine, Yena could have spent it on me instead and I would have had her here, introduced to Mother and the ton.”

Y/n placed a hand on her brother’s closed, shaky fists. Niki let out soft sniffles, trying his best to keep himself from cracking. “I’m sorry, Riki, I didn’t know. He told me it was all in the past and that he desires to make amends now.” Niki jerks up, eyes fixed on his sister’s eyes. “You’ve only heard his point of view, you never heard mine. Sunghoon’s made a whole record in university, Y/n. He goes around the grounds breaking hearts like he owns them. Girls would swoon over him and he would gladly oblige. What an ambitious, cunning little prick. And now he has you wrapped around his fingers, the same way he did to Yena.”

“I’m sure he means no harm now, brother. He’s been nothing but kind and gentle to me. He makes me utterly happy; the part of my romantic story where I used to want Jungwon to be consistent of.”

“You know, I’ve always been considerate of your choices and aspirations, sister. But I will not lose you to Sunghoon like this. I’m afraid Jay and I will have to be very uptight with you seeing him from now on. I’m sure by now you’ve come to understand why Jungwon’s scared of surrendering you to him. He means well, sis, Jungwon…”

“I will not settle for someone whom I have to spend a lifetime second-guessing whether he wants me in his life or not.”

“But he’s been missing you a lot lately, hasn’t he?”

“I’m afraid him missing me is far too different from him wanting to marry me.”

Niki only sighs before planting a soft kiss on his sister’s temple and fixing his fit to present himself back to the lobby. Y/n was left in her room, fidgeting with her fingers while anxiously biting her bottom lip in deep contemplation.

Sunghoon may have stolen her attention from Jungwon, but she had to admit, she never regretted it. She has felt safe with Sunghoon the past months they’ve been together. Jungwon did nothing but torture her constantly with every chance he got. Although they hadn’t been sticking around their ruse’s ground rules lately, she feared the time between her and Sunghoon would be up soon and she wouldn’t feel his comforting presence around her anymore.

Sunghoon may have gotten her used to their dilly-dallying that time apart from each other could make her feel miserable. Not to mention the embarrassment that would come with it considering she is foretold to be Northumberland’s next duchess after all.

*send me an ask or a message if you wish to be added on this series' taglist!

ㅡ © ENHA-WOODZIES, 2021

#kpopscape #enhypenwriters #enhypennetwork #neothestars #of lords & mischiefs #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen fics #enhypen series #enhypen jungwon #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen niki #iland daniel

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ellewords · 4 years ago

Note

akaashi is the guy at weddings who is just there to be supportive of their friend/family getting married but somehow becomes the guy every great aunt is trying to set their niece/nephew up with. he’s normally at his table talking to any friend that ends up walking by, but he gets up one time to go get a drink and that’s all anyone needs to lock their sights on him. despite how awkward it is to have a bunch of older women come up to him with a person around his age in tow hoping that they’ll hit it off, he is always super polite and offers to entertain the idea for at least a dance so the great aunt will get off of their back.

normally, he’ll get them a drink first (not necessarily alcoholic) to ease some of the tension and tries to get to know them a bit. as soon as a new song starts, he takes them on the dance floor and he leads them in a dance. he’s surprisingly really good at dancing, and he’s super good at making his partner look just as amazing, so they tend to be the focus of everyone around them. he doesn’t let his partner focus on the extra eyes, though; instead he either hums the song so they have something to hone in on or he talks about how good they look. it’s a plus if he can get them to blush because it makes him smile and then they end up blushing even more and he laughs and it’s a great time.

by the end of the song, he walks them back to their seat and talks for a little bit more so he can get a feel for how they’re doing. they’re normally giddy and giggling just a tiny bit, and that makes him really happy. with a mention of how much fun he had with them, he finally steps away and suddenly there’s someone that’s fallen at least a tiny bit in love with him left behind.

he really just wants to sit down and talk to some friends again in a space where he doesn’t have to be a heightened version of himself, but normally there is already another great aunt trying to set up some person they know after seeing his previous display. if he ever wants to get time to himself and friends, he has to physically leave the reception venue and stand outside where no one will look for them. he gets teased a lot for being so popular, but his friends are just happy that he’s having fun and being seen as too awkward to talk to. whenever a younger girl (below 18) comes up to him with the ridiculous amount of confidence that they all seem to have, though, he can expect a lot of teasing. he always humors the girls (platonically, obviously) and takes them to have their one dance, but he makes it very clear that nothing is going to happen. they always pour and whine, but he still makes sure they have a good time.

— from elle ! my soft spot for akaashi really jumped out in this hc >_< and listen...if i wasn’t interested in akaashi myself, i'd want to set him up with everyone i know too !! and you’re right that he’d be an absolute gentleman about it *sighs* someone set him up with me,, i want a wedding meet cute too :)) anyways, thank you so much for sending this in. i'm leaving my lil scenario feat. yn inspired by your hcs under the cut :>> i hope you’re having a wonderful day ! <3

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

“hiding from the pushy aunts?”

akaashi had his back against a wall when he hears a voice coming from beside him, calm and confident with just the slightest hints of a smirk. a thin layer of cold sweat drips down the side of his forehead, the erratic beating of his heat a stark contrast to the gentle melodies played by the wedding band.

he turns to face you, clearly shocked at the sudden presence. you shake your head at the startled look that crossed his features, the clear confusion that flashed across his eyes. it not like he wasn’t flattered by all the attention, it was just too much. he never really got used to it.

akaashi nodded, finally answering your question, yet still on the lookout for anyone who might be looking for him.

you smiled, admiring the way the dim fairly lights that hung low from the ceiling danced across his skin, “i get it.”

akaashi tilted his head to the side, brows furrowing at the quiet confidence you exuded. had he met you before? he couldn’t have possibly, he certainly would have remembered you. “what do you mean?”

“would you believe me if i told you that i was hiding from them too?”

his gaze briefly flickers along your figure, at your perfectly styled outfit, the permanently etched smile, the warmth in your eyes, the genuinely comforting presence, the ease and lightness in the tone of your voice. yeah, he definitely believed you.

“who are they trying to set you up with?”

you shake your head, tilting your head towards the man who drunkenly danced across the middle of the reception hall, akaashi’s gaze following along. a slight frown moves to his lips, him? surely there must be someone better

“best man.” you sighed, bringing your attention back to the man beside you, looking somewhat impressed when the man on the dance floor succeeded at his attempt at a split.

“he seems fun though.” akaashi commented, and you’re not exactly sure if he was being genuine or serious.

“i think i saw him around here. you should meet this young man, akaashi, he’d be perfect for your daughter.”

the speed in which akaashi hid behind you, placing shaky hands on your shoulders as he ducked his head down, was enough to make you burst out laughing. but you kept your cool, biting your lip as you watched the pair of older women walk past — not even sparing you a glance.

“what would you say to a little proposition?”

in between trying to hide from the very pushy groom and the determined best man, you were able to catch multiple glances at akaashi. you saw the way he had danced with several people, keeping a significant amount of distance, just enough to keep it polite. you saw the smile on his face as he introduced himself, calm and respectful, but clearly wanting to be elsewhere. you would know, you wore a similar one to almost every single wedding you attended.

“what kind of proposition?”

“dance with me. for the rest of the night.”

akaashi steps back, surprised by your candor. his hands have left your shoulders and now placed at his sides, looking at you like you had somehow grown two heads.

“they’re not going to set us up with anyone if we’re already clearly with someone else.” you elaborated, the smallest amounts of mischief in your smile, clearly impressed with your little plan.

he nods to himself, surprised that he’s actually considering it. certainly, it did make a whole lot of sense. no one would possibly cut in on him clearly enjoying the night with someone else. and it helps that you’re cute, and you seem to be a decent conversationalist — the chances of him getting bored or tired would be zero to none. and he also sees the desperation in your eyes, the kind that certainly matched the one in his.

akaashi stares at your outstretched hand, inviting him to take it. and he does, feeling how soft and warm your skin felt against his.

“alright, let’s do it.”

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

a question: what would the hq characters be like at a wedding? | written on the margins masterlist

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky_29 @sakusasimpbot

join my hq taglist here. <3

#the way i kind of want to turn this into a full fic #written on the margins 🔖#akaashi x reader #akaashi imagines #akaashi scenarios #akaashi headcanons #🎐 — anon! <3

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batgurl1989 · 4 years ago

Text

A Wolf in Toussaint Chapter Four

Summary: Geralt and You meet with the Duchess and go shopping in Beauclair

Word Count: 2828

Warnings: spoilers

A/N: this has not been proofread, so all the mistakes are my own. Tag list is open.

Taglist: @rmtndew @djinny-djin-djin @seanh-boredom @princesssterek @henrynerdfan @cynic-spirit @daddys-littlewhitegirl @diegos-butt @lharrietg

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five

When you had arrived at the palace, an attendant had shown you and Geralt to a wide balcony where lunch had been set up on a table. The Duchess was waiting, drumming her fingers on the table, a look of displeasure marring her face.

You had tried to be respectful and hurry over to the table, but your gaze got caught on the stunning view. From this height, Toussaint stretched out before you, the sun dappled the vineyard covered slopes. The sparkling rivers and lakes dazzled like gems tucked into the green blanket. It was such a contrast to Velen, and you found you couldn't stop staring.

Geralt's hand felt warm on your lower back as he guided you to the table. Your eyes snapped to the Duchess when you found yourself standing before her. A blush crept up your neck, painting your cheeks red. You weren't usually like this. You took in the Duchess and her elegant dress. Her chestnut hair was coiffed with a tiny tiara perched atop her head. You shuffled your feet, feeling underdressed for this meeting. You hadn't had time after being in awe of the city to stop for new boots, so you had to keep wearing your old ones. You were positive that your outfit screamed you had been on the road for many days.

"Duchess Anna Henrietta, this is Younin of Velen." Geralt covered for you. You were never comfortable giving people of great authority your full title as it raised more questions than you were willing to answer. Only a select few outside the Lodge knew your title, and you planned to keep it that way.

"You cannot stay here, Geralt." The Duchess practically growled from her seat across the table. Sitting back, she took a deep breath, fighting to be calm. She clenched and un-clenched her fists, resting her hands on the table. "I'm sorry, Geralt. But you being here has raised too many alarms."

"What alarms?" Geralt took the liberty of sitting in one of the chairs at the table. He gestured for you to sit as well, but didn't take his eyes off the Duchess.

"Word has followed you here from Novigrad." The Duchess aggressively slathered her bread in a pat of butter. Her eyes flicked to you before she turned her full attention back to the Witcher. "The King of Beggars is searching for Younin, and there is a hefty reward for information about her."

Your body jolted at this piece of news. So much had happened since the Vegelbud wedding, and even though you had questions, you thought you were safe in Toussaint while you recovered. Luck did not seem to be on your side, though, if the Duchess's word was to be trusted. At least you knew the news was shocking for Geralt as you watched his knuckles go white as he gripped his armrest tightly.

"Do you know what he wants with me?" Your voice sounded small, and perhaps a little frightened. Since the end of the war, people left you alone for the most part. Certainly no one wanted your head anymore. So what could the King want?

"There was not a lot of information on the wanted poster I saw, but he is willing to pay quite a high price for your whereabouts." The Duchess looked at you, sympathy swirling in her eyes. "So again, you cannot stay here. I love my people, but who knows what one is willing to do when offered that kind of money? People cannot be trusted."

"Very true." You admitted with a nod. You looked down at your hands in your lap, picking at your cuticle. You hated knowing that you were causing trouble simply by being there. "Perhaps I should head back to Velen. Back to the Inn. I can hide there."

"Not an option." Geralt was shaking his head before I had finished. "You don't know that he won't be waiting for you at the Inn, and if I go with you, it would draw attention. If I don't go with you, you will be a sitting duck."

"I'm not powerless." Anger flashed through me. I hated that I was once a powerful sorceress in the Lodge, and now, because I was out of practice, I was seen as weak. I could only imagine how Yennefer saw me now. "What other option do we have right now? We can't hide here, we can't go to Novigrad or Velen. Where am I supposed to go? If the King can reach Toussaint, I have no doubt he can reach Skellige."

"I am sorry to do this to you. I wish Toussaint could hide you." The Duchess sounded genuine as she leaned forward, reaching for you to offer some comfort. "In a land full of knights-errant, you would think we could be trusted to keep a secret, but that is simply not the case."

"I understand." And you really did understand, but it sucked either way. Chewing on the inside of your lip, you mind ran through your vastly dwindling options. Your eyes met Geralt's. "Maybe we should head back to Corvo Bianco, and talk to Yen? She might know where I can hide until we figure out our next move."

"I insist you stay for lunch. It's the least I can do after kicking you out of Toussaint." The Duchess's demeanor changed as she flashed a beautiful smile at both you and Geralt. "After all, I did have the palace chef make this wonderful spread for us."

"We wouldn't want it to go to waste." Geralt gave in much to your surprise. If you had been anywhere else, he would have waved away the request and set off on the quest. Your eyes flicked between the Witcher and the Duchess, trying to figure out what hold she may have on him.

"You can regale me with your recent adventures." The Duchess seemed pleased as she began serving herself from the multitude of platters and dishes spread across the table between you. She paused, a sandwich inches from being placed on her plate. A distressed look flitted across her face. "I hope you haven't come across any vampires."

"None that I couldn't handle." Geralt assured her, placed his hand over her free one.

The gesture seemed innocent enough, but the flare of jealous that ignited in you was anything but. You forced yourself to look away as your magic automatically came to life in your palms. You weren't even sure what element you were drawing, and inviting that chaos into you was dangerous. To distract yourself, you got up from the table and wandered over to the railing. Looking out over the fantastical land seemed to calm you, and you felt you could breathe again.

Dimly, you were aware of Geralt giving a play by play of your journey here. The Duchess was fully enthralled with the fight, adding gasps at all the appropriate spots. If you didn't know any better, you would say she was acting, but looking at her, she seemed genuine.

*************

"So next time we are going to meet with a Duchess, warn me if I need to dress up, please." You whispered as you left the palace. Your horses were waiting at the bottom of the steps to take you back to Corvo Bianco. As beautiful as everything was, you couldn't wait to leave the opulence behind.

"What do you mean?" Geralt's eyes slowly trailed over your body, taking in your outfit. Your cheeks warmed as his gaze felt like a physical touch.

Clearing your throat, you mentally shook yourself. You were glad you had reached the horses, and busied yourself with adjusting the girth. Gathering the reins in one hand, you sprang into the saddle without the help the groom was offering you. It felt good to be back in the saddle again. You had felt extremely out of place in the palace, like your rightful place was on horseback.

"Younin." Geralt's low voice rumbled through the space between you. You knew what he was asking, but didn't know if you could explain in a way the Witcher would understand.

"I just wasn't dressed properly. Toussaint is a far cry from Velen and Novigrad. Even Skellige." You settled for the simplest form of what you were feeling. Geralt may not feel the same about meeting royalty, but you were sure he could at least see where you were coming from. "It just would have been nice to at been dressed like I belonged."

"But you don't belong here." Geralt's words cut through you. Seeing the hurt that flashed in your eyes, he pressed on. "Palaces aren't for people like you and me. If they were, you would still be at court working for a king or queen. You belong out in the world, not sequestered in some stuffy throne room."

His words warmed your heart. Court life had never been for you, that's why you left it behind for a life as an herbalist, pedaling your magic on the side. You offered Geralt a small smile, trying to convey what his words meant to you. The Witcher nodded, turning his horse on to the road out of the palace.

"I'm sorry your idea for hiding out here didn't work out." You wanted to reach for him, to offer him comfort. You had no idea what your next move was going to be. Unless you and Geralt stuck to the Path, and kept moving. But with how the King operated, you figured he would catch up to you eventually.

"Let's worry about getting you new boots before we worry about the King. Nothing can be decided before we get back to Corvo Bianco." Geralt offered you a quick, rare smile. It seemed like he was looking forward to buying you new things, but you knew that couldn't be right. This was Geralt.

"It's my own fault, really. I got so caught up in the wonders of this city, that we ran out of time." You mentally had been kicking yourself about it the whole lunch. On the flip side, you wouldn't have done anything different if given the chance. You adored the sights and sounds of this city, and couldn't wait to relish in them again.

"Come. I know exactly where we will get you boots." Geralt turned his horse down a side street. Up ahead you could hear the clamour of an outdoor market. Light music was playing, and you could hear people singing.

"Where are you taking me? To a fair or to a market?" You jested, but the atmosphere was getting to you again. A smile lit up your face as the music drew you in. The closer you got, the more elated you became.

"In Beauclair, they are one and the same." Geralt flashed you another smile. Something about this place was bringing out a side of him you didn't normally get to see.

When you reached the centre of Hauteville, you found all sorts of upper class citizens mingling about as artists and merchants sold their wares along the side of the street and out of store fronts. Geralt and you tied off your horses near a fountain, and began to wander. So many things caught your eye. You weren't one who normally like jewelry, but the pieces here made even your eye covetous.

"This way." Geralt guided you with a hand on your lower back toward a stain glassed store front. Through the coloured window, you could see shoes and boots on display. "After you."

Geralt pulled the door open for you, but the angle was awkward and you had to duck under his arm. Passing this close to his body only made you realize that it had been so long since you two had had a moment alone that you weren't rushing off somewhere or injured. A heat blazed in Geralt's golden depths, letting you know he was having similar thoughts. You bit your lower lip, trying to squash those thoughts since you were in public.

Once in side, the comforting scent of leather wafted around you. It reminded you of riding across Velen and Toussaint, of the scent Geralt had when he cleaned his armour. Closing your eyes briefly, you took a deep breath, letting the calm it brought wash over you. But then you opened your eyes, taking in all the beautiful footwear surrounding you.

"Are you sure these aren't art?" You gasped, whispering to Geralt. You didn't want to ruin someone's artwork with weeks on the road. Geralt laughed, but before he could say anything, the shop owner came bustling over.

"Ah, I see the lady has an appreciative eye. You humble me, my lady." The shopkeep gave you both a slight bow, a wide smile plastered on his face. If he noticed the state of your clothes and boots, he didn't let on, which you did appreciate.

"I seem to have wrecked my pair of boots, but I don't know if I can buy any of these. They are all too beautiful for what I need." You gestured to the shoes on the display nearest you.

"What is the point of a good shoe if it won't be worn?" The shopkeep waved away your concern, taking your hand in both of his to lead you to a padded stool. "Come. Come. Let me see if we can't find you something you will adore."

Geralt stood behind your shoulder, his arms crossed as he watched the shopkeep bring you pair after pair of shoes and ankle boots. None of them seems quite right to you, though. Every once in a while he would let out a sound you could only describe as a rumble, and you knew he agreed that they weren't the right shoes for you. All the shoes were ridiculously beautiful, but none of them would serve you well on the road.

"Do you have anything in a knee high?" You ventured to ask after turning down what felt like the twentieth pair of shoes. You didn't like feeling like a burden, but with each pair you dismissed, the guilt formed a larger ball in the pit of your stomach.

"Ah! I have just the thing!" The shopkeep announced after thinking for a moment. The elation on his face eased the guilt a bit, and you hoped this pair was going to be it.

Your eyes lit up when he brought you a pair of knee high boots. The leather had been tanned an unique reddish brown. The fur lining let you know that they would be warm, which was perfect for the road, especially up North. You stroked the laces that ran up the whole length of the boot. As beautiful as these boots were, you weren't afraid to wear them on the road.

"They are perfect." Your eyes traced over them again. You watched as the shopkeep undid the laces before handing them to you. You slide your feet into them, tightening the laces. They fit perfectly. "These are the boots."

"How much?" Geralt directed his question to the shopkeep before you could ask. You opened your mouth to protest, but a stern look from Geralt kept you silent.

You looked down at your new boots to hide the blushing smile on your face. A warm feeling stretched out from your chest, filling your limbs all the way to your fingers and toes. It felt strange to have Geralt buy things for you when you were perfectly capable of buying them yourself. It was a nice feeling, but you weren't accustomed to being doted on. You began to think of ways you could pay him back.

"Ready?" Geralt laid a warm hand on your shoulder, grabbing your attention. He shifted his hand off of you so he was offering it to you. You looked up at him as took his hand.

"Absolutely." You grinned as he twined his fingers with yours, leading you out of the shop. You waved over your shoulder to the shopkeep, who was beaming at the both of you. "Thank you for all your help."

"My pleasure, dear." The shopkeep waved as the door closed behind you.

"Well?" Geralt looked down at you, a small genuine smile curving his lips. When you didn't answer, he gestured down to your boots. "What do you think?"

"I adore them." You stood on your tiptoes, steadying yourself with a hand in his shoulder. You leaned in close as he turned his head, his gold eyes searching your face. "Best gift a guy has ever gotten me."

You brought your lips to his, enjoying the brief feel of him. It was a quick kiss, and did not even come close to conveying your feelings. But it would have to do since you were in public. The ride back to the vineyard was going to be long, but you couldn't wait to show him how you truly felt.

#geralt x reader #geralt of rivia fanfic #geralt fanfic #witcher fanfic #witcher fanfiction #geralt x ofc

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prose-for-hire · 4 years ago

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Childhood Sweethearts

Pairing: Cordelia Chase x fem!reader

Request: Hi! could i make another cordy request 🥺👉👈 i thought i would come off anon, for this one! How about cordy and reader are like childhood friends and she comes to sunnydale to visit and cordy is obliviabout readers feelings for her, and buffy is like “girl, are you blind, she likes you!” thank u! 🥺

Requested by: @onehellagaykid

You and Cordy had grown up together. You were so close, you had gone through everything together. She was the sweetest, but only ever to you. She was very protective of you, of your friendship. To anyone else she was blunt and sometimes accused of being a bit of a bully in the playground.

But the truth was, she was one of the kindest souls you had ever met even at your young age you knew there was nobody else for you. You imagined a wedding, planning it in secret and hiding the pages under your pillow, longing for this dream to be realised.

You still wore the best friends necklace you bought together before she had to move away. Before she moved to Sunnydale. It was cheap, but it meant more to you than the most precious bond.

It meant her. Her love. Friendship. You had one side of the heart pendant and she had the other.

You didn’t realise but she still wore it too. She had a more expensive taste now, but she did not want to part with it. She kept it under her clothes, snapping at anyone that dare say anything about it.

You were visiting Sunnydale for the summer. She had invited you to stay. You were so pleased, you had worried that she had forgotten about you.

The distance made you ache. Being apart from her, it almost physically hurt. You wanted to hold her hand, wake up to her face beside yours. You yearned for her in every sense, to have her attention for even a moment it made you happy beyond compare.

When she invited you, you worried that she may have changed. That she might not want to be your friend anymore. You knew she had been popular and you knew all about the things she faced in Sunnydale. You had met a vampire before and so you knew she wasn’t lying to you.

You spoke almost every week on the phone, shared all your secrets still, but you still worried that it may have changed when you saw her in person.

When you arrived, she embraced you in the biggest hug, gushing about how much she had missed you. It made you glow. Smile so wide. It was exactly like old times. You were so relieved so happy in her presence.

You relaxed together, her telling you everything she wanted to show you and do now that you were here. After a while, she did admit that you would have to go to a Scooby meeting at Giles’ house the next day. She couldn’t avoid it unfortunately, there was something spooky happening apparently.

You were a little disappointed, you wanted to have her alone. But you were excited to see the people she spent time saving the world with. You told her all the time how proud of her you were that she was one of the people that helped stop evil.

You arrived at Giles’ in the later morning and became introduced to her little group of friends she insisted to all except you that weren’t really her friends. She trusted you and so explained her weird fondness for them.

Buffy, Willow, Oz and Xander were very friendly and introduced themselves. As did Giles after he gave Cordelia a withering look for bringing a friend to a very important meeting. They began to try and speak in code in front of you, not realising that Cordelia told you everything.

“Um, the, uh, bumpy forehead brigade are out in force” Xander said from the corner of his mouth as if this was the height of secrecy.

“Gang! Local gang, very scary!” Buffy shouted, alarmed.

“Perhaps y/n should-” Giles started, concerned that this was going to prevent them all from serious discussion.

“Guys, chill. She knows all about demons and the gross ugly things around here!” Cordy announced and shrugged, turning to return her eye contact to yours. Both of you gazing longer than would be comfortable for anyone else. She looked away first, pretending to focus on the stake she was supposed to be whittling.

The meeting carried on and you picked up some wood and tried to copy Cordy’s actions. Now you knew why her grade had gone up so suddenly in woodwork, she had a lot of practice, even during Summer.

You were struggling with the stake and she took your hand in hers and tried to guide it. You shivered, smiling at her and not able to concentrate at all now. She whispered that you should probably just give up which made you laugh. She knew she could be honest, almost to a fault with you so you set it down and just listened.

The older man, Giles, spoke the most. With Buffy, the slayer chipping in and the rest adding a little humour here and there.

Cordy leaned in every so often, explaining all the gossip between all the people you had just met. She made you giggle and you were having trouble hiding it from them. As she spoke, she became so close you could smell her perfume. You watched her lips as she spoke. They looked so soft and she was wearing the strawberry scented lip gloss she always did. You wondered how it would taste. How her soft lips would feel against your own.

You were hers. Completely.

You were afraid she would never know. That she would never understand the feelings that you harboured. How your heart was, and always had been hers to do as she pleased with.

Talk then moved to the film that Xander, Willow and Oz planned to watch at the cinema later that day. It was one of your favourite genres. You got really excited and started to talk to them about it animatedly.

“Would you like to join us? We have a spare ticket” Willow offered as Oz just shrugged. He wouldn’t mind. Xander smiled too, you seemed nice and he decided it was better than playing third wheel to Willow and Oz.

“Do you mind?” You turned to Cordelia, making sure she wouldn’t be upset. You hated it when she felt left out. But she nodded, smiling. She knew how much you liked those films and she didn’t care in the slightest for them. She only ever watched them for you. Because she liked the way your face brightened and your smile never left your face. She usually watched you more than the film.

“Just come back to me at the end of the day” She whispered so you could hear and this made you drop your gaze to the floor and giggle slightly. You had goosebumps.

Your new acquaintances announced that you had better go so you wouldn’t miss the ads, which according to Xander were the best parts of any movie. This made you smile and roll your eyes, something Cordy warned you that you’d be doing a lot of around Xander. You waved, you eyes not moving from Cordy’s until you were out of the door.

“So… y/n seems nice” Buffy said slowly after you had left. She didn’t have time for a movie, she was supposed to be at home any minute. Family time that she had missed too much of.

“She is! She’s cute right? Thank me for her style”

“She really enjoys your company, huh?” Buffy hinted slowly. She saw the way you acted around each other. As if you were already dating. But there was something there. A missing link, which Buffy quickly discovered was Cordy’s self-awareness. Or, lack thereof.

“Yeah, we’ve always been close. She’s, like, the only opinion I trust when I shop. Apart from my own, obviously” Cordy smiled and started to take the stakes and put them away. She was over that activity.

But she didn’t realise that Buffy was staring. She couldn’t not say anything. Not when she saw the way that Cordy looked at you. She hoped this didn’t backfire, but she didn’t think twice. She just spoke.

“Oh my God, Cordy. Are you blind? She likes you. Like, really likes you”

“Really? Y-you think?” Cordelia said, a smile starting to form on her lips. Everything rushed back to her at once. Those sleepovers where your faces were so close together she wanted to lean in and kiss you. Hushed and whispered secrets. Cuddling together under blankets and promising never to forget the other. Times after school where you would only want to hang out the two of you.

The way you both blushed when she would do your makeup, because of the proximity. When she would dress you up and shower you with such praise that you would bashfully shrug and tell her to stop.

She had adored you for so long and she hadn’t even been able to call it what it was. She liked women. Well, a woman. You.

“I don’t think, I know. We’re in the everglades here, also known as pine central” Buffy stated, referring to both of you. She could see the way Cordy lit up whenever you were around. How she softened, but only slightly. Not wanting you to hear her harsh digs or think they were directed towards you.

Cordy wasn’t listening. How had she not seen it? How had she not noticed it in herself?

She missed you, thought about you constantly. Wanted to visit you but things always got so busy in Sunnydale.

In some way, she had needed someone to tell her this. Remind her that this was love. Something she had hidden deep down for such a long time. Whether is was shame or otherwise, she had never acknowledged these feelings long enough to figure it out.

But now she was. She was thinking about it. And coming to terms with it. She left for a while, shopping and thinking.

She loved you. She treasured you. She couldn’t imagine her life without you in it.

You both returned to her place after your respective days. You had missed each other, more so than when you lived away from each other. Because the other was right here in the same town. You were pleased to see her, although you gushed about the movie.

You always shared a bed growing up and this visit was no different. You felt a tension in the air as she got ready for bed, facing away from you. You slipped into your side of the bed, wrapping yourself up in the blankets waiting for her to join you.

She got in beside you, lying on her side and facing you. She nodded at herself, telling herself to ask.

“Do you, do you have feelings… for me?” She asked. Direct as always. Your eyes widened, you almost recoiled in horror. She knew. How could she know?

What if she wanted you to leave? Right now at night in a strange town where vampires were more common than humans. What if she thought you were disgusting? You couldn’t live with it if she wanted to stop being your friend. You were sure you would die right there beside her. You took a deep breath, it was now or never.

“I do…” You admitted. Barely blinking. Holding your breath. You were so scared, your palms slicked with sweat.

Your thoughts swirled around you, every horrible scenario flashing before your eyes. Your mouth went dry. The seconds it took her to react were so painful.

Your heart stopped beating, you were sure of it. That, or it was beating so fast that you couldn’t feel the separate beats.

He lips curved into a smile. Her eyes glassy, shining in the dim light from the hallway. You scanned her face, smiling was good. Smiling was… pleased... right? Happy?

Could she feel the same? Could she possibly love you the way you loved her? Adored her in the same way?

So many emotions were spinning around your mind that you hadn’t noticed her lips had started to move. She was explaining herself. Her lips moved and you only managed to process her words after she finished speaking.

“I’m new to this, but I think that I love you. That I want you, only you” Cordy said, her sentence tailing into a whisper. You had never seen her so apprehensive to speak. So concerned that she had only heard what she wanted to hear. That you didn’t really like her in that way.

She adored you, she wanted to spend every waking moment with you. She now found it ridiculous that she didn’t realise how she felt. All that time she had missed out on.

She leaned in, her eyes dropping from your eyes to your mouth. She positioned herself closer

She looked into your eyes. Deep. So deep she almost became lost again. She was asking you if it was okay as she moved her hand to lightly graze your cheek. You nodded, so slightly. But she caught it. She didn’t wait any longer. Couldn’t wait any longer.

Her lips met yours for the first time. It was perfection. The way she kissed with such feeling, such devotion. Her skin was so smooth and you enjoyed the way her skin felt against yours. Her lips slow and soft, telling you everything and more. You paused, looking back at each other, a breathy laugh you shared.

You couldn’t believe it, how lucky you were. You were really kissing. You were really hers. And she knew it. She finally knew she held your heart in her palm, the look you shared told you that she would do anything to protect it. So long as you did the same for hers.

She was new to this, new to the feelings she had only just been able to name.

But she never wanted to stop kissing you. Holding you. Telling you how much she loved you, making up for all that time you had missed.

You vowed to be by her side from that moment. To remind her everyday how much you cherished her.

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dejayoonw · 5 years ago

Text

hold tight , jjk

part 5 | make it up

word count: 4.3k

warnings: jealousy, mentions of drugs, dirty talk, praise, pet names(baby girl, little girl, pretty girl, she calls him daddy), jk has a big dick, oral (m receiving), deep throating, face fucking, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, spanking, finger sucking, like one (1) pussy slap, he cums in her mouth

a/n: this is part five of my social media au hold tight & will probably make most sense if read along with the rest of the au.

“Come on, we don’t want to be late do we?” tugging your best friend's hand towards the door you wondered how Jungkook would react if you were to be a little late to the wedding, would you get to see him annoyed like the first time you met him just before he recognized you? You hoped you’d get to see that side of him again, liking it more than you cared to admit. Pushing your thoughts to the back of your mind you got into the passenger seat of Tae’s Bentley, it was his proudest possession to date. You were happy that your best friend's hard work had paid off enough that he could afford something like this, plus for the two of you to live in an upscale apartment. Of course the two of you shared the rent on the place but still, you were proud of him for being so successful while doing something he loved.

Pulling up to the wedding venue you smiled to yourself as Tae pulled into the parking space next to Jungkook's car. Your smile was soon wiped off your face the second Jungkook stepped out of his car. He was wearing tight black pants that accentuated his thighs with a button up shirt tucked in, two of the top buttons undone to show off a little bit of his chest. The only disappointment was one of your favorite parts about him, his arms littered with tattoos, had been covered by his sleeves. And yet, you still couldn’t find it in yourself to be disappointed, not when he looked this good. You will yourself to stop gawking at the boy, letting your eyes meet his only to see him already looking back at you with an uncharacteristically smug look on his face. You couldn’t care less that you’d been caught, in fact you were glad he’d seen you. You threw a wink his way and turned to your friend, taking the camera he’d lent you to use for the job out of his hands. Poor Tae was doing his best to ignore his best friend eye fucking the guy he’d hired, he found himself wishing more and more that Hoseok had been available.

Throughout the wedding you made sure to focus on the job, as much as you wanted to flirt with the pretty man in the oh so tight jeans you didn’t want to mess things up for Taehyung. So you kept to your section of the venue and did as you’d been instructed. The ceremony surprisingly seemed to go by quickly though the reception was lasting a lot longer than you’d expected. You weren’t sure how many people kept the photographers around throughout the whole reception but you guessed if you had a rich daddy to pay for everything you might do the same. Just as you were about to take the fortieth picture of the bride's grandmother doing shots with yet another man in his twenties you heard your name being called.

“The groom said they’re about to move the party to one of his friends' houses, it’s just their friends. He invited us.” Taehyung told you quietly so no one would overhear. Jungkook stood next to him though his eyes were anywhere else but on you or Tae.

“So they want us to take pictures of their friends doing coke and getting fucked up?” You mumbled not exactly excited about the extra work. Jungkook snorted at your response, you couldn’t help but smile a bit, feeling proud.

“No they want us to come get fucked up with them. Or, at least I don’t think that they’re planning on doing drugs.” Taehyung seemed to be questioning whether he should even go now, worried you might be right.

“Look at them Taehyung, of course they're going to do drugs. Why should that stop us from partying like Belford? We can be The Wolves of Walmart.” Taehyung shook his head at your ridiculous joke, especially considering you probably had just as much money as any of them, but chuckled nonetheless. How the two of you had even stayed so close into your adulthood was honestly something you both wondered everyday. You two were so different. Where he worried about things like drugs and shied away from anything overly sexual you didn’t bat an eye to it. You weren’t necessarily into coke or anything hardcore like that, but you’d smoked your fair share of weed in your lifetime.

“We’ll go if you want to but if anyone offers me a line I’m leaving.” Tae said, shuddering slightly at the thought. You smiled up at your soft hearted best friend finding his caution endearing. This was why you��d been able to stay close, because the differences the two of you had always seemed to be nothing in comparison to the adoration you held for each other, platonically of course. Once upon a time you might’ve harbored a crush for your introverted, modest friend but then he came out to you in tenth grade and you quickly got over those feelings. Besides, you were more into the bad boy type anyways.

“Are you coming too, Jungkookie?” You asked looking up at him through your eyelashes, eyes opening just a little wider. How could Jungkook say no to you when you looked at him like that? As much as your relentless teasing made him feel like he might have an aneurysm, he couldn’t resist spending more time with you. It felt weird not having you messing with him today, so maybe you’d talk to him at the party. This was probably the last time you’d see each other anyways, he should make it count.

“I’ll go for a bit.” The cute little smile that took over your face was enough to rid Jungkook of any second thoughts he might’ve had. Jungkook saw you as this powerful intimidatingly sexy woman who somehow still emitted the cutest energy. How would he ever survive tonight with you switching back and forth so drastically?

It didn’t seem to be a concern once the three of you got to the party. Ever since you walked through the door you’d been swarmed by multiple people. It was one after the other, even if Jungkook had worked up the courage to talk to you he’d never get the chance to. So he sulked on the couch, squished in between a couple engulfing each other and the arm of the couch. He’d lost Taehyung a while ago, though Jungkook figured he’d found someone for himself.

You loved your viewers, well most of them, there were definitely a few on the weirder side that occasionally took things too far, but overall you loved them, you were so thankful to them. It was times like these though, that you wished your job wasn’t so public. You’d been stuck in the same spot for the last hour, person after person had come up to you to ask if you were Honey from onlyfans. You hated that you sounded so snobby in your head but you really just wanted to talk with people normally tonight, you were there to have fun after all. Not that talking with your viewers wasn’t fun, you just really wished it didn’t feel like work sometimes. You’d zoned out on the guy next to you who had been telling you all of his favorite videos of yours in great detail. Your eyes found Jungkook across the room, a strong pout on his lips as he played on his phone. You tilted your head slightly wondering what had him so upset and why he wasn’t enjoying himself.

“Yuta, dude, leave that poor girl alone. Sorry Honey, he doesn’t know how to shut up sometimes.” One of the girls, who’d earlier introduced herself to you as Sorn, said trying to save you from her friend. Honestly Yuta wasn’t bothering you, it was just that he’d been rambling for the last 10 minutes and you would much rather be figuring out what’s going on with Jungkook right now. You smiled over at Sorn silently thanking her.

“It’s no problem, I think it’s sweet that you enjoy my content so much Yuta. I do think I'm going to go check on my friend though, again, it was nice talking to both of you.” You said, smiling sweetly at Yuta while winking at both of them before making your escape to Jungkook. You say yourself on the arm of the couch he was sitting on, catching his attention right away. You couldn’t help but notice the annoyed look on his face when he looked up at you.

“Why are you pouting over here all by yourself?” You asked him trying not to laugh at how obvious it was that he was struggling not to look at your legs that you’d draped over his own.

“Not all of us have a fan club everywhere we go to keep us entertained.” Jungkooks sharp tone had caught you off guard and shamefully sent a wave of head down to the pit of your stomach, but maybe that was the drink you’d been nursing since you’d gotten here. You weren’t sure why you found yourself wanting to make it up to Jungkook, you hadn’t done anything wrong. It’s not like the two of you came together or anything. Yet here you were, giving him your best apologetic eyes, with a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry Jungkookie, I didn’t mean to make you jealous.” You said quietly, hoping he wouldn’t think you were still teasing him. Jungkook didn’t know where this shift in attitude came from but he could swear he’d seen this look somewhere before.

“I’m not jealous, what do I have to be jealous over?” He didn’t know if he was trying to convince himself or you but it was clear neither of you were buying it. You didn’t push it though, you didn’t know why you felt so compelled to make things right with him. Maybe it was just instinct because you were admittedly attracted to him and you tend to submit to the people in your life who you connected with physically.

“But still, we’re friends and I let you sit over here alone while I talked to a bunch of people. I should’ve stayed with you. Let me make it up to you?” There was no way in hell Jungkook was reading this right. You were sat with your legs draped across his lap, your fingertips grazing his shoulder and every so often they’d brush his neck just slightly, but there was no way you were saying what he thinks you’re saying.

“What, um, what do you mean?” He asked, avoiding your intense gaze.

“Anything you want, name it and I’ll do it.” How was this happening? Jungkook had to be reading it wrong. But, what else could you mean? His mind was racing so fast, he felt himself freaking out. Before he even thought about it Jungkook was mumbling something about finding a bathroom and stumbling off away from you. Jungkook wasn’t even sure how he found the bathroom, but all he knew is he needed water, now.

Splashing some of the water onto his face Jungkook attempted to calm himself down. Why had he gotten so freaked out? This wasn’t like him, normally he was good at getting people he was interested in, man or woman. Why did you make him so nervous? Just because he’d seen you naked before didn’t mean you’re any different from the people he’d slept with before. Except you were, he hadn’t slept with you. He’d just seen some pictures and maybe a video or two(or fifty) of you. He’d fantasized about you without even knowing you and now he knew you, kind of. He felt creepy. Why did he though? You posted that stuff for people like him to look at, you made it clear that you knew he’d seen your stuff and you didn’t act like you felt weird about it. In fact, you acted like you liked it. So why was he hiding in the bathroom? You’d basically just offered to fulfill all the fantasies he’d had about you. He had never been one to run from that kind of offer before, at least not from someone as beautiful as you.

The more Jungkook thought the more he hated himself from most likely missing his chance with you. How many of your viewers could say they’d had this opportunity? He didn’t know, but the answer was none. You’d made it a rule a long time ago not to sleep with any of your viewers. There was just something about Jungkook, which is why you’d made your way outside the bathroom to apologize for freaking him out. You weren’t sure why you thought he’d wanted to sleep with you in the first place. Sure you knew he’d seen your stuff online but that didn’t mean anything. Jungkook didn’t see you at first when he opened the door but when you’d called out his name he was glad to see you.

“I’m sorry I forced myself on you like that, I think I just read the signs wrong. I got carried away because I think you’re really attractive and, I don’t know, I’m sorry.” You kept your eyes on your hands folded in front of you. You had this pitiful look on your face like you were ashamed of yourself. Jungkook was disgusted with how hot he found it. Why did literally everything about you turn him on? More importantly why hadn’t he jumped at the opportunity to act on it when he first noticed that you were willing. Yoongi would’ve called Jungkook a little bitch if he’d seen the way he’d been acting around you.

“Shut up and get in the bathroom.” Your eyes went wide as you checked to make sure it was actually Jungkook’s mouth those words came out of. You felt heat rushing to your cheeks at the stern look on his face. Where had this come from? Where had he been hiding this side? You knew if you walked in that bathroom you’d be getting exactly what you’d silently(and not so silently) been begging for since you met Jungkook. He didn’t want to push you, but he couldn’t deny the excitement he felt when you rushed past him into the bathroom.

“If you don’t want to do this we don’t have to.” You told Jungkook when he shut the two of you in the small bathroom. You wanted to give him the opportunity to leave before anything happened. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel pressured.

“I can assure you babygirl, I want nothing more than to show you just how much I want this.” Before you could process his words Jungkook's lips were on yours, kissing you like a man starved. His lips were soft and he wasted no time being gentle, sliding his hands in your hair and tugging your head back further to give him better access as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Then, before you could get used to the feeling of his mouth on yours, his lips left yours and attacked the skin on your neck. Sucking, nibbling, and licking as he tried to find your sweet spot. Your fingers were desperate to cling onto something, moving from his back up to the base of his neck you raked your fingers through his hair as his mouth worked wonders on your neck. You were a whimpering mess as he left little marks all over your neck. Jungkook smiled at the sweet sounds leaving your lips, feeling proud of himself for getting this kind of reaction without even really doing anything. You could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your panties and you ached for some kind of relief. You involuntarily pushed your hips into his, feeling his already forming bulge causing both of you to moan at the sudden contact.

“You better keep your hands to yourself if you want this to go well for you, little girl.” You had to stop yourself from moaning out loud at his words. Jungkooks grip on your hips was tight enough that you’d probably bruise but all you could feel was pleasure.

“Kookie please,” You begged, dropping down to your knees in front of him, taking his large hands in yours. “wanna make it up to you.”

You wouldn’t continue without his explicit permission, so you gazed up at him with wide eyes. How could Jungkook say no when the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen was on her knees in front of him begging to suck his cock?

“Go ahead baby girl, show me what that pretty mouth can do.” He said letting his hand fall to the back of your head gently. His cock was practically screaming to be let out of the tight confidments of his jeans. As you cautiously undid the zipper and button and pulled both his jeans and his underwear down at once Jungkook let out a soft noise at the relief. You gawked at his size, he was probably the biggest you’d ever had, prettiest too. Your mouth was watering at the sight, he was perfect.

Looking up at him you were stunned again by the beauty that is Jeon Jungkook. Staring down at you with his mouth agape he brought his hand to your jaw, swiping his thumb along your bottom lip. Keeping your gaze locked with his you opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out just slightly, licking at the pad of his thumb. Jungkook groaned slightly as he finally guided his cock into your mouth, watching you close your lips around the head and started slowly bobbing your head up and down his shaft. You began to use your tongue as you quickened your pace. Jungkook was mostly silent but you could tell he was enjoying himself when he tightened his grip on your hair every time you took him deeper.

You began to use your hands a bit, causing a moan to leave his lips at the feeling. You then took his cock deeper, finally making him buck his hips forward, hitting the back of your throat. Rolling your eyes back you pushed your head down further on his cock hoping he’d get the hint. Thankfully he did, tangling his hand in your hair to hold your head still, he bucked his hips again, harder this time, shoving his cock even farther than before. He repeated the motion, fucking your face until you had to tap out.

Pulling off of his dick with a pop, you were gasping for air, your chin covered in saliva and your hair was a mess, you looked perfect. Quickly Jungkook pulled you up by your arms needing to feel your lips on his again. Your pretty little hands snaked their way up Jungkook's shirt, feeling his abs as he kissed you. How that simple action affected him so much Jungkook didn’t know, but he did know he was in for it. Sex before didn’t come close to how it felt with you and he hadn’t even fucked you yet, how was he ever supposed to have sex again with a random girl knowing it could be this good with you?

You lightly traced Jungkook’s abs letting your hand slowly fall down to his cock, pumping it in hopes of getting what you wanted. Jungkook kissed you a little harder making you moan and rub your thighs together for some relief. Needing to feel you Jungkook pulled your hand off him and roughly turned you around, pushing you against the bathroom counter. You whined at the feeling of his hard cock against your ass.

“You’ve been such a good girl baby, sucking my cock so well. Feel how hard you made me?” He whispered, his raspy voice sending more heat to your dripping core. His arms wrapped around your waist, his hand cupping your clothed pussy making you whine out. “Want to be my good girl? Want me to fill up this pretty little pussy?

“Please.” You begged, wanting nothing more than to be his good girl. Jungkook pulled your dress up over your ass, yanking your soaked panties down letting them fall to your ankles. His hands gripped your ass as he admired the pretty sight for a moment before he dipped one finger into your entrance almost groaning at how tight and wet you were.

“Fuck babygirl, who did this to you? You’re soaked.” He teased, adding another finger to stretch you out enough for his cock. You let your head fall forward, loving the feeling of Jungkook's fingers pumping in and out of you. Then suddenly he pulled them out and slapped your aching pussy causing you to yelp. “I asked you a question, pretty girl.”

“You did.” You whined out, pushing your ass back into Jungkook's hips, needing some relief. Thankfully he shoved both fingers back in, feeling satisfied with your answer. But he wasn’t done teasing you.

“Are you sure it’s only for me? Not all those other people you were ignoring me for?” He asked, curling his fingers up and hitting your g-spot.

“No, fuck,” You moaned as he continuously hit that spot, you were so close. “It’s only for you, daddy.”

Jungkook groaned at the nickname, he’d never cared much for it but something about the way you said it made his dick twitch. He pulled his soaked fingers from your pussy ignoring the whine you let out in protest. He spread your juices all over his cock before lining the head at your entrance. Both of you let out gasps of air and soft moans as he slid his cock into you.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good.” All you could manage to reply with was moans of agreement as he bottomed out. Both of you needed a moment to not cum right away. The feeling was too good. Needing him to move you ground your hips into his making him groan out a sweet sound as he gripped your hips tightly to stop you. Before you could beg him to move he had pulled back almost all the way out and slammed his hips back in forcefully. Your head fell forward as he repeated the action at a fast pace. His hands left your hips to squeeze your ass, letting one hand fall down to spank you, surely leaving a handprint.

Needing to get deeper Jungkook pulled your leg up onto the counter, gripping at your thigh tightly. You moaned at how deep he was getting now, knowing it wouldn’t be long before you were coming apart. Jungkook shushed you letting his free hand wrap around to shove two of his fingers into your mouth to silence your loud moans.

“You’re doing so good for me pretty girl but I need you to be quiet okay? We don’t want to get caught, do we?” The thought of someone catching the two of you had you clenching around Jungkook's cock, making his hips sputter for a moment. “Oh you like that idea? The thought of someone finding out what a slut you are for your daddy?”

Jungkook's hand left your thigh and immediately found your clit, rubbing at a fast pace to match the way he was pounding into you. You moaned loudly around his fingers, biting down on them lightly causing a hiss to leave his lips. Your leg that had been holding you up was starting to feel like jello but you ignored it as you came undone all over Jungkook's cock, clenching and shaking in his hands. He held out, fucking you through your orgasm until you let your leg down so you could hold youself up. Jungkook quickly pulled out ready to cum on your back until you dropped to your knees and opened your mouth wide. Moaning at the sight Jungkook let his load spill all over your tongue only getting a little bit on your lips. You kept your eyes on his as you gathered his cum on your fingers and popped them in your mouth making sure you got every last drop. After you swallowed you opened your mouth to show him, making him smile down at you, grazing your cheek with his thumb.

“Did I do good?” You asked softly, still staring up at him with wide eyes.

“You did amazing baby girl.” He told you, pulling you up to stand. He chuckled and held you still when you wobbled slightly still not fully able to stand on your own. Crouching down, Jungkook pulled your panties up your legs for you and let your dress back down.

“Thank you, daddy.” You told him, partly teasing and partly serious. He rolled his eyes and smirked at your words placing a soft kiss on your cheek. The moment was interrupted by a banging on the door, making you two jump apart.

“Yo, are you two idiots not done yet?”

#bts smut #jungkook smut #hold tight #dejayoon #bts social media au #jungkook social media au #bts au #jungkook au #bts sm au #jungkook sm au #bts fake texts

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nineteenninety-six · 5 years ago

Text

Escapism

REQUEST: hi! could i please request tommy x reader, where reader is married to a very wealthy man in a position of power, and they both know there will be disastrous consequences should anyone find out about the affair?

So I feel like this will might need a second part since I barely even touched the request but hey tell me what you think.

I also saw 1917 on Saturday and it’s an amazing film, I definitely recommend you to go see it

Trigger warning; mentions of abuse, orgy, drugs & drinking.

WORD COUNT : 2260

[PART TWO] [PART THREE] [PART FOUR]

They shouldn’t be doing this, (Y/N) knew that, but she couldn’t find it in herself to stop the affair between her and Tommy.

(Y/N) was married to Stewart Langley, a rich and powerful man from high society who got anything he wanted simply because he had money. That was also the reason why he got (Y/N), despite the fact he was over thirty years her senior. It was no secret amongst the elite in London that Stewart had practically bought her. Her own family didn’t come from the same society and class as Stewart but they were still very rich since her father was a lawyer.

It was a charity dinner where (Y/N)’s father had introduced his family to Stewart Langley, who he had worked with a few times and it was not long after that night did (Y/N)’s life become a nightmare. (Y/N) had lost track of the number of times she prayed and wished to go back in time to before that blasted dinner before her life was ruined due to the greed and ego of men.

When her parents told her that they set up an arranged marriage between her and Stewart, she didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. She didn’t believe them at first, she had just entered her twenties and Stewart was the same age as her parents but she quickly realised that they were serious. (Y/N) was by herself, she didn’t know who to turn to for help and she was also an only child so she had no-one to stand up for her or for her to confide in. She was utterly helpless and alone, her own parents had thrown her away.

Two weeks after they told her, (Y/N) was standing in a church, trying her hardest to keep her tears at bay and her voice steady as she stood opposite Stewart reciting her vows. She never thought that her wedding day, a day that she had been dreaming about since she was a little girl, would be the worst day of her life and that she would be crying all day.

At first, she couldn’t understand why her parents had set up the marriage but after the wedding when she saw them attend gatherings and social events that they would never have been invited to beforehand, along with rumours that they had bought a new bigger house, it dawned on her that she was bought by her husband.

(Y/N) lived a luxurious life with her husband but that didn’t make it a good or nice marriage. Stewart was a verbally abusive man, he also became physically abusive on the occasion when he drank too much or had taken drugs, for the most part, she was able to lock herself in her room but it took a bad interaction with Stewart for her to realise that it was better for her to hide away in her room rather than to try and help him but the silver lining of the whole situation was that Stewart didn’t force himself on her, he told her that he was too old to have children so the only reason he got her, was to essentially show her off and besides, whenever he did want to sleep with someone, he would visit the brothel in town.

Stewart threw a first-anniversary party to celebrate their first year of marriage, though it was more like a business function where Stewart invited all his friends, co-workers and business associates and spent all night speaking with them, while (Y/N) was tucked into a small corner of the room nursing a glass of wine and occasionally talking to a wife of one of the many businessmen that flooded the room.

The party is where she first met Thomas Shelby. She had heard whispers about the newly elected MP and the rumours that surrounded him about how he was a gangster or at least involved with gangs back in Birmingham. It didn’t surprise (Y/N) that Stewart had invited him, he had been trying to get involved in politics for a while now and so it didn’t matter that Thomas Shelby was a Labour MP as Stewart thought he would be able to bribe him to change parties and join the conservatives.

“Congratulations.” A voice she never heard before brought her out of her people watching.

“Sorry?” (Y/N) cleared her throat and turn to face where the voice came from.

The man in front of her was handsome, with his dark hair that was shaved on the sides and his bright yet icy blue eyes.

“On your anniversary. Congratulations.” The man’s eyes bore into her, it was slightly unnerving.

(Y/N)’s lips twisted into a bitter smile, “Thank you….”

“Tommy. Tommy Shelby.” The man answered her unspoken question.

“Thank you, Mr Shelby.”

Tommy opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Stewart shouting out (Y/N)’s from across the room, motioning for her to join his side. Tommy could see (Y/N)’s shoulders droop at the command and he frowned at the sight.

“I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening Mr Shelby.” (Y/N) gave him a small smile before walking over to her husband.

Tommy swiped himself another drink before tucking himself into the corner that (Y/N) just vacated and kept eyes on the couple, thoughts and speculations about them whirring around in his head.

The next time they met, it was at a fundraiser but unfortunately (Y/N) couldn’t run away and hide this time, Stewart’s arm was either tightly wrapped around her waist or tightly gripped around her wrist, so tight that she had no doubt that it would leave a bruise.

“Mr Shelby!” Stewart approached Tommy with a wide smile, a smile that meant that he wanted something and that he wasn’t opposed to bully or bribe his way to ger it.

“Mr Langley...Mrs Langley” Tommy shook Stewart’s hand with a tight smile and tipped his head at (Y/N).

Stewart opened his mouth but paused, glancing at (Y/N) “Darling, I’m sure I saw Mary-Anne around here somewhere, why don’t you go over to her whilst I talk to Thomas here”

“Of course.” (Y/N) nodded, she nodded at Tommy before she left them.

Mary-Anne was the wife of one of Stewart’s friends and was the only person that (Y/N) could tolerate even a little bit. It wasn’t like they were friends or anything but (Y/N) could spend time with her without having the urge to throw herself out of the nearest window but even so, she needed a drink or two get through an interaction with her which is exactly what she did. After quickly downing the glass of wine in her hand, (Y/N) picked up another before making her way over to Mary-Anne and the rest of the wives.

“(Y/N)! Oh there you are, I wondered if I would get the chance to see you today” Mary-Anne giggled as she spotted (Y/N) making her way over.

“I’m sorry, Stewart just wouldn’t let me leave his side” (Y/N) falsely giggled, acting as if Stewart and her were deeply in love. The rest of the women in the group laughed and giggled as well, falling for her lie.

(Y/N) spent the rest of the evening with the women, a headache slowly forming as time went on.

When the live band stopped and was replaced with soft music coming from the phonograph and the many tables of food were taken away and replaced with more alcohol, (Y/N)’s stomach twisted and she began to feel sick. She knew what was coming and she was desperately looking for a way out.

This happened every time these type of people met up, they spent a few hours getting drunk under the guise of a fundraiser or any other type of meeting before it became dark which is where the prostitutes were invited in along with drugs and more alcohol. For the most part, when this happened in the past, she was able to hide in an alcove somewhere and become invisible amongst the activities that were occurring in the room, though she really didn’t feel like hiding in the same room tonight.

She found a way to escape when the prostitutes both male and female were brought in along with the drugs and everyone was distracted. She quickly walked through the many halls of the mansion they were in, she didn’t want to run through them and catch unwanted attention, so she took her time. Once she found a door that led out to the back garden, she stepped through and took a deep breath of the cool fresh air. She tried her hardest to calm herself but she couldn’t stop the shaking of her hands or the tears that spilled over, she told herself that she shouldn’t be upset, she was living a better life than most people in the country and had more wealth than she needed but she would trade all of it to live a humble life with a man she chose herself and loved wholeheartedly.

Trapped in her thoughts, she didn’t hear the footsteps behind her until the person spoke.

“I’m guessing you’re not fond of the activities that are occurring inside either eh?”

(Y/N) whipped around the sound of the Brummie accent and stared in shock at the man who stood opposite her.

“Mr Shelby! I didn’t expect anyone else to be out here, I apologize.” (Y/N) quickly brushed away her tears as she spoke to the man.

“No need to apologize, I’m the one who interrupted you.” Tommy’s gaze was strong and piercing but (Y/N) didn’t feel uncomfortable.

“You’re not inside with your husband and the others?” Tommy spoke again, his eyebrow raising.

(Y/N) scoffed and let out a strained laugh, “No, not my type of scene. You?”

“Can’t say it’s my type of thing either.” The corner of Tommy’s lips quirked up as he made his way over to where she was standing.

“I don’t know much about you Mr Shelby but I feel like none of this is your scene. You know the fundraisers and charity balls with the upper class, no offence.”

“Please, call me Tommy but you’re right, none of this is me. Am I that obvious?”

“Probably not to the average person but I like people watching.” (Y/N) threw a small smile at Tommy who grinned back. There were a few moments of silence before Tommy spoke again,

“Your husband...how’d you meet?”

“You don’t know?” (Y/N) quirked an eyebrow.

“No, should I?”

(Y/N) smiled again, she felt comfortable around Tommy, “It was an arranged marriage but it’s a known secret that he pretty much paid for me. You know, as if I was some object.” “What do you mean he paid for you?” Tommy looked mildly disturbed, something that (Y/N) thought was something that didn’t happen often.

“He worked with my father a few times and at some charity ball my father introduced him to me and my mother and the next week I’m being told I’m getting married and before I know it, two weeks after that I’m in a church marrying a man who’ve I only met once. Then I start hearing whispers that my parents bought a brand new house along with the fact that they’ve attending private clubs, the types that charge you an exorbitant amount.”

Tommy let out a low whistle.

“I know right.” (Y/N) let out a small laugh, “I do wonder how much I cost him though. Not that it would have made an impact on his wealth, he’s still as rich as ever.”

“Hmm, I guess that makes sense, he does look much older than you.”

(Y/N) laughed again, “He is much older than me. He’s over thirty years older than me, around the same age as my parents.”

“How old are you?” Tommy asked

“Twenty-four”

Tommy let out a scoff of disbelief, she was only a few years older than his youngest sibling Finn. He’s never met her parents but he felt anger at them on her behalf.

“Do you still speak to your parents?”

“No, I was absolutely furious at them and refused to talk to them. They said that I was overreacting and that they were still my parents but...parents don’t sell their child off do they? But anyway, after a few weeks of weak attempts to reconcile they finally stopped.”

“You were not overreacting, you had every right to be angry.” Tommy consoled her.

“Do you have any children Tommy?” (Y/N) asked.

“I do. I have a son, Charlie.” Tommy smiled as he thought of his son.

“You’re married?” (Y/N) glanced at his hands, looking for a ring.

“No...Charlie’s mother died when he was young.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss.” (Y/N) gave Tommy a sympathetic smile. “How old is Charlie?” “He’s seven, getting big now.”

“Mr Shelby!” A shout caught their attention, it was Tommy’s driver “The party is over now sir.”

(Y/N) turned to face Tommy and held her hand out for him to shake it, “I should leave now before Stewart gets impatient for waiting too long or becomes suspicious but it was nice meeting you and I thank you for your company.”

“Pleasure’s mine, goodbye Mrs Langley” Tommy shook her hand and watched as she walked away.

#peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine #imagines #fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #x reader #Peaky Blinders

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do-androids-dream-ao3acc · 4 years ago

Photo

Done on request (out yourself if you dare): What if Geralt receives fan mail? Well. Have 2317 words of corniness. On AO3 or below the cut.

It began, of course, by accident.

Geralt now spent almost half the year in Vizima, less when he was on contract or on his vineyard or Emhyr was called to Nilfgaard by matters that could not be postponed. So Emhyr had a room set up for him in the palace. Geralt used the place to make potions when he needed them; he kept a second armor set there (after some events had taught him that this might be necessary), and at some point even had Eskel send him some books from the old fortress.

That evening, Emhyr found him in that room. Geralt had not bothered to arrange the chamber in any way to his liking. This was an indelible trait about him, a habit with such a pull that even the – compared to the capital palace – rather modest luxury of the surroundings did nothing to change it. In principle, Geralt knew all facets of comfort. Still, he had slept outdoors longer in his life than in a bed with silk sheets, so perhaps it was no wonder that he didn't value the furnishings in this room. There was a kind of work table against one wall, a few bookshelves, an armchair, and a desk, which he at least used occasionally to write letters. It was austere and utilitarian, more a place of work than relaxation, so Emhyr was almost surprised to find him sitting in an armchair reading.

"Please tell me this is not another one of those erotica slush from that anonymous hack," Emhyr said as he entered.

Geralt looked up in surprise. "If I were you, I wouldn't be so disparaging about the author – as far as I know, you've profited from his fantasies," he replied with a wink. "And no, it's nothing salacious."

He lifted the booklet so that Emhyr could read the title. As he did so, a slip of paper, apparently used as a bookmark, fluttered out of the pages. In a fit of gallantry, Emhyr bent down and picked up the sheet. He glanced at it, suddenly frowned.

"What's that?" he asked, his voice a mixture of amusement and, oddly enough, nearly accusation.

Geralt shrugged. "You remember that tournament I told you about?"

"In Touissaint? Hard to forget, since you won it – and are fond of telling about it when you've had too much to drink," Emhyr replied dryly. "However, there had been no mention of love letters in the stories so far."

"That hardly passes for a love letter," Geralt replied.

Emhyr turned the paper back in his direction and read aloud, "To the owner of those strong arms, men like you drive me wild. I want to have a herd of your white-haired, scar-faced babies. Signed by an enthralled admirer."

"I got another one that describes me as perfectly muscled," Geralt said.

Emhyr's raised brows might indicate surprise or disapproval; it was hard to tell.

"Flattering, I'm sure. But why did you keep the letters?"

Geralt thought about it for a moment. "I don't really know," he finally admitted.

"You use them as bookmarks."

"Fine, let's say they're flattering," Geralt replied lightly. "You should have seen the ones in Palmerin de Launfal's tent."

On the surface, that was the end of the matter. But somehow, it wasn't. The sex they had that night was... interesting. They were often tempestuous, usually of a fervor that was difficult to contain, and it was noticeable that Emhyr's lust was not infrequently linked to his moods. When he was troubled inside, for whatever reason, it always showed in their love life. But this was different. It was rough, hard, but in a different way than usual; wilder, downright dominant – and above all, extremely exciting.

The following day, they did not address it, although they both seemed utterly satisfied. On the other hand, they were usually easy to please as far as that was concerned; they fitted each other like lock and key, were almost physically addicted to each other. The fact that they sincerely loved and adored each other was like icing on the cake that no one had expected because the filling was already so satisfying. It had taken them a while to realize that that one did not work without the other because that's just how they were.

Despite everything, it was hard to define what had been different, and everyday life left them little opportunity to delve deeper into it, even if it had been significant enough to them at all. Life went on as usual, as far as could be said in this case, when one ruled the greatest of all empires and the other willingly threw himself in the way of monsters.

Neither Geralt nor Emhyr were really convinced of the power of coincidence, and yet Emhyr stumbled upon a little secret purely by chance. That day he sat in his study, as usual, alone in the contemplative quiet that came both from his surroundings and his work routine. The things he did here – reading, evaluating, deciding, signing – were little different from anything he did in the many hours he spent in public; here, however, there were not the manifold distractions of the overloud, exceedingly annoying courtiers and his advisors, who were always trying to outdo each other in their boot licking.

There was something familiar and reassuring in the stack of papers on his desk. There were always a good number of letters among them; petitions, invitations, reports, and the like. One of the envelopes caught his attention. It was narrower than the others, inscribed in fine, delicate handwriting, and surprisingly, a slight hint of a rosy perfume emanated from it. Although Emhyr made a point of handling his mail almost ritualistically from top to bottom as it was presented to him, he pulled out this envelope and noticed to his surprise that the letter was not addressed to him at all. It was for Geralt.

What exactly was it that drove him to pull the ornate knife through the envelope and open a letter that was obviously not meant for him? Emhyr preferred to ignore a certain voice inside him, too tempted by the scent and the handwriting. It was, of course, a love letter, a many-line ode to white hair and, by the great sun, strong thighs.

He did not even try to claim that he had opened the letter by mistake, and strangely enough, there was no expected accusation from Geralt as to why he had read his mail. Emhyr felt strange as he presented the letter, and his tone sounded rather strained with amusement as he said, "I guess you have more admirers than you think."

Geralt said nothing to this; he took the letter, skimmed it, made some mocking remark, and put the paper aside. They spoke no more about it, but that night they loved each other again with that distinct fierceness. Their passion was almost painful; still, at the same time, of a kind that needed no words, no explanations. But once again, neither of them drew a connection or wondered what exactly was so different. Those were unprecedented, memorable moments, and in the face of permanent, smoldering danger, they had learned to live in the present: to enjoy what they had, to appreciate when times were quiet.

They might never have talked about it because it might never have happened again – and it would have been all right, a special gift at an ordinary time; a surprise no one expected and could never hope to repeat. Until that particular evening, which seemed almost like a repetition of the first event, a strange deja vu. It had been a particularly long day, a day full of things that threw Emhyr out of his usual routine, and as for Geralt, he had spent hours poring over an old potion recipe that Eskel had sent him and asked him for an opinion on. That they found time for each other was more than a welcome change, and the kisses they exchanged were a mutual assurance that their companionship, their love, would always be their common refuge.

How exactly it came about that Emhyr stumbled upon the pile of letters was hard to reconstruct later, and it was not important. As a matter of fact, a loose piece of paper and a note in a fragrant envelope had turned into a whole bunch of love letters. A pile of love vows, adorations of pale skin and milk-white hair, of tight muscles and... well, powerful privates.

"When did they all arrive?" asked Emhyr, a little stunned, although always trying to keep his composure.

"In recent weeks. Well, months," Geralt admitted bluntly. "Basically since the wedding... I hardly get any to Corvo Bianco, but they seem to find it kind of stimulating to send them here."

He actually seemed blatantly amused by this fact, and Emhyr didn't ask why he had kept the letters. Instead, he pushed Geralt onto the desk, and then across it; and what happened next had as much to do with the word lovemaking from one of the letters as a body of stagnant water has to do with the ocean. It wasn't just rough, it was close to absolute ruthlessness, and it didn't stop at the desk.

The polished stone floor of a plain study room was hardly the appropriate place for the conversation, but now seemed like the right time, and they realized they had simply been delaying the inevitable. It was the floor where they ended, breathless and amazed.

"I don't know why you're angry, but.... could we do this more often?"

Emhyr appeared taken aback as he replied, "What makes you think I'm angry?"

Geralt looked at him for a long moment. His hair was a mess, and he lay there almost shattered. It wasn't true that witchers couldn't blush; there was this particular spot on Geralt's neck that bore witness to the past few minutes. Emhyr couldn't stop staring at it.

"I don't know," Geralt finally replied, "but if that wasn't rage sex..."

"You're still reading those stories," Emhyr sighed. Then he half straightened, propped himself on his elbow, and admitted, "I don't know what that was."

Geralt shook his head. "Are you perhaps jealous?" he asked frankly. "Don't get me wrong; I really want us to do this again. But didn't you notice that it has something to do with the letters?"

"They're love letters, Geralt."

"Yes, and they're flattering, sure, but..."

"Is that what it is about?" asked Emyhr. "Do you want me to compliment you? You're as romantic like an old ass, Geralt, but maybe there's more to you than…"

The words came mockingly, but Emhyr broke off when he saw Geralt's perplexed face. Then he smiled one of his incredibly rare and special smiles.

"You have no idea," he said. "After all this time, you still have no idea how beautiful you are, and that's why part of you doesn't believe that anyone could give you an honest compliment. But another part of you wishes that's exactly what happened, and that's why you kept the letters."

"Men are handsome, not beautiful," Geralt said evasively.

"I suppose it depends on who's looking at them. Anyway, there are obviously more who appreciate your features than you think," Emhyr said as he ran his fingers over some of the scars on Geralt's chest, causing the latter to shiver with pleasure.

"Jealous after all," Geralt returned, almost sounding as flattered as he was by the stately number of letters he had received.

"Stupid after all," said Emhyr, tenderly knocking his fingers against Geralt's sweaty forehead. Considering the fact that he extremely rarely joked, that was almost an accolade. Then, suddenly, he became serious. "You're right," he admitted unexpectedly, "it has to do with the letters. My life is predictable to a certain extent, Geralt. Determined by routines, rules, and regulations, full of constants, and that's good, that's... order. And then there's you. The one undeterminable, the unknown in the equation."

"I bring chaos?" Geralt teased, but Emhyr didn't buy into it.

"You bring life. A whole other constant. Trust without rules. I don't know what it is that keeps you, but it's not power or wealth or prestige. To try to hold you anywhere at all seems to me like trying to... well, let's save comparisons with wild animals. But you could always decide to leave, couldn't you? You are not bound by any etiquette, tradition, or rules."

Geralt shook his head, almost indulgently. He took Emhyr's right hand in his, pressed a kiss on it, and then held it in front of his face.

"Isn't that a bond? Is that not a promise? I don't even know who you think less of, me or yourself."

"I think very highly of you," Emhyr said softly.

"Well, I guess the feeling is mutual. And if I had known that love letters would spur you on like that, I would have written some myself. Besides, you get mail from admirers yourself, my dear."

"In which I am not usually promised kisses on my white neck," his spouse replied dryly.

"Unimaginative," Geralt returned, and his smile shone up to his eyes. "Maybe I really should write some of these letters myself and mix them inconspicuously in with your mail. I could praise myself being a white stallion..."

Emhyr raised his brows and sighed. "You have been reading those books again, haven't you?"

"I don't know where you get that idea. But if you need inspiration outside of corny letters, there's this one, it suggested…"

Geralt leaned forward. White hair and warm breath brushed Emhyr's ear, and at a few whispered words, his eyes widened. He pressed his hands against his witcher's chest, pinning him to the floor.

For this, he did not need instructions.

#writing #fanfiction #fanfic #Emhyr x Geralt #Geralt x Emhyr #witcher 3 fanfiction #Emralt #Emhyralt

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rosethornewrites · 4 years ago

Text

Fic: this body yet survives, ch. 4

Relationship: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén, Lán Qǐrén, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Jiāng Yànlí

Additional Tags: No War AU, Recovery, Trauma, Dissociation, Courtship, Courting Rituals

Summary: A conversation is had with Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen, and Wei Wuxian's trauma is an issue.

Notes: See end

Parts 1 & 2

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3

AO3 link

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

Wei Ying flagged on the path back up the mountain, his previous bright energy replaced by a sort of trudge. He didn’t flit around, made no mention of catching a new rabbit as he had on the way down. He seemed wrung out, exhausted, simply letting Wangji lead him.

When they arrived back in Cloud Recesses, Wangji brought Wei Ying straight to the jingshi, where they released the turtle into the front pond. It was named, Wei Ying insisted, Tang, for the soup it would never become, and the glimpse of his sharp wit was relieving. Wangji found himself more focused on Wei Ying’s peaceful expression, rather than the turtle that sank into the depths of the pond to hide after its ordeal.

After, Wangji wrapped him in a blanket and played ‘Rest’ and ‘Clarity’ to help Wei Ying relax after the unexpected stress of the morning, then watched him nap.

They had a couple of hours before Uncle and xiongzhang expected Wei Ying, before his formal invitation to the sect, and before Wangji would approach the Jiang siblings for permission to court him. The music helped him, as well, nervousness bubbling in him, though logically he knew there was nothing to justify it—Jiang Yanli had made it clear, in her gestures and facial expressions, that she approved, and though he was uncertain how Jiang Wanyin might feel about it, he knew the young man cared about his brother’s happiness.

Wei Ying had consented to the courtship; that was what mattered, and it added a new layer to the anxiety, a lightheaded sort of happiness that he might have assumed in any other situation was the beginning of illness, it was so strong.

But perhaps love was a sort of illness.

Wangji was relieved Wei Ying seemed to be sleeping better, was eating and putting back on the weight he had lost in the year since his near death. He still looked fragile, curled on the bed, his body gaunt and skin pale. But his brow was unfurrowed as he slept, and good sleep was paramount to healing.

He kept playing his guqin, different songs but always returning to one.

Wei Ying woke after a shichen while he was playing WangXian. Wangji glanced up by chance to find him smiling softly, watching him. Wangji finished the song and stilled the strings before rising to go to him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Wei Ying said with a smile, sitting up. “The nap helped.”

Wangji offered a hand, and was gratified when it was taken. He helped Wei Ying up, and then helped him adjust his robes, smoothing any wrinkles.

As it was nearly time to meet with shufu and xiongzhang, they made their way to the hanshi after checking on Tang. The turtle seemed at home, sunning itself on a rock on the far side of the pond. Though it was odd to assign human emotions to a non-human creature, Wangji thought perhaps it looked content.

Xiongzhang answered their knock, opening the hanshi to show shufu waiting at the table with a steaming teapot.

He led them in, smiling and gesturing for them to sit.

Wangji tried not to be nervous, though he clenched Bichen’s textured sheath almost convulsively, a habit he had not quite overcome.

Wei Ying, too, seemed nervous, only barely managing not to drop the teacup shufu handed him. He knew only that their courtship would be discussed, not his status as a disciple of Gusu Lan; Wangji wondered if he should have informed him.

“Wei Ying has consented to a courtship,” he said, deciding to open with that.

“You gifted Mother’s guan as a love token, then,” xiongzhang said, sounding approving.

“My—my guan broke this morning,” Wei Ying admitted. “We- we’re going to get a new one in Caiyi, but Lan Zhan asked if I would wear it always.”

Wangji was delighted to notice the blush on Wei Ying’s cheeks, fetching on his still-too-pale skin.

“We approve, of course,” shufu said. “We also were made aware recently that we were not clear enough about your role in Gusu Lan.”

Xiongzhang pulled a simple box made of rosewood from his sleeve and offered it to Wei Ying, who took it, looking confused.

Inside was a pure white disciple’s ribbon with a light blue embroidered cloud in the center. It was a step above the peripheral disciple’s unadorned ribbon; that he was being given an adorned ribbon was a surprise even to Wangji. He had known Wei Ying would be given a ribbon, but that his denoted his status as higher than peripheral disciples was a clear statement of his acceptance on the part of Gusu Lan.

Wei Ying set the box on the table with shaking hands, glancing up at shufu and xiongzhang speechlessly.

“We should have made it clear from the beginning, and offered this when you arrived in Cloud Recesses,” XiChen told him gently. “Should you wish it, this is your home.”

Wei Ying looked like a startled rabbit, as though he might bolt, his mouth working soundlessly. Wangji reached forward slowly and took his hand, hoping to offer comfort, and was relieved when Wei Ying blinked at him, his eyes clearing.

“But… I’m so bad at following the rules. And you really hated me, xiansheng.”

“You have been following the rules for a year,” Wangji pointed out, not caring to address the latter.

Shufu sighed softly.

“Wei Wuxian, you are brilliant and undisciplined, and during your studies you were quite a bit more exuberant than is thought proper.”

It sounds almost like a rebuke, and Wangji squeezes Wei Ying’s hand.

“You were curious about forbidden topics, and I made judgments based on that curiosity,” Lan Qiren finished. “I was wrong to dismiss you so quickly.”

Even xiongzhang seemed surprised by shufu’s admission.

“Perhaps your exuberance was in part from being out from under the abusive thumb of that woman,” he finished. “Which is completely understandable.”

There was a sheen to Wei Ying’s eyes, and he looked down at his lap, trembling. He seemed beyond speech for a moment.

“No. It just… I was always punished no matter what I did,” he whispered. “I figured if I might as well earn it.”

Wangji ran his thumb against the back of Wei Ying’s hand, hoping to comfort him. Wei Ying looked almost haunted, and he wondered if Madam Yu had whipped him on other occasions, only less severely. He wasn’t certain he wanted to know. Wangji had learned more about abuse in the last year than he ever expected, knew that it likely escalated slowly, starting emotional and slowly normalizing until it was physical.

More realistically, he wondered how often Madam Yu had whipped Wei Ying, how many times he had endured until the last.

Shufu frowned, clearly taking in the new information.

“We intended to offer you a place as a Gusu Lan disciple at the beginning,” xiongzhang said, filling the silence. “I’m afraid we did not make that clear to you.”

A tear broke free and made its way down Wei Ying’s face. He managed a smile, though, one that was so filled with relief it broke Wangji’s heart.

“I guess I’ve followed the rules this long.”

His tone was almost cheeky, and xiongzhang laughed softly.

“You are a boon to Gusu Lan,” shufu said, though he shook his head at Wei Ying’s cheek. “As I said, any sect would be foolish to let go of such a talented young cultivator.”

A distant look passed over Wei Ying’s face.

“You did say that,” he murmured. “You said I would be welcome here. I… It’s hard to remember.”

Xiongzhang looked concerned.

“Do not push yourself to,” he advised.

Wei Ying nodded.

“The healers say my mind is repressing the trauma, that it’s protecting me, but that it can affect me. The memories can pop up, can be triggered.”

He crooks a smile, but it’s tremulous.

“But xiansheng told her off, so that’s a good memory.”

His voice was as tremulous as his smile, and Wangji knew these memories were painful regardless of what he said. Even shufu looked concerned and cleared his throat.

“When you are wed, you will receive a ribbon like Wangji’s, signifying you are a part of the inner Lan clan,” he said, clearly an attempt to distract Wei Ying, one Wangji appreciated.

He was even more pleased when it worked, the tremulous expression disappearing under open-mouthed surprise and elation.

“I’ll… I’ll be inner family?”

Wei Ying’s voice is rough. Wangji remembers suddenly that he was never formally adopted into the Jiang clan, referred to as a ward, often berated as the mere son of a servant by various members of the cultivation world, as though the circumstances of his birth lessened his talent and value. That, combined with constant punishment, had to have tainted his sense of self-worth.

“And you will be my husband,” Wangji added.

The way Wei Ying looked at him then, a tiny, almost dreamy smile gracing his lips, had Wangji clutching Bichen for a different reason—it would be inappropriate to push him against the hanshi wall and kiss him senseless, particularly as they were just beginning their courtship and in front of shufu and xiongzhang.

“That’s the best part,” Wei Ying said softly, and raised their joined hands to his lips to kiss the back of Wangji’s.

His eyes were like hot smoke. Wangji thought he was on fire or might melt, his mind going to the book Wei Ying had slipped in the sleeve of the Tao Te Ching...

Shufu cleared his throat, startling both of them. Xiongzhang, on the other hand, was watching with a little smile. Wangji appreciated that his brother was happy for him, but it was nonetheless embarrassing to have lost himself in front of family.

“Gusu Lan has prepared a betrothal gift for Wangji to present to your siblings,” shufu said, blessedly not commenting otherwise.

“I wish to present it to them today, to formally ask for their blessing,” Wangji added.

A gentle pink blush spread across Wei Ying’s cheeks.

“Am I to be the bride, Lan Zhan?” he asked. “I’m afraid I don’t have a dowry.”

Another wave of heat spread through Wangji’s body, imagining Wei Ying draped in red and gold, lifting a red veil.

“You’ve provided your own dowry,” Xichen replied. “All of those talismans you created, and the ones you will undoubtedly invent in the future.”

“Neither of you are brides,” shufu said. “It will be a wedding of a different sort, but the betrothal gifts in this case are to honor you and make it clear you are valued. Rumors in the cultivation world are often vicious, and it’s best to nip them in the bud by preventing them.”

Wei Ying grimaced at that, and Wangji distracted him by returning the gesture from earlier, bringing their joined hands to his lips to kiss gently. He was pleased when Wei Ying relaxed, smiling at him softly, but he couldn’t help but notice that shufu’s ears had gone red.

“I believe I will accompany the two of you,” xiongzhang said, not bothering to hide his amusement. “It’s fairly clear you will need a chaperone.”

Wei Ying blushed, disentangling their hands, and Wangji could feel his ears were red as well.

“Would you like to put on your forehead ribbon before you go?” shufu asked.

He looked at the box with the ribbon, biting his lip.

“I don’t know the right way to put it on,” Wei Ying confessed softly. “If… I mean, since Lan Zhan’s courting me, can he help?”

Wangji knew without looking, in part from how Wei Ying frowned, that his uncle would not approve until they were officially married. If he knew that just this morning Wangji had combed and styled his hair, he might even be scandalized.

“I would be happy to teach Jiang Yanli,” he said.

It was the right thing to say; Wei Ying lit up.

“Shijie taught me how to… how to do the proper style when I was young.”

His smile turned a little strained.

He was speaking of the Yunmeng Jiang style, Wangji knew, but he had never seen Wei Ying wear it. He suspected this was a delicate topic, one related to the cause of so many of his traumas.

Wangji often disagreed with Jiang Wanyin, but in this case he was of the opinion that lingchi would let Madam Yu off too lightly.

He could tell by the way shufu’s mouth tightened, the way Xichen smiled too widely, that they also understood the implications.

“I see you are wearing your hair in a Gusu Lan style today,” xiongzhang commented, clearly hoping to move the topic lighter.

Wei Ying nodded.

“Lan Zhan helped me, after my guan broke. All… all the rest of mine have… They have lotuses,” he finished in a whisper, looking down at the table.

Xiongzhang closed his eyes, clearly overwhelmed, and shufu stroked his beard, a nervous tic of his. They had been there when Wei Ying was found, had seen the lotuses in the water where he had been weighted down and left to die.

The silence that followed was almost oppressive, and Wangji busied himself topping off their tea just to have a reason to move.

“Perhaps your siblings would be willing to go through your qiankun bags to remove the clothing and other things that have that design,” shufu finally said.

“It would make them sad,” Wei Ying said, his voice small.

That it would upset his siblings made sense; large parts of their childhood had happened among the lotuses, swimming and harvesting them. Wei Ying’s favorite soup was made of them, and Wangji wondered if eating it was difficult for him now, if he showed Jiang Yanli a brave face when she made it while hurting inside, or if he could handle the pods but not the flowers. But they would be more hurt that he felt he had to hide his pain.

“They would prefer to help you,” Wangji pointed out gently. “Knowing would allow them to.”

“They would be more focused on helping you, Wei-gongzi, as they are now,” Xichen added. “It would be prudent to discuss this with them.”

Wei Ying grimaced, but said nothing, instead sipping his tea.

“I can help you speak to them,” Wangji offered.

He was troubled when Wei Ying didn’t cheer up, instead tracing a finger around the lip of the teacup in a pensive manner.

“Wei Ying?” he asked softly.

“You already do so much for me, Lan Zhan.”

Wangji could hear shame in his voice, and he took his hand again. He hated that Wei Ying felt like a burden, hated that he constantly put himself last, that he’d been taught to do so. He had been self-sufficient, trying not to bother others with his pain, until he had nearly died.

If he had been able to hide his near-death, Wangji was certain he would have. That the entire cultivation world knew of it almost certainly weighed on him.

“I will do as much as you need, as long as you need it,” he said. “And I will always want to.”

Wangji didn’t know how to convince him he wasn’t a burden, that his continued existence was a blessing. He could only keep trying to show him.

Wei Ying squeezed his hand, ducking his head and blushing.He could see tears in the corners of Wei Ying’s eyes, and thought perhaps he believed after all.

“Aiya, Lan Zhan, my heart can’t take your sincerity! Warn me next time.”

He knew this was Wei Ying’s way of deflecting in a moment of high emotion, injecting levity to try to avoid getting overwhelmed.

“Mn. This is your ongoing warning,” he replied.

A thrill ran through him when Wei Ying gaped at him, looking delighted. He wanted him to have that happiness always.

“Not fair! You have to warn me every time.”

“Not possible. Wei Ying always deserves sincerity.”

“Lan Zhan!”

A fetching blush spread across Wei Ying’s face, and Wangji caught himself leaning closer unconsciously.

Shufu cleared his throat, and Wangji realized he’d forgotten they were not alone for a moment, so focused he had been on reassuring Wei Ying.

But it seemed since he’d met him, his attention was always on Wei Ying. It belonged on Wei Ying.

“Perhaps we should go speak to the Jiang siblings now, to make your courtship official,” xiongzhang said diplomatically.

Xichen seemed amused, a little smile playing at the edges of his mouth.

“Though we will of course need to arrange for consistent chaperones, as well.”

Wei Ying blushed even brighter than before, and Wangji mentally recited relevant rules. He wanted to kiss those plush lips and the mole under them.

“I would not disrespect Wei Ying,” he said, though truly he could see himself tempted in moments. “But a chaperone would show his worth to the world.”

Shufu made a noise of agreement, stroking his beard.

“Now, more than ever, it is necessary to make that clear.”

It occurred to Wangji then to inform them of the encounter with Madam Jin and Jin Zixuan in the marketplace of Caiyi.

“She wished to keep the purpose of the talismans quiet,” Wei Ying murmured when he was done explaining.

“You accepted her commission, then?” shufu asked, looking surprised.

Wei Ying simply nodded, not offering any other details. He had shrunk in on himself, his posture defensive. Wangji could see that shufu and xiongzhang were concerned.

“Madam Jin mentioned she has dissolved her sworn sisterhood,” Wangji said carefully. “She commissioned talismans to help find Jin Zixuan’s half siblings so she may offer protection and a place in the cultivation world, should they wish it.”

A tremor ran through Wei Ying.

“She said she dissolved it because of what… what happened to me. That she didn’t want…”

Wei Ying choked on his words, and Wangji impulsively pulled him close, holding him as he did when he had finally reached him through “WangXian.”

“She’s going to blame me,” he said weakly. “She will.”

Wangji pulled him tighter against him, almost convulsively. Madam Yu had nearly killed him over something minor comparatively. He could only imagine what was running through Wei Ying’s mind, what memories were being dredged up.

“She will not be permitted in the Cloud Recesses,” xiongzhang said, his voice forceful, angrier than Wangji had ever heard his brother. “You are safe. You will be protected.”

Wei Ying said nothing, only trembled, and Wangji could supply what he was thinking with little effort—he had thought himself safe and protected at Lotus Cove, and it had not been so. How could he possibly feel safe anywhere when his last home turned out not to be?

Seeing him like this was difficult, watching him joke one minute and shake helplessly the next, but some days were like this for Wei Ying. Regardless, it was an improvement over his days of fugue.

“Madam Jin wants the world to know that behavior is unacceptable,” Wangji said hollowly, rubbing his thumb against the nape of Wei Ying’s neck in a way he hoped might comfort him, petting the soft baby hair at his hairline. “She said there needed to be an alternate example.”

Shufu looked intrigued by that, but Wangji kept his focus on Wei Ying. He was surprised to have not been scolded for this transgression, but perhaps his uncle and brother were taking Wei Ying’s mental well-being into account.

“We will speak to her. I assume she and Jin-gongzi will be visiting Cloud Recesses shortly if they are in Caiyi,” shufu said after a moment. “Though gossip is forbidden here, it can be weaponized in the cultivation world.”

Wangji frowned at shufu as Wei Ying’s grip tightened in his robes; he needed no reminder of that. The gossip of the cultivation world had stoked Madam Yu’s bitterness. Wei Ying had lived much of his life under its shadow, and the scars it had left pained him daily.

“Rumors can be turned,” xiongzhang said thoughtfully. “The talisman you will invent for Madam Jin would demonstrate the falseness of prior rumors.”

Such a demonstration would make it clear Wei Ying shared no blood with the Jiangs.

Wei Ying shook his head, still hidden against Wangji’s chest.

“I don’t want to.”

Even his voice trembled, and Wangji’s heart ached. So long ago, they had watched their lantern rise into the evening sky, and he had been awed by Wei Ying’s simple but profound wish, to stand with justice and live with no regrets. What was being proposed skirted the line between justice and revenge. Of course he would be opposed.

“‘Do not sow discord,’” Wangji said softly, ignoring how both his uncle and brother flinched at the reminder they were violating a tenet of Gusu Lan. “Nothing good would come of such a course of action.”

He turned his focus more completely to Wei Ying then, running a hand gently through his hair, humming “WangXian” again softly. Wangji was relieved when he started to relax against him.

“Please accept my apologies, Wei Wuxian,” shufu said eventually.

Though Wangji didn’t know how long it had been since he had spoken, Wei Ying had relaxed almost fully.

“Rumors, whether true or not, have done far too much damage,” xiongzhang acknowledged. “We are humbled by your reminder, Wangji.”

Wei Ying’s grip loosened on Wangji, and he sat back up, still leaning close. He didn’t say anything, but there was a sort of misery in his expression that made Wangji want to pull him back into his arms and protect him.

“I don’t wish her ill,” he whispered finally, his voice hoarse. “Even after everything, I don’t.”

“Wei Ying is righteous,” Wangji murmured, earning a tiny smile from Wei Ying.

So much of his attention was on Wei Ying that until Wei Ying gasped he didn’t realize that both shufu and xiongzhang had kowtowed.

“Our idle words have caused you unnecessary pain,” shufu said, still bowed forward. “I truly misjudged you when you came to the lectures before; you embody the virtues of Gusu Lan.”

“I don’t,” Wei Ying immediately denied. “I break the rules all the time.”

Wangji frowned at him; shufu was not speaking of rules but virtues, and he knew Wei Ying was aware of the difference. He was discounting his own virtue, his inherent goodness, that light in him that had nearly been snuffed out.

“Not the most essential teachings,” xiongzhang said before he could correct him, rising out of his kowtow. “You have the sort of integrity and moral compass that all our disciples should have.”

Wei Ying shrugged slightly, dismissive. Shufu righted himself, frowning.

“Wei Wuxian, perhaps one virtue you must work on is ‘Love and respect yourself.’”

Wei Ying flinched, looking down.

“I will try, xiansheng.”

“See that you do,” shufu replied easily. “I would prefer not to insist you study the virtues, though I will if necessary.”

Wangji wondered if such an exercise would help, if perhaps conversation about the virtues and their history and meaning would help Wei Ying understand what shufu meant, or if he would always doubt his own worth.

“As I am certain Madam Jin and Jin-gongzi will come to visit your sister shortly, we should speak to your siblings now,” xiongzhang said. “They will undoubtedly greet shufu first, so we have some time.”

Nervousness fluttered in Wangji’s stomach, but he helped Wei Ying stand when xiongzhang rose. Wei Ying picked up the box with his forehead ribbon with a sort of reverence.

Before they could move to properly bow to shufu and leave, there was a knock on the hanshi door.

“Enter,” shufu called.

One of the peripheral disciples, from his unadorned ribbon, came in and bowed.

“Jin-furen and Jin-gongzi have arrived at the Cloud Recesses and seek audience, xiansheng. They are being escorted here now.”

Shufu nodded.

“I will prepare tea. Please accompany Xichen, Wangji, and Wei Wuxian. There are several baskets to carry.”

He gestured toward a screen, behind which presumably were the betrothal gifts. The disciple bowed.

“Yes, xiansheng.”

Wei Ying shifted nervously as the baskets were brought out, all decorated in red ribbon and draped in red veil-like material to hide the contents from prying eyes. Wangji squeezed his hand. They would be together for this, and for all things to follow.

---------

This chapter was difficult and went places I didn’t entirely expect. Initially I thought it would get through the betrothal meeting, but Wei Wuxian’s trauma reared up and was important to explore. In the novel canon, Madam Yu has whipped him before the incident with Wang Lingjiao, but she whips no other Yunmeng Jiang disciples. Meanwhile, in CQL canon it seems to be an act that is completely shocking to Jiang Cheng, while Wei Wuxian accepts it as necessary for political reasons.

The Gusu Lan forehead ribbons here are kind of a meld of CQL and novel canon. Inner clan in the novel wear the embroidered ribbon, but in CQL there seems to be three levels, as Lan Wangji is shown wearing the metal cloud ribbon as a child and both Jingyi and Sizhui wear ones with an embroidered cloud, while some other disciples have unadorned ribbons. Technically, Wei Wuxian should probably have a plain ribbon, but here Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen are making a statement.

Yes, frankencanon. The rule about sowing discord is from CQL according to Unforth’s “A Compiled List of Known Lan Clan Rules.”

#the untamed #mo dao zu shi #chen qing ling #cql #mdzs #untamed fanfiction #untamed fanfic #mdzs fanfic #mdzs fanfiction #cql fanfic #cql fanfiction #lan wangji #lan qiren #lan xichen #wei wuxian #wei ying #lan zhan #my fanfiction

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laceymorganwrites · 4 years ago

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Milestones: Atsumu

SPOILER WARNING: I TALK ABOUT THINGS THAT HAPPEN IN THE MANGA

Asking you out

Okay so, Tsumu isn´t one for dates or relationships, that boy hasn´t ever been in love. It´s all physical for him, all the confessions he got meant nothing to him, he doesn´t have time for this shit.

And he communicates this with his partners as well, he´s not as cruel as to lead them on. Well, not anymore at least. He always gets real mad and confused when they get their heart broken and yell at him for that, it´s their fault for catching feelings either way.

So, for him to catch feelings for a change. Let me just say, this man feels so stupid and denies it for as long as he possibly can. Of course he approached you mutliple times with certain suggestions you kindly declined. He didn´t make a big deal out of it, he couldn´t expect everyone to be utterly attracted to him like that. But he was surprised when you didn´t push him away when he asked to stay in contact with you, he could actually talk to you and have nice conversations.

This has never happened to him, so for Atsumu to even consider catching feelings you have to be friends first, personally I just don´t see him as a person to fall head over heels all of a sudden and ask the person out a second later. He needs to know if they´re able to handle him as a person before he can consider approaching them romantically. That way they already know him, his faults and the circumstances of his job.

If they are still okay with that, he´s impressed. At that point he will allow himself to feel the feelings he tried so hard to push away. Osamu and his team mates actually need to pressure him into asking you out. He´s hella scared though and over the moon when you say yes, he´s never felt this kind of excitement before.

Now, when you ask him on the other hand... this boy might just skip to marriage right now. Like, you actually tolerated him?? And want to be more intimate with him? Why? He is so confused, poor boy doesn´t get it, he´s so exhausting and annoying at times, why would you do this to yourself? But he says yes of course and then annoys his brother and team mates about what to wear etc.

First date

He wants to impress you as much as possible, so he really goes all out. Only to revoke any adventureous ideas he had because he doesn´t know whether you like them or not. He wouldn´t want to do anything you don´t enjoy and he beats himself up over not communicating it with you.

In the end he aks Osamu (yes, that´s how desperate he is) to help him and his brother agrees on the condition that Atsumu has to leave him alone for two weeks (meaning no insults etc.)

You must be special since Tsumu agrees and Samu closes up his shop for the day for the two of you.

When Atsumu comes to pick you up, he´s so over the top, he´s got a little gift for you (something stupid that reminds him of you), he even dressed up nicely and tried to do a nice hairstyle (normally he really couldn´t care less about his appearance because he´s a cocky little bitch).

He´s more nervous than he´d like to admit and spends half the day complimenting you (he´s not much of a smooth talker, he doesn´t have the patience for it and frankly speaking you´re making him lose his cool, so he tells you bluntly and honestly how wonderful he thinks you are)

First kiss

Every second that passes he thinks about kissing you, but he doesn´t want to make you uncomfortable, he doesn´t want to pressure you or anything.

It´s the first time he invited you to a game of his, you feel very special because you know how he is with his fangirls, you don´t want to distract him.

Honestly, you have to hold yourself back when you watch him play, maybe it was just your feelings for him, but when the game was over you couldn´t wait to see and congratulate him.

Somehow watching him left you feeling brave, you were full of adrenaline and quickly walked up to him when he was done. He noticed that and started giving you the softest and widest smile you have ever seen. Atsumu embraces you in a warm hug and you don´t want it to ever end.

“Kiss me...” you whisper and he happily obliges.

First one Saying I love you

Atsumu says is first in the moment he realizes it. It´s probably way too soon, but he can´t keep anything to himself.

Don´t expect anything planned or a romantic speech, he just bluntly tells you what he feels.

He´s an emotional guy, so when you say it back he´ll probably start crying.

Sharing a bed

This will only happen when he has training in the morning and you´re also free in the afternoon. He wants to spend as much time with you as possible, but is also really tired from training because he´s overdone it again.

You notice how worn out he is and suggest to take a nap together before doing anything else.

Atsumu doesn´t have the energy to complain, so he quickly takes a shower and throws on an old shirt and boxers, handing you a shirt of his too to wear.

You both crawl into his bed, he immediately falls asleep, you rest your head on his chest and slowly drift off too.

Ever since then you have more sleepovers. Sleeping next to you calms him down incredibly.

Moving in

You actually moved in pretty quick, being judged by everyone for it.

But honestly, you were sick of never seeing him, you were sick of Atsumu never taking care of himself and you were always at his anyway, so when he asked you someday you said yes immediately.

His team mostly supports you (minus Sakusa for obvious reasons) and helps you move your things to his. Osamu also helps but only to lecture his brother about how this isn´t a good idea and he should´ve thought about it more.

Being intimate

Intimacy is so scary and foreign to him since he never experienced it before.

Hell, his brother hates him, yeah he has a few friends, but they´re not that close because of his walls. His perfectionist nature really makes it hard for him to allow vulnerability and admit defeat sometimes.

You are the first one he will take this step with, yes his fangirls love him but they don´t know him. Not like you do.

He still can´t believe that he opens up to you that much.

So the biggest sign of intimacy for him is PDA since he loves showing you off to the world. He loves spoiling you silly and finally being allowed to tell his fangirls off because he´s taken.

Sharing everything

You always thought he was too cocky and arrogant for his own good, that was how he presented himself the first time you two met, but you knew there was more to it.

Especially after the next few times you met.

You knew he wanted to be absolutely perfect and always worried about him overworking himself.

One day everything went wrong in training, he couldn´t get any good hits, his serving sucked and he couldn´t sync with Hinata.

He came home and broke down, not caring about you seeing him.

You freaked out a bit since this was the first time you saw him crying and gave him a big, warm hug.

Atsumu kept crying into your body, hugging you back tightly and telling you about how shitty his day was.

He ended up confessing to his insecurities, how he was never good enough, no matter what he did and that he always fucked up and that he could understand everyone who hated him, how you deserve so much better than him....

Honestly, comforting Atsumu is going to be a common thing in your relationship, you have to learn to pick up on his mood swings and know when to give him space and when to be there for him.

Loosening up

It doesn´t take him long at all to loosen up around you, he finds it so easy to be himself around you. Yeah, he´s pretty stupid sometimes but he can admit that around you and he´s so happy that you accept this side of him.

He loves telling you funny things that happened at training and about the million times he disappointed or pranked his brother.

He´s really clumsy but tries to hide it from you since he wants to be perfect to you.

But after you already seeing his most vulnerable side, he also tells you about the most horrible fan meeting where he slipped in front of everyone.

When you laughed he didn´t feel so bad about it anymore and when he slips at home once in a while or trips over the air or something like that, he doesn´t find it as embarrassing anymore when it´s just you who sees it.

Proposal

This could go two ways.

He´d either propose to you in front of everyone after an important game or he would take you to the same place you went on your first date.

Either way Atsumu goes all out, you are so important to him and he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, he doesn´t want to imagine his life without you.

Prepares a whole ass speech but once he sees you, he forgets all of his words.

Is totally the type to forget the ring too.

Marriage

The preperation is hell.

Good luck finding a date where everyone is available.

Atsumu pays for a wedding planner who helps you because he´s so busy with work. He helps as much as he can, but he can´t go to any tastings with you since he can´t take a day off just like that.

However you will text and facetime each time you´re out to get something, discussing which flowers to get, what tablecloth etc.

That way he´s still there even though he can´t physically be.

Cries during his vows, has to do them over again (he´s so proud of the vows though, he had everyone read them over to find any mistakes).

Hinata and Bokuto join him because they have to tear up too.

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #hq #hq imagine #hq headcanons #hq hcs #hq atsumu

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lemonjoonah · 5 years ago

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The Shoulder on Which You Cry (M)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, Namjoon x Reader, Mention of Yoongi x Reader Word Count: 11K Rating: M Genre: Romance, Drama, Hometown AU, Fluff, Angst Warnings: Drinking, Smut Scenes (Unprotected Sex, Fingering, Slight Amount of Thigh Riding)

Summary: After moving away from your hometown five years ago, you’ve struggled on every return. Each trip back being made out of haste due to an unfortunate event in your life. Namjoon has always been there to help you through those moments. But when he can’t be there to support you during your current trip home, Jungkook offers to stay by your side and be the comfort you need.

A/N: Definitely not the typically genre I write in but I thought I would give it a shot, I would love to hear your feedback! I came up this story after listening to Intro: Persona for the first time (it’s been in my head for a couple months now), using the line, ‘I just wanna give you all the shoulders when you cry,’ as my inspiration.

...

“Fuck,” you mutter repeatedly as you grip the narrow armrest next to you. The women sitting beside you throws you a disgruntled look, prompting you to whisper an apology as turbulence continues to rattle the plane.

Flying is by no means your favourite pastime. You knew that it would become an issue when you moved away. You’re almost thankful that your career goals have kept you chained to your desk instead of enduring this torture on a more frequent basis. Now your trips home have become few and far between, returning only when it was absolutely necessary.

This place was once filled with such good memories holidays, birthdays, graduations. But now in the past five years it seems like you’ve only returned for unfortunate circumstances events like, the divorce of your parents, your father’s car accident, or the death of your grandmother. Leaving your hometown to become a grim retreat. You’ve come to fear this town and all that it represents, but there’s always been one bright spot in the form of Kim Namjoon.

...

You slowly shove the last box of your father’s into the back of the truck. That’s it, there’s nothing left between them, what’s his is his and what’s hers is hers. When you first heard the news you wondered what could have gone wrong, why did it have to escalate to this? If you had been home could you have seen the warning signs? Could you have urged them to seek help and work things out?

Your father claps you on the back thanking you for your help before starting the engine and driving off. Leaving you alone in the driveway. Your mother had gone to stay with her sister while your father removed his belongings. You have no desire to reenter the empty house just yet, the emotions of the day are still too raw. At least in the yard with the warm breeze on your face and the cicadas buzzing your world feels a little more full. After the physical and mental toll of the move you take a rest in the shade of a tree, closing your eyes for just a moment.

“You know most people find somewhere comfortable to nap. A bed, a chair, but no you prefer the ground outside.” Namjoon hovers over you with his soothing tone.

“Most people didn’t spend the day lifting heavy boxes,” You groan back at him. “Who called you to say I was here?”

“Your mother.”

“Of course she did...” It’s no secret, she’s had always tried to push you and Namjoon into a deeper relationship than your current friendship. She thought he would convince you to stay, that he might keep you here when you had made a new life elsewhere. Even now she hopes he will bring you back, and at times like this you worry that she might be right.

Namjoon sits down next to you on the grass, pulling the blades of greenery between his fingers. “Was that everything?”

“Yep, he is officially moved out.” You struggle to keep your tone even.

“And how are you doing with all of this?” He asks cautiously as if the question might inflict even greater pain.

“Fine.” You mutter looking down at the ground

“Liar,” Namjoon scoffs back.

“What? It’s not like I’m the one getting divorced, why should it matter?” You retort your tone falling to a whisper as you reach the end of your rational.

“Because this affects you too. You’re allowed to be upset.”

“Not as much as it affects them.” You remain focused on the ground trying to fight the emotions he brings to the surface.

Namjoon lifts your chin to focus his sights on you and your reaction, “Really? You should tell that to the tears in your eyes.” He shifts closer to you under the tree letting your head rest on his shoulder and your tears fall upon his shirt.

...

Namjoon has always been there for you as a friend since you were young. Living just across the street for most of your life, helping you whether your problem be a skinned knee or a difficult test. Even as your feelings for your town grown dim, he refuses to give in, he is that one light which refuses to fade.

When your father had been hurt car wreck, Namjoon was by your side from the second your flight had landed. He stayed at the hospital with you until visiting hours were over and then proceeded to make sure you got home safe. There were tears then too when you realized there was nothing you could do. But Namjoon didn’t shy away, he came in and held you close.

You’ve lost count of how many shirts of his you’ve ruined with mascara. You haven’t been back for two years since your last trip, your grandmother's funeral. He had been the one to take you in then, with all of your family at your house there was little place for you to stay, so Namjoon graciously offered up his spare room.

...

After the funeral you both take a seat on the sofa, the light of the day slowly fading outside. His house is beautiful and comfortable but it’s so large just for him, despite the warmth of the wooden furnishings it feels somewhat cold and empty. However for him this home is a step in the direction of the dream that he’s always told you of, the hope that one day he would have a family. One that he could grow with in this town that he loves.

His arm crosses around your shoulders as a movie plays on the screen in front of you. You tuck into his chest and close your eyes when the strain becomes too much.

His fingers comb through your hair with a soothing touch pulling the strands from you face. Its when his lips touch the top of you head you open your eyes to look up at him.

“Namjoon?”

He looks down at you with a conflicted expression before closing the gap between you. His lips take yours in a desperate fashion. Your mind starts to swim with the possibilities of what could be. The clothes discarded on the floor of his bedroom. Your back pushed into the mattress as Namjoon hovers over you. His eyes meeting yours as he presses himself between your legs.

You gasp at the thought encouraging him to pull you closer, his hands coming to rest on your cheek and lower back locking you in place on top of him. You can’t deny your feelings for him, those have always been very apparent and without question. The problem rests with the cost of staying together. The life you’ve created far away, the one you’ve worked so hard to build, it would all be gone. The thought of staying in this town has never held joy for you, and it’s only gotten worse as you’ve parted. As much as you want to stay with Namjoon, you can’t remain here.

You push away from him. Trying to find a way to explain yourself, when Namjoon opens the discussion for you. “Ask me to go back with you.”

“W-what?” Your breath catches from the shock of his offer.

“Ask me to be with you and I will. I’ll leave this life behind and follow you.”

The selfish side of you is so overwhelmed, so eager to accept his proposal. Screaming at you to say the words he’s requesting of you. But you can’t do it, not with the man who’s always been so supportive of you.

“You’d never ask me to stay, please don’t expect me to ask that of you. It wouldn’t be right Namjoon, you wouldn’t be happy there, just like I wouldn’t be happy here.”

“Do you love me?” His crestfallen face begs the question of you, as if asking for a reason to discard his dream.

The simple ‘yes’ rests on the tip of your tongue but you refuse to let it out. “You have to stay,” Your voice cracks but you hold firm, knowing you would never forgive yourself if you took this dream away from him. You know he’ll find someone who wants this life as much as he does.

...

As the airport comes into view below, you begin to dread the landing, and the arrival home. You’ll cry on this trip too there’s no doubt about it, but this time Namjoon won’t be able to offer his shoulder in comfort.

The customs agent leads with the question you dread most on every return. “What’s the reason for your visit?”

Your throat immediately tightens at the thought, you swallow before spitting out the words, “A wedding...”

Namjoon’s wedding... he called you a month ago to issue the invitation. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, he had already bought your plane ticket and was sending you the information. He confessed that he had a favour to ask of you when he sees you, but you didn’t care at the time the majority of what he said didn’t register with you after the words ‘I’m getting married’.

You knew he was dating someone but he didn’t go into details. That part of his life is rarely shared with you since the exchange after your grandmother's funeral. You should have been prepared for this, it’s what you wanted for him, you know that you did the right thing, but it still hurts so much.

After a short taxi ride you check into the same hotel where the wedding is to take place. Choosing to stay alone rather than reside at your mother’s, where you would be barraged with her constant comments on how it should have been you standing beside him all dressed in white.

...

It’s a large affair, the ceremony and reception rolled into one event, and you are seated at a round table with many of Namjoon’s friends. You recognize several faces from long ago but much to your embarrassment you’ve forgotten many of their names. You sneak a glance at your neighbours place card before greeting them. In anticipation you do the same for the empty seat beside you, reading ‘Jungkook’... yours and Namjoon’s neighbour from when you were kids and one of your oldest friends.

You smile as you recall the scrawny doe eyed child who used to follow Namjoon everywhere like a fawn following a parent. Even though there’s only a few years between them, Jungkook still looked up to his elder with great admiration and in return Namjoon always cared for him like a younger sibling. You remember how you were both eager for Namjoon’s attention as kids. As you grew your dynamic didn’t change much, even when you and Namjoon briefly dated in high school he was a constant third wheel.

You haven’t seen or spoken to him in years, not since you moved away. You tried to keep in contact but it would seem that distance and time had gotten in the way. It’s a shock when a sturdy man, with wavy hair, takes the seat next to you. “Noona, it’s been a while!”

You choke on your water. Finding it difficult to see the boy you used to know in the man sitting next to you. “Jungkook?”

He smiles and you relax, it’s definitely him, you would recognize his bowing smile anywhere. But finding it attached to such a built figure is unexpected and slightly intimidating.

“It’s good to see you,” you return the smile. “How have you been?”

“Good, can’t complain business is going well. How about you, how’s life abroad?”

“Busy, I’m just lucky I was able to make it make it back for this.”

As the ceremony starts the chatter dwindles. Namjoon looks dashing in a three-piece suit and his bride statuesque in white. There’s a brief moment of tears from her which Namjoon promptly wipes away as he had done for you so many times. You’re stunned when you see her reaching to his face, knowing full well that Namjoon would rather bury his than put them out on display, but there they are rolling down his cheeks.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen him cry...” You whisper as you watch the couple. All those years he had been the one to give you strength when needed and yet he’s never shown his own weakness. They might be tears of happiness today, but they are still hers to wipe away. She’ll be there for him in ways you never could, she’ll be his strength.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Jungkook glance over to take in your comment, but he doesn’t press you for any further explanation.

You sit in silence for the rest of the ceremony and throughout the dinner. A mixture of happiness and longing as you watch the new couple take their seats. Friends step up to the microphone telling stories of how they met and moments that you had missed. Wrenching further emotional reactions from you as the speakers recount the love between the newlywed pair.

As the cake is served the table begins to empty and disperse giving you the freedom to leave your seat without rudeness. Jungkook had already slipped away several minutes before when a few of the bridesmaids began to hang around the table.

The door to the garden is open prompting you to grab your glass of champagne and steal a moment of fresh air.

Passing the rows of fairy lights you spot in the far corner a table between the hedges, hidden away from the others, with only one other occupant, the missing Jungkook.

“Can I sit here?” You ask nodding to the seat next to him.

He looks up from his phone with his wide eyes and nods. He shifts in his seat sitting up straighter before looking back down at his phone.

You glance over to see him on twitch watching an Overwatch match. Your happy to see that he hasn’t changed entirely over the years apart.

The door to the event room opens to a gaggle of young women. Jungkook’s head jerks up as they call out his name, but not out of acknowledgement, judging from his expression it’s more so a panic of being found.

You snicker into your glass as you watch him slink back down in his seat hiding from his admirers. He gives you a pleading look as to not reveal his location. You nod and smile back to him, his fear breaks into relief. Once they retreat back inside you begin to pester him regarding his suitors. “Still afraid of girls Jungkook? That’s quite the following you have there.”

“I’m not afraid of girls! They want to drag me back in there, you know I don’t like crowds.”

“Nice try you were totally afraid of me growing up. You were worried that I would steal Namjoon away from you.”

“I wasn’t afraid of you...” He nurses what’s left of his beer in sadness, probably realizing he’ll have to go in if he wants to get more.

You get up from your seat and extend a hand for his glass to take it in. “Another drink?”

His eyes brighten and a grin returns to his face, “Please...th-thank you Noona.”

You chuckle as he continues to call you with such familiarity, despite having been apart for so long.

“Is it okay... that I still you that?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back.”

...

You hand him a full glass and take your seat once again under the dim glow of the lights.

“So what do you do now?”

“I have a repair shop,” Jungkook mutters quietly.

“Really? How did you get into that?” Hearing that Jungkook actually owns his own business comes a surprise.

“Opened it together with a friend of mine. I never thought it would get as big as it has though...”

“That’s great if it is, I’m sure you’re parents must be proud,” You smile back at him confidently.

“They are...” Eyes look down to the ground. “I think they’re holding out for something like this though.” He tilts his head in the direction of the ballroom.

“I know what you mean.” You scoff as you take a sip of your champagne.

He starts to ask about you own life, but with the sound of the door you pause your answer to warn him, “Looks like your club is going to be making another round for you.” You watch as he winces at the inevitable, “Why don’t you just go home? Everything seems to be winding down.”

“My ride is in there, dancing the night away I’m sure.”

“I have a room,” You blurt out much to your own surprise, slightly bewildered by your own offer. Maybe it’s because you don’t want to be alone, or maybe you took pity on the shy man next to you, but you stick with it despite your own confusion. “I have my computer to stream, full mini bar...” You laugh in spite of yourself, what you definitely did not expect is for him to take you up so adamantly.

“Yes! Get me out of here please.”

While Jungkook practically dashes in and through the ballroom for the exit, you pause to take one last look at the glowing couple surrounded by their family. Namjoon had given you so much throughout the years the least you could do for him in this moment was be happy for him. You lock eyes and give him a bright smile not wishing to intrude on this moment of his before slipping quietly out the door.

Jungkook waits for you in front of the elevator. Finally seeing him in the full light of the lobby is a staggering sight, the suit neatly trimmed against his built form, you find the fabric taut against his chest and thighs. His lips pull back giving you a view of his clenched teeth as he stares around clearly hoping not to be spotted.

“Are you sure there’s nothing else wrong? You honestly look like you’re avoiding more than just a group of giggling girls.”

Jungkook nods, “You haven’t meet Hoseok or Jimin, if they find me no doubt they’ll physically drag me out. Which is why I want this damn elevator to hurry up!” He pushes the already lit elevator button several times for good measure.

The second that the door cracks open he grabs your arm and pulls you in with him. A loud sigh breaks from him as they close.

You give him a smile in sympathy remembering how he used to cling to you or Namjoon in social situations like this.

You unlock the room, and head in grabbing the ice bucket before stepping out again. “Go ahead make yourself comfortable I’ll be back in a second.”

His level of comfortable is far more relaxed than you had anticipated. Your old friend had no problem stripping down to his undershirt and pants, while making himself at home on your bed.

You avert your eyes when you reenter and open the mini fridge finding several small bottles of liquor.

You hand him a strong drink over ice laughing at how he cringes with the first sip. “You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to.”

“No it’s okay it just takes me a bit to get used to it.”

“It’s funny to think, but last time I saw you you weren’t even drinking age... I can’t believe it’s been five years.”

“Do you miss it here?” He asks with a slight worry, looking into his glass, “After being gone so long do you find yourself wanting to come back?”

“No, not really, not anymore. Don’t get me wrong I still miss people but with each trip home I feel more and more like I’m a stranger to this place. There used to be some comfort here for me, but it’s a bit more complicated now...” You can’t help but be saddened by the thought.

“Namjoon hyung, you and he-”

You look to Jungkook with a slight dampness in your eyes willing it to stay in place and not let it cascade down your cheeks. He notices your grief and switches to a more pressing question.

“Noona... do you still have feelings for him?”

You give a slow pained nod, “Please don’t say anything, and don’t tell him that I was upset. It’s foolish really, it never would have worked between us. His life is here, it’s what he’s always wanted, but I wanted to leave, I had other goals.”

He nods in understanding, “How bad is it?”

“Pretty bad, definitely more than one should care for a married man...” You hate every word of your confession. You chose this and yet here you are grieving. A tear falls and you are sick of it, you’re sick of crying over things you can’t change. “Fuck I’m sorry.”

Jungkook’s hand comes to rest on your knee, rubbing circles with his thumb, and lingering far longer than you expected him too. “No it’s okay, I’m surprised you came if you still feel this way.”

“Namjoon was very insistent. I think he thought he was being kind. I figured it would be best to support him.” You hesitate before asking the next question, “Do you know her well? Will she... is she a good fit for him?”

“I do, and I think so. They seem very happy when they’re together.” He pauses and looks to you, “I was surprised when he let you go though, I thought he really cared for you too.”

“No I told him to stay. I could never ask him to come with me.”

“Then he should have gone off his own accord,” Jungkook reasons.

“That’s sweet of you to say,” you chuckle lightly, “but our dreams were both bigger than each other. It was time to let go.”

“But you haven’t let go yet.”

“No... I haven’t.”

“And why is that?” He prods.

“He’s been one of the few people I really connect with, someone who enjoys being with me even when I'm an emotional wreck. I’m doubtful that I’ll find that again...” You give the easier answer failing to mention the fear that’s been holding you back. The fear of finding someone, of falling too deep and the pain that follows when it inevitably comes time to part. You worry that if you let go of Namjoon someone else will fill that void and the cycle would repeat.

You’ve had one night stands and hookups, but nothing beyond that. The longest connection you’ve had with someone is with a man by the name of Yoongi, but that’s purely for physical relief. He’s very upfront about a no strings attached arrangement, and it works for your purposes too.

“You’ll find someone,” Jungkook states confidently.

“And how do you know that?”

“Why do you think I’m here?”

“To avoid your fan base...” You can’t help but snort at him.

But he only rolls his eyes. “Because I’ve enjoyed your company tonight.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Yes it is Noona! I haven’t seen you in years and yet you still feel comfortable to be around. Do you see me running away from you?”

Jungkook’s hand trails up your leg as if to make a point. “Just because it didn’t work out with Namjoon doesn’t mean you can’t find someone else. It doesn’t mean you can’t be happy.”

You’re enjoying his company far too much. The warmth of his fingers on your skin. You should never have invited him up here. He is far too tempting and dangerous of a rebound. “You should go, I’m sure there all finished by now.”

“Why? Because you’d rather wallow away in your pain alone? Stop punishing yourself, you came here to be supportive, you did nothing wrong. You’re allowed to be upset.” Hearing Jungkook speak the words that Namjoon had said before hits you hard, leaving you defenceless as he continues, “What if I want to stay? Are you going to push me away? I didn’t just come up here to hide out Noona. I wanted to make sure that you were okay, you’re awful at hiding your grief and I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to make you feel better.”

He moves in closer placing a hand on your upper chest and softly pushes you down pinning you beneath him. “Look me in the eye and tell me you want me to leave. Tell me you’d be happier if I left you alone tonight.”

How can someone who seems so innocent be so commanding. His legs are strong on either side of your thighs. One hand now holds him off the mattress while the other tilts your chin. His eyes search yours looking for the honest answer. “Tell me what you want.”

“Please stay...” You whisper, ashamed by your need.

He obliges locking your arms behind his neck and lifting you off the bed pulling the sheets back before climbing under the blankets with you. Joining him under the covers adds an unexpected level of intimacy for such a sudden affair. The warm weight of his body presses you down into the mattress as he nuzzles your neck.

“Jungkook...”

“Yes Noona?” He asks in a soft voice.

“Would you... would you kiss me?” He pulls his head up to meet your eyes again and you begin to worry about what you had just requested, “don’t feel like you-”

Before you can finish your panicked thought his lips come down onto yours. His mouth moving with yours as his had palms your cheek. The faint taste of his beer and liquor eases into your mouth along with his tongue.

Your chest pushes back against his as you attempt to draw in deep breaths.

“What else do you want?” He mutters against you.

You fiddle to undo the zipper embedded the side of your dress desperate to feel his warm skin against yours. His fingers join in the attempt to pull it down lifting himself off you so the fabric can be pushed down your frame, with his fingers making sure to trail along the exposed skin as he does so.

He holds the seam of his own shirt and looks to you as if asking if it would be okay. You promptly nod, you had felt the definition muscles as he pressed against you but seeing them is a wonderful sight to behold.

He flips you over to your stomach, your face presses into the pillow, your lipstick no doubt staining the case.

With the clink of his belt behind you find yourself squirming between his thighs, excited by the thought of one less layer between you. While he takes off his pants you reach back to unlatch your bra sliding it off and free from beneath you.

He returns to his lowered position on top of you. His chest resting against your back is so warm, the weight extremely comforting. He kisses the top of your shoulder before moving back towards your neck. You feel almost smothered beneath him with the blanket trapping in the heat.

One of his hands caresses the length of your arm while the other wedges itself between your stomach and the bed. His cock pressed against the seat of your ass ready and willing but Jungkook places his attention elsewhere. He pushes your underwear to the side finding the sensitive nub and devoting a rhythm of shallow circles to the nerves.

He whispers in your ear “Do you just want me to hold you like this, or do you want more?”

You nod for more, your hand reaching back to feel for his shaft beneath the cotton of his underwear.

He moves to pull the concealed erection from the fabric of his boxers. Giving it a quick stroke before lining himself up with your entrance, pushing between your dampened folds with the head of his cock. You return grip the pillow as he plunges inside. A swear drops from his mouth along with a groan.

Your head arches back while a hand comes to grip the apex of your neck, with a commanding grip. Though he takes you from behind you’ve never felt anything so close, so intimate. The full rhythm of his thrust has you aching for more after a few minutes, causing your hips start to buck back into his crotch. “Noona if you keep doing that I’m not going to last.”

You moan as his fingers pick up speed in retaliation. You can feel yourself tighten around him as he draws you closer. There’s a pleading whine in your ear as Jungkook begs you to come for him. His fingers grip tighter on your throat making your head swim as you reach the peak and begin to quake from the tremor that surges through you.

You’re not sure how long he laid on top afterwards, or when he moved to his back tugging you into the nook of his arm. So lost in a daze you don’t care. It just feels good for once to fall asleep in someone else's arms, and to see him still there by the time morning comes around.

...

You slowly dress yourself as he smiles up to you from the bed. “How long before you go back?”

“A few days.” You explain, “I thought I would take some extra time to visit my family.”

“Give me your phone.” He holds out his large hand waiting.

You humour him knowing that even if he puts his number in you should probably keep your distance. You don’t want to give him any mixed signals that you might be looking for more.

...

The second you step into your mother’s house there’s a barrage of questions about the wedding. Who was there? How lavish was it? Did the couple look happy?

“I give it two years tops.” Your mother adds, “He’ll be single again before you know it.”

“Mom?! I’m not having this discussion. Namjoon is happy, he’s made his choice.”

“Sweetheart I’m just thinking about you,” She softens her tone but you still find it difficult to swallow.

Giving up on any civil conversation after an hour, you exit the house to take refuge in the garden. Seeing Namjoon’s childhood house across the street, and the tree in your own yard under which you both sat, is almost as painful as the topic you mother refuses drop.

Looking for a distraction you busy yourself with the weeds that have taken hold of the flower beds. The sun beats down burning the back of your neck as you yank the dandelions from the dusty ground. Your frustration grows over the realization that the only questions she’s asked have been about your love life, with not one thought to what you are doing with your career or if you’re happy where you are. No her focus lies primarily on you obtaining the golden band that has the potential to drag you home. And now the weeds of the garden are paying for it dearly as you take your aggression on them, not giving in until the sun is significantly lower in the sky.

“Jeez what did they do to you?” The joking voice of Jungkook asks behind you will looking to the wilting pile of greenery.

“I kept picking them hoping that one of them could answer my wish, but unfortunately I’m still here.”

“But you’re missing one important step.” He picks up one of the discarded dandelion heads, closes his eyes and blows away the seeds.

The innocent sight brings a smile to your face, “Your right, how could I have forgotten?”

“That’s okay you don’t need to wish on a weed when I can easily grant that for you. Let me take you out for the night.”

“You don’t want to hang out with me right now I’m a mess.”

“Then at least let me give you a ride back to the hotel. I’m heading in that direction anyway, I just came by to see my parents but I’m heading off now.”

You consider his offer, if you left alone your mother would never let you hear the end of it. But if you left with Jungkook... you could possibly kill two birds with one stone and have some form of peace for the rest of your visit.

“Okay, but I’m going to need you to follow my lead for a minute. Don’t say anything, just smile and nod if you have to.”

You step into back into the kitchen for a moment calling out to your mother. “Mom I’m going to head out, I have a date with Jungkook.”

There’s a brief silence and then a flurried rush of steps from the other house before your mother pokes her head out with a surprised grin. “What?! Why didn’t you tell me?” With his parents still living across the street your sure she’s overjoyed by the thought.

Jungkook takes the act very well waving to your mother, “Hi Ms.-”

You push him out the door before he can finish his greeting knowing she’ll want him to stay for her game of 20 questions. “I’ll be by again tomorrow,” You call out to her, before turning back to Jungkook and mouthing a thank you.

He smiles back to you taking his role very seriously he grabs hold of your hand and leads you to his car where he opens the door. If your mom was watching out the window, you’re sure that this would convince her.

You take a deep breath as you get into the car, throwing Jungkook a smug look, “I owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it. This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to forge a relationship”

“Why would the boy with a fan club need a fake girlfriend?” You ask, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“For the same reason you would.”

“Oh, so your mom wanted you to marry Namjoon too?” You chuckle at him unable to contain yourself.

Jungkook bursts into a fit of laughter clutching the wheel. “Not exactly, just family pressures. And me finding it difficult to... commit I guess would be the best way to put it.”

“Lucky for you I won’t be here in a couple days, so that won’t be an issue.” You breathe a sigh of relief, if he has difficulty committing spending time with him shouldn’t become an issue later on.

“Yeah... lucky I guess.”

He parks the car in front of the hotel and thank him for the ride. But you look over in confusion as he gets out too.

“Why-”

“You told your mom we’re going for a date.”

“Yeah but not actually.”

“Oh...” His expression falls looking dejected.

Fuck... why does he have to look like a kicked puppy when he’s sad, it’s not fair. You give a small huff, it would be easier to maintain the lie if you stuck around with him. “Fine, I need a shower first though.”

His face lights up and he follows you back up to your room taking up residence on the bed to wait for you.

You throw your phone and purse down on the desk and before slipping into the bathroom, sliding out of your clothes and stepping into the stream of water behind the glass door.

A few minutes later, Jungkook pokes his head through the door you left cracked to help vent the steam. “Noona your phone’s ringing.” He holds it out to see if you want to take it.

“Who is it?”

“Uhh... it’s Namjoon.”

Your stomach drops, “Let it go to voicemail... I’ll call him back later.” The thought of talking to him now, the day after his wedding, is unbearably painful. You stand still in the shower watching the water flow down the drain as you contemplate why he called. Maybe he just wanted to say hi, or to thank you for coming, as you didn’t get a chance to speak to him yesterday.

Jungkook calls out to you again possibly noticing your stillness behind the fogged glass, “I have somewhere in mind to take you if you still want to go out. I just have to stop by my shop first. Taehyung, my business partner, just sent me a message, he can’t remember if he turned the alarm on when he left the shop today and asked if I was nearby.”

You force a smile back at him, “Yeah, I’ll be out in a second.”

...

Jungkook suggests to walking to his shop since the final destination of the night is a favourite bar owned by a friend of his.

“It’s just right here,” He points to a small building just across the street, taking your hand before dashing across the road.

You smile at the small sign out front, ‘Nostalgia: Restoration and Repair’. “Cute name.”

Jungkook gives an embarrassed laugh, “Taehyung came up with it. It just seemed really fitting.” He unlocks the doors with a large ring of keys, and then looks back to you “Do you want to take a peek before I set the alarm?”

You nod curious of what you might find inside. It’s not really a store but more of a work space with painting backdrops, vent hoods, and a workbench littered with wires and soldering tools. Behind the bench are several outdated electronics old gaming systems and PCs, things that people wouldn’t normally use nowadays except for... well... out of nostalgia. “When you said a repair shop this was not what I expected. ”

“Yeah it’s a little different, we deal with things that you can’t buy anymore, items that hold sentimental value. Some people want them just repaired in working condition, while others hope to get them looking like new again.”

You pick up a brick-like gameboy from one of the tables, your fingers brush over the paint worn keys. Hundreds if not thousands of hours would have gone into this device to bring it to this state, it must have been well loved in it’s day.

“It’s not much,” he states nervously looking around the space, “We specialize in mostly electronics, but I’m hoping to branch out in some other areas too, things like metalwork and woodwork. I still have a lot to learn.”

You’ve seen places like that your own city, those which refurbish antique wagons and linen chests, but this is something new and different. This catered to a whole new generation. “It’s brilliant, it really is.”

Jungkook blushes with pride as he scratches the back of his head. “Thanks Noona, I’m glad you like it.”

...

The bar is only two streets over from his shop. The owner looks relieved as he spots Jungkook come in the door. “Thank god, I was going to call you and see if you still planned on coming tonight. Some drunken idiot knocked into our jukebox and it stopped dropping records.”

“Ah Jin I told you, you shouldn’t be using it as your main system unless you go completely electric with it.” Jungkook scoffs.

“I know but do you think you could take a look at it for me.” The barman spots you behind him, “Sorry I can see you’re with someone, but drinks on the house for you and your date if you can fix it.”

“Deal! I’m going to hold you to it.” Jungkook acts like he’s won big with this agreement.

Jin’s tone verges on exasperation, “Just fix it please.”

“Yeah, yeah, do you have a tool box?”

You take a booth right beside the broken music machine, kneeling on the cushion with your chest pressed to the back of the bench so you can watch as he works. Jungkook pulls away the backing of the player to take a look inside, muttering to himself while he looks over the interior.

“Electrics look fine nothing seems to have disconnected...” He works his way up the machine leaving no spot untouched. “Ah, here it is...”

“Did you find what’s wrong?”

“Yeah,” he reaches into the mechanical portion and tugs on a lever which falls back into place once he lets go. “Looks like the spring for the release dislodged itself... it should be around here... found it...” His nimble fingers latch it back into place. “That should do it.” He reattaches the back and selects a track with success. He glances over to Jin at the bar with a wide smile, who matches it although looks slightly nervous. “Right, I need to go wash up really quick,” He looks down at his hands covered in black grease, “What do you want to drink?”

“A beer sounds good.”

“That’s it, you sure? Jin’s buying, so no need to hold back.” Jungkook gives a wicked grin.

“Yeah I’m sure.”

He returns a few minutes later with your beer while he holds a whiskey for himself. His hands are raw from scrubbing and there’s still a hint of the black grease here and there. He drinks deeply from the cup clearly not caring for the taste but continuing with it nevertheless. You take a couple long drafts of your own drink but know it’s a futile endeavour to try and keep up.

“I’m surprised you went for something so strong considering you had a hard time with the liquor last night.”

“Honestly I can’t stand the stuff,” He laughs. “but it’s the most expensive drink he has and I’m not one to waste an opportunity.” Jungkook looks back with crooked smile to Jin who is found shaking his head. “My skills don’t come cheap.”

“I can see that, I’m almost afraid to ask for your professional opinion on a personal matter, I don’t think I can afford your answer.” You peel at the label of your bottle somewhat nervous, but still hoping to discuss something that’s been bothering you for a while now.

“I have been bought with flattery on occasion... just don’t tell Jin.” Jungkook raises a finger to his lips as he lets out a small snicker.

“May I ask you a question then oh talented one?” You can’t help but laugh as you stroke his ego.

“You may,” Jungkook’s voice sounds confident but you notice a slight blush to his face as he laughs along with you.

“How would you fix nostalgia for a whole town? Say someone only gets to return during the worst periods of their life and the whole view of their former home shifts? How can you save it and bring it back to what it was before.”

Jungkook pauses, the laughter vanishes from his expression as he takes in your question. “That’s a tall order. I don't think you can for something that big. I don’t go around fixing entire blocks, I work with the smaller items. You have to find those things that you still love about this place and hold them tight, bringing them with you when you go.”

You really wish that you hadn’t asked now, for the first thing that pops into your mind is of course Namjoon. “What if you’ve already let it go...”

“Your whole past isn’t linked to just one singularity, you’ll find something else. You don’t always know what you were missing until you find it again. The items that people bring to me have often been hidden away for years in a dark closet or dusty box. All it takes is a little attention to bring them back to their former glory... sometimes they become even better than before...” He stops again looking hesitant to continue but pushes through with his final words. “Namjoon hyung isn’t your only tie Noona... there are other things you can hold on to.”

There’s silence between you as Jungkook brings up his name, you resent how easily he’s able to guess that it was Namjoon in your thoughts.

“I’ll go get another round,” He offers giving you some space.

You excuse yourself to the washroom for a moment while Jungkook fetches the drinks. Checking your eyes in the mirror for any sight of streak to your mascara before returning.

He’s still waiting at the bar when you come back, so you proceed to the empty booth. There’s a loud cat call from one of the tables you pass. You look away trying to ignore who ever thought that would catch your attention. That is until he calls you out as a, “cold bitch.”

Jungkook must have heard the insult because seconds later he’s pulling the man forcefully out from the seat.

You immediately intercede, not wanting for Jungkook to get in trouble on your behalf. “Jungkook, put him down.” He continues to hold the man, and pushes him against the wall with a look of fury.

“Apologise,” Jungkook demands of the drunkard.

“Jungkook it’s not worth it.” You try to calm him down, but to no avail. Resorting to a more forceful method you grab the arc of his ear. A yelp of pain echoes through him but he releases the man. “We’re leaving.”

“Ow Noona!”

You let go once you reach the front step of the bar grabbing his hand this time to drag him back to the hotel. His other hand reaches up to rub his ear.

“What the hell do you think you were doing?” You question him.

“He insulted you!”

“That doesn’t mean you have to throw him against the wall... fuck Jungkook. I told you it wasn’t worth it, a provoked apology means nothing. What if he retaliated and injured you? What then?”

There’s only silence as Jungkook reflects on his actions.

“Do you usually pull shit like this?”

“No...” He mutters in defeat.

“Then why would you try and start a fight?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer instead looking down at his feet as you both walk back.

You anger breaks to empathy at the sight of his sad submission, and you give him a small smile. “It was nice to see how fast he shut up though,” you glance over at Jungkook who lifts his head and grins back at you. “Usually I would just end up leaving the bar if something like that happened.”

Your half way back to your hotel when Jungkook begins to speak again, “Do you ever get scared or lonely in your city?”

“Sometimes, but that doesn’t mean that I was never scared or lonely here. It’s kinda hard to compare the two on that level thought... there just... different. Personally I prefer the city.” You look up to the night sky, “I do miss things like this though. Do you remember when Namjoon tried to teach us the constellations?”

“And you kept making up your own to impress him?” Jungkook guffaws back.

“If I recall you got jealous when he said my koala constellation was adorable.”

“Because it was, and I didn't get to tell you first...” Jungkook confesses his blush even more prominent this time. “You see, you do have something good to remember. It’s memories like that which you need to focus on.”

“I don’t think it’ll be enough though... the lights of the city often hide the stars, so I can’t hold them as close as I’d like.”

“It’s a good thing then that they aren’t the only part of that memory.” Jungkook takes your arms and wraps them around him before stealing a kiss. “You can hold me close Noona.”

You can’t help but be confused for the lack of communication between you two if he felt this strongly about your past together, “Jungkook... I wasn't the one who let go, when I moved away. I sent messages to you but you never replied.”

He looks away in disappointment, “When you left, I didn’t know what to do. Namjoon was sad and I couldn’t help but be angry. For a long time I held on to that... but when I saw you again I realized that it was really because I missed you Noona.”

“Jungkook...”

“I know, it was stupid of me. But I see that now, I shouldn't have left you in the dark. I’m sorry it took so long to find you again.”

...

Your final visit with your family starts off well, your father stops by and it’s almost like things are back to the way they were before, before the wedding, before your parents split, before your move. But then the bubble bursts. You thought your mother would behave, that maybe on your last night she wouldn’t put you through another round of guilt. Questions of when you would return begin to overwhelm you.

You return to your hotel room in tears. When checking your phone your finger hovers over two more missed calls from Namjoon. If he was so adamant to reach you it wouldn’t be wrong to talk to him despite your feelings right? You phone changes screens with an incoming call from Jungkook, you answer but there’s a slight warble in your greeting which he notices in an instant.

“Noona... are you okay, what’s wrong?”

“Just nervous about my flight tomorrow,” among other things, you think keeping them to yourself, “Was there something you needed?”

“I wanted to see you again.”

“I think I might head to bed, I have to get up early.” You voice catches even more tipping him off to a greater problem.

“What happened Noona? Why are you really upset?”

“I-I’m sorry it’s just... my mom asked about you, she said that if I couldn’t comeback for her that I should come back to see you...” You have heard it all before, but when she spoke of Jungkook that tore into you more than anything else. He’s been nothing but kind and now you’ve dragged him into you family affairs. “I’m sorry I pulled you into this, I told her we aren’t dating so she shouldn’t trouble you with anything.”

“Noona that doesn’t bother me. I can tell your upset, please, just let me come see you.”

“Jungkook I’m not going to use you as a shoulder to cry on. It’s not fair to you.”

“Maybe I want you to use me...”

“You can’t be serious. You see how much happier Namjoon is with someone who can be here with him.”

“I’m not Namjoon hyung,” Jungkook raises his voice enough to startle you, “Noona... I don’t want what he has. I want you!”

“No you don’t... Jungkook... Jungkook!” The line goes dead as you try to talk him down leaving you shouting his name to a dial tone. “Fuck.” You know it’ll be harder to convince him than Namjoon that being together would not be the best for either of you, that he needs to prioritize himself over your feelings. You try calling him back but his phone goes straight to a busy tone.

Ten minutes later there’s a pounding fist at your hotel door. “Noona open up!” You move to the door slowly, resting your hand on the knob and your head against the panel debating if you should give in. The pounding stops after a minute with one last thunk, his next plea no louder than a whisper, “Noona please...”

The waver in his voice takes hold of you and throws all forms of self-preservation out the window. You open the door to find stunned and teary eyed Jungkook. Stepping closer to him your hands reach up to his face, thumbs brushing away the dampness on his cheeks, before he crashes straight into you with a fierce need. His lips ram against yours almost to the point of pain. His hands take your shoulders and push you out of the doorway, the door slams shut as you are thrust into a wall.

His mouth continues to feast on yours in hunger, his tongue sweeping in for a deeper taste. If you weren’t wedged between Jungkook and the wall you doubt you would be standing. Your legs start to give way and you slip down a little before he places his leg between yours. A moan escaping you as you come to rest on his thigh.

He presses his leg harder against you, dragging out your reaction. “Why didn’t you answer the door sooner Noona? Why did you make me wait?” he mutters against you.

“I didn’t want to hurt you...” You whisper back.

He tugs your sundress over your hips. His hand roaming down in search of answers regarding state of your arousal. “So you were holding back? If I were to touch you would you be already wet for me?”

You nod adamantly, hating yourself for how quickly you give in to your selfish needs. He relaxes his leg for a moment allowing his fingers to push aside the damp fabric and press inside. As they start to curl inside his leg ramming the back of his hand driving the tips of his digits even further sending a shock wave through you.

You collapse forward head against his shoulder with deep quaking breaths. The palm of his hand folds up pressing firmly against your clit. You can feel the warmth begin to spread through you, his fingers no doubt soaked pressing you to your limits. As he drives more you are forced on to your toes and with nowhere left to go you give in to the wash of tingling heat. All you can do is lay limp against him as he continues to cull your moans with his hands and collect them with his lips.

You gladly accept his arms as they encircle you, supporting your body as he moves you to the bed. He takes a moment to tug off his shirt. Throwing his pants and boxers to the floor before climbing on top. He holds the swell of this cock in his hand, pumping it slightly as his hangs over you. “God I want to fuck you. Do you enjoy this power you have over me?”

He gives you a crooked smile, “Should I make you beg? Should I show you what it feels like to wait?”

“Jungkook... please...”

He buries the head of his cock to your entrance and roughly snaps his hips. “No I have a better idea, I’ll fuck you without end, continuing even when you’re raw and filled. I want you weeping my name.”

His thrusts are slow but determined and impactful, shifting you on the bed each time. His hands take your wrists and pin them beside your head.

He drives himself deeper inside as you writhe beneath him. You cry out with each surge from his cock. He looks down at the sundress and bites his lip. He stops his thrusts and removes his hand to grab the hem, dragging it up and off you. You bra is next to go, barely surviving the forceful removal. Jungkook catches the curve of your breast in his hand his mouth latching on to the stiff peak, and toying at it with his teeth. You take his other hand and bring it to your mouth, you can taste a hint of your remaining arousal but you could care less considering what the sight is doing to him.

His thrusts return and he bites down hard. A squeal of surprise exits much to his pleasure, you release his hand only for him to drag it down your stomach and grip your waist.

His fingers appear so desperate to grasp your flesh, to handle you in any way he can. Never letting go but trailing from spot to spot in a teasing line. You are at your end every nerve you your body screaming to release. “Jungkook...” You whine with desperation.

“What’s wrong Noona? If you think I’m finished with you, you clearly weren’t listening before.”

Your vision clouds as you quake from the climax that hits, but he carries on with a smirk. “I don’t want to let go just yet.”

By the end you’re nearly in tears just as he promised, barely able to move. You lost count how many times you called his name, but on each occasion he would reward you with a harder thrust leading down an endless cycle. He leaves your marked chest with a kiss before turning you over and folding in behind you. You both lay there in the dark for a time, letting the quiet settle as you listen to his breathing.

“Noona,” His mumbles with hesitation, his voice void of all the confidence that he held a few minutes ago, “If I were to come see you in your city... would you still want me? Could we ever have more than this?”

“Jungkook...” You have to cut this off now, you have to lie for his own benefit. Your selfish honesty would only cause him to follow as he admitted before. “No... I don’t think that would be a good idea.” You fill your head with assurances that he’ll find someone better for him here, just like Namjoon did.

...

You step into the airport the next morning in a haze, sleep having escaped you after rejecting Jungkook in such a manner. He surprisingly stayed with you until the early morning before heading off. You in your cowardice you pretended to remain asleep as he bid farewell with a kiss to your cheek.

Your thrown off when you hear someone calling your name from behind you. Turning around to find Namjoon running towards you. “Wait!” He urges as he takes the last few strides which separate you. His heavy breathing accompanied by a smile of relief. “I’ve been trying to reach you...”

“Namjoon, why... shouldn’t you be...” You want to question him and chide him, but all you can give is an apology. “Listen I’m sorry...”

“No, I’m the one who needs to apologize.... I got a somewhat angry and condemning call from Jungkook last night. He told me you were upset, and why you didn’t return my calls. I’m so sorry if I had known...”

“No it’s okay, I’m glad you didn’t.” You can feel the tears brimming to the surface. You plead with yourself to keep it together, just a few more minutes and then you’ll be on the plane. You make a promise to yourself that you can cry all you want then, just not now.

Namjoon pulls you into a hug and whispers. “I wanted to invite you as a thank you, to thank you for being strong, and for allowing me to find the happiness I needed... by telling me to stay.”

You have no hope in hell maintaining your expression now, the dam bursts and your tears spill out. But for the first time it’s not Namjoon that you cry over... but the loss of a future with Jungkook, and the confirmation that you’re doing the right thing by telling him that you’re relationship can’t continue.

Namjoon reacts calmly as always, rubbing your back with his hand. “I’ll be here when you need it, I’ll still give you a shoulder to cry on when you need it. Okay? We’re still friends right?”

You nod lifting yourself away from him.

“I need to ask something of you though. It’s about Jungkook... He doesn’t want me to tell you this but I think you need to know and make your own decision. Do you remember how I wanted to ask you a favour?”

You nod in confusion.

“I need you to look after Jungkook...”

Your heart breaks even further, having Namjoon plead his case. “Namjoon, please don’t say that, he belongs here, for god's sake he has a successful business! I’m not going to drag him to another city, another country with me.”

“That’s just it. He didn’t want me to tell you this but he and his partner are almost certain to by a business out your way. There’s a seller who has a restoration shop for sale and is willing to train him in the areas he wants to expand in if he buys the business. He didn’t want to tell you because he wasn’t sure if he was going to put in the offer, he was scared to make that jump and leave to somewhere new. I told him he should talk to you about it at the wedding, to hear how much you love it there.”

You chest tightness at the prospect, and the fear over the impact of your lie. “When he called you did he say that he if he had decided?”

“No I’m still not sure if even he knows. He was supposed to leave quite soon after the wedding to make an offer. If he does decide to go I wanted to make sure that someone was there for him, to check up on him. He’s probably going to have a tough time adjusting so he might need someone to lean on every now and then.”

You give Namjoon a small smile back, Jungkook clearly hadn’t gone into details about what had happened in the past few days between you two. “If he goes, I’ll gladly be there for him.”

Once you leave to go through security you’re stuck with a dilemma. How much did you affect his choice? You don’t want him to make the decision based on you but at the same time you don’t want to leave him with a bad taste in his mouth regarding the possibility of a move. You would be there for him if he moved, you want to be close to him. But if his dreams fail, if he makes the wrong choice because of you, you could never live with yourself.

You take your seat by the window fastening your belt as tight as it will, before resting your hand in it’s usual in flight position, clutching the arm rest. In your other palm lies your phone, you have only a few short moments before you have to turn it off, and you are still hoping that it’ll make the choice for you. When he calls...

You answer it quickly, and Jungkook leads with a stern question “I need to know, did you lie to Namjoon or did you lie to me?”

You begin to stutter unprepared for his question, “I-I...”

“Do you want to cut all relationship ties even if I come to the city or do you want to see me? Did you just say yes because Namjoon asked it of you? I need to know Noona. You need to tell me what you want.”

All his cards are on the table all of his choices are there, you only need to lay out yours to make this right. “I’m sorry Jungkook, I’m so sorry I lied to you last night. I was just worried that you would follow without-”

“So you want to see me again?”

“Yes.”

“You’re okay if I go the the city alongside you?”

“Yes, I just wanted to make sure if it’s something that you want for yourself.”

“It is... I’ll see you soon Noona.”

“Wait no... don’t hang up on me again...” You plead but the line still goes dead.

You’re about to call him back when you spot Jungkook boarding the plane. His fluffy black hair and masked face peak over the line of people boarding. The phone drops from your hand as you look to him. You may not be able to see his mouth but you can tell from his eyes he’s smiling widely. He sees the empty seat next to you and double checks his ticket, before a man in a suit comes to claim the spot. Jungkook looks across the aisle to what must be his seat and instead taps the man on the shoulder.

“Would you mind switching seats with me,” He points to his own two feet away. “It’s just that’s my girlfriend and she’s terrified of flying.”

The man grumbles but makes the switch. Jungkook plops down in the seat next to you but before he can get a word out you smack his arm. “Ooow what was that for?”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Do you know how painful it was to let you go?”

“I was still deciding, besides I wasn’t sure what you wanted out of our relationship. If you only wanted to have a fling and to cut ties again after this weekend I wanted you to be free to do that. I didn’t want you to have to look after me, I told Namjoon not to ask you but he came here to see you off anyway, and I guess I’m glad he did. I overheard the two of you talking...”

“And what were you going to do if I said I didn’t want to see you just now.”

“I would have taken the next flight,” He smiles sheepishly. “I remembered how much you hated flying, I wanted to be there for you if you needed it.”

He lays his open hand in front of you, his eyes wide and expectant. A hint of a smile graces his lips as you release your grip from the rest. Your fingers graze across his palm before interlocking with his. “Hold on to me Noona,” He comforts you with a whisper before resting his head on your shoulder as the plane takes off.

...

-Three Months Later-

You wait at the airport checking the flight arrival information for the hundredth time. Making sure that his flight did in fact land when you finally see him amongst the crowd. There’s a heavy bag on Jungkook shoulders but even that can’t weight down the massive grin on his face. You run to greet him colliding with his chest and forcing him to take a step back with the impact. He coughs slightly from the hit to his lungs, but then hugs you back just as tight. “I definitely prefer the welcome here, Namjoon only shook my hand when I saw him.”

“So that’s everything, your visa cleared and your belongings shipped? No more loose ends to tie up?” After Jungkook’s offer was accepted it’s been months with him going back and forth for the transition. Helping Taehyung find an additional worker and supply training, plus the time spent packing up most of his life to move it out here. You’ve grown so accustomed to having him here that sending him off each time leaves a deep ache inside you.

“Yep, that’s everything.” He takes your hand and kisses your fingers with a smile, “No more letting go.”

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts reader insert #rm x reader #bts x reader #bts the shoulder on which you cry

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 4 years ago

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26. I Hate This Fandom, and I Hate All of You

I absolutely stole this line from an old friend in the Glee fandom, because it’s one that I think about EVERY TIME a fandom gets on my nerves, much the way that even this fandom does and in particular Simon stans. Idk what to tell y’all if y’all feel some type of way... be better people. ANYWHO! Shoutout to my friend for a quote that still means a lot to me 10 years later. Word Count: 4119

There was a lot of buzz surrounding the mini vacation for Simon’s birthday. Their families were together in Belize. Simon’s photos only reflected Simon either being with Grace and Hazel on the trip, or Grace. For the type to hyperfixate and go through everyone’s pages, they could find entire group photos and stuff on Mr. Laurent’s and Mrs. Monroe’s pages as Mr. Monroe didn’t have social media and Mrs. Laurent’s wasn’t sophisticated (inspirational quotes and recipes and DIYs that she was never going to actually try). Simon’s selected photos always looked like professional stills of the scenery, candids and capturing all the beauty possible, while Grace took hundreds of photos of everything from hijinks and mishaps to food to selfies, and they always just looked like somebody living her best life.

But, someone asked, “Are you in Belize with Grace Monroe?” on Simon’s photo of a pair two pairs of bare feet in the dirt - one an older person, dark brown skin, several scars from previous damages and new callouses, and a younger person’s lighter brown skin and cutesy temporary tattoos on the base of their feet.

“Grounding, also called earthing, is a therapeutic technique that involves doing activities that “ground” or electrically reconnect you to the earth. This practice relies on earthing science and grounding physics to explain how electrical charges from the earth can have positive effects on your body.” Simon had put as the caption. In the same photo set, you could see an image of his own feet in the dirt, and...

“These are Grace and Hazel Monroe’s feet, right???” When they flipped through the set, there was near the end of several pictures of the landscape and sky, silhouettes of two people in the sunset - remarkably shaped like Grace and Hazel dancing in the dirt.

“OMG OGM GOM MOG MG OOMG…”

“Simon and Grace are BACK ON y’all!”

“Grace is letting Simon post photos of her! You all know that she’s very secretive about Simon these days, and now they’re in Belize and he’s posting photos! We WON everybody!”

“GRACE???”

Grace’s comments were a little bit less like that. A little bit. She had almost forgotten how “Simon’s fans” could get. She had looked up one of those “foods to order when you’re in Belize” articles and gotten everything on the list, took a photo of the table top and captioned, “About to go IN!” And less than a few moments later, had SO MANY, “Are you with Simon/Simon is gonna eat most of that/Save some for Simon/What did Simon order/So jealous that you get to eat all of that! Save room for desert AKA Simon!” That was the point where she decided to go on a comments black out. There could be no more comments on whatever photos that she took for the rest of the trip. Simon left his open, though. It blew his mind that half a year ago, people were telling him that they were disappointed in him for hurting Grace and lying about it, or that they were disappointed in him for trusting Grace again after everything, and now SOME of those very same people were extremely excited just to see them having brunch together that they were already working on wedding date headcanons and pregnancy foreshadowing. This entertained him. Grace wasn’t as much of a fan and contacted Hazel’s social media rep to ensure that any comments or questions about Simon were promptly deleted from any of her pages. Sometimes, they did that too. That was less amusing to Simon. He really believed that kids should be left out of things like that.

Simon knew that he was the reason that they didn’t last, as friends or otherwise and he had come to terms with that, but he still wanted her to be able to forgive him someday, trust him again and let him be a part of her life. This wasn’t her intention with this trip, so he definitely couldn’t take it as a sign. She was enjoying Belize with her daughter and making the most of the fact that her parents had foolishly invited him along, thinking it could be beneficial in some way. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to enjoy his limited time with her to the fullest.

Plus, he and Hazel had made some small steps to acceptance on her tour of their memory lane. Surprisingly to him, Grace was very open with Hazel about her wrongs. She did tell her about how she fought and hunted down Simon’s bullies, how she stabbed one with a fork and kept it just to remind herself of that day. She told her things that Simon never would have wanted to ever let his kids know that he had done. Hazel just hugged her, told her that she understood her pain better now and that she was proud of her for being able to be a good and strong person now. She posted something about her mom being her hero and being so glad that she had somebody like her in her life. It was really cute.

Simon went to follow her on her social media and someone even noticed THAT. “Simon Laurent is now following Hazel Monroe on like everything!” They posted with screenshots of his name following each account and an eyeballs emoji. He… blocked the person. He didn’t block people very much, but where Hazel was concerned, he didn’t want any of his stuff to bleed over into her space. Grace wouldn’t like that and he didn’t like it, either.

He and Hazel had spoken about the charm bracelet. She had been chronicling the charms with their stories, and said something like, “I feel like I’m wearing a sacred relic on my wrist.”

“Speaking of…” Simon had said, and reached into his satchel. “I made you copies of something…”

He showed her some pages of what could ONLY be two Esmoroth books and she squealed, hugged them to herself and stuck them in her own tote. “Expect my notes on them, soon.” He gave her a salute. Grace watched them interact and she couldn’t remember many moments that he talked to kids - like she had seen him at work with them and even sometimes whenever she caught part of one of his scouts things, but seeing him and Hazel sort of bonding affected her. She was equal parts cautious and soft. Simon seemed genuine though, and that only became more noticeable during the trip.

He was doing stuff like making sure she was walking on the inside when they went down streets, reflexively shielding her in crowds, helping her over, up onto stuff whenever she looked like she might struggle - things that Grace would normally do/try to do but wait it out to see if Hazel could do it herself or ask her if she needed help. Simon jumped into action and it didn’t seem to bother Hazel, so Grace was able to watch her get babied a little bit. It was cute. She snapped several photos, just for herself, though.

They got back to the villa to see that Mrs. Monroe had arranged another dinner. “This woman, I swear,” Grace mumbled. Simon laughed a little.

Mrs. Monroe announced, “We had a spa day and I got the Laurents makeovers. The three of you get washed up and dressed. The photographer is already here and I don’t want him to catch you three looking like… This.” she circled her hands at them, then waved them off.

“What… should I wear?” Simon asked as they walked off.

“I’ve set your outfits out!” Mrs. Monroe called at his back, “All of you!”

“I really feel like I’m 15 again,” Grace said shaking her head. Simon let out a grunt of agreement.

Hazel wondered, “This is what 15 feels like???” Not her 15. Grace was NEVER gonna do this type of stuff to her. But, the occasional bossiness of GlamMother Monroe would be fine. ONLY on occasion.

They reconvened with the family on the patio, overlooking the water as they were relaxed enough to not be as uncomfortable as at the birthday dinner. Hazel and Simon were talking about how far along she had gotten in his book, which she had her copy of at the table and was going over notes so far (she was pleased with where it was going and she enjoyed the angst between the Future King and the Idol Princess, “A lot more than I would have before everything I learned about you and my mom,” Grace heard her say.

“Do you want more?” Grace heard an unfamiliar voice ask.

She turned to see Mrs. Laurent staring at her with gray eyes… Simon’s eyes. Ugh… This is where he got those? She forced a smile and shrugged, “Someday.”

The woman leaned closer to her and said, “It gets tougher whenever there’s another. You have a hard time juggling the same amount of love that you have in you between more bodies.”

“I don’t think I’ll have that problem, but I’m going to take everything that the professionals say into consideration whenever I begin to think about expanding the family.”

“Simon was really easy. You just give him a little block set or something to build and he would leave you alone for hours. His sister needed constant attention. She just couldn’t stand not being focused on. I could easily leave Simon alone for half a day whenever he was 6. Hope couldn’t be left for a couple of hours, even having someone there with her…”

“Leave her alone,” they heard Simon growl at his mother in a low voice. The woman frowned and sat back in her seat. “Are you okay, Grace?” Simon looked at Grace’s hands clutching the table. She looked at them too, and released her grip, then saw Hazel, looking at her concerned and looking at Mrs. Laurent suspiciously.

“Yeah. She was just talking about motherhood.”

“About how she was terrible at it?” Simon asked.

“Simon…” Grace started.

But Hazel interjected, “Not everybody has a mom like you, Grace.”

“My mom isn’t perfect…”

“I think she meant a mom who is like you,” Simon said. Hazel nodded. “Some of us got hit a lot and yelled at, called names…”

“Abandoned in a field for days…”Hazel added. “Not to say that GlamMother was better! Just… sometimes it’s harder to trust people again, depending on what they did and well… as a mommy, doing bad stuff to your kid makes it so hard to even be nice.”

Grace nodded and adjusted Hazel’s braids. She had braided her hair whenever they were on the plane, to pass the time on the long flight. “I understand. I’ve been hurt by somebody that I thought really loved me before…” Simon blinked and turned away. Hazel gave him a sympathetic glance. Grace added, “But, I’m really trying not to be angry with them forever, and I think maybe our moms might be able to inherit a little bit of the same kind of forgiveness that we would want from others.”

Hazel scoffed, “She is definitely talking to you, Simon. There’s no way I’m forgiving any time soon.”

Simon said, “Noted,” and stared into his cup. He sat for a while longer and then took his cup and left the table. Hazel lowered her eyes, avoiding looking at Grace.

Mrs. Laurent offered, “He’s always been really sensitive. I’ll go…”

“No,” Grace said. “You… stay.” She stood up, glanced at Mrs. Laurent, slid Hazel’s chair away from her a little, basically letting Hazel know not to engage with that woman (though Hazel seemed to be the only person that the woman was kind hearted to, probably reminded her of her daughter or something). Grace found Simon pacing and clenching his fists. She turned to leave. This was a private moment, but he glanced up, saw her and stopped moving. She winced and clasped her hands together, “I was coming to check on you.” He relaxed a little and sat down on the nearby stairs.

She leaned against the rail and explained, “I’m not saying that you have to forgive your mom if you want me to forgive you. That’s not what I meant to convey. I just mean… that I try to think about things from the other person’s shoes a lot more than I used to. I remember right before I snapped, I asked my mom if you really believed all of the things you said about me, or if you were just a really good liar. I still don’t really know for sure what the answer is and I don’t think you do, either. And, whenever we don’t even fully know ourselves, how can we possibly know what others are going through? For all I know, you’re in the most pain that has ever pained anyone. I couldn’t say. What I can say is that I won’t let your pain be an excuse to hurt me, and as long as you aren’t hurting me, I see no reason to punish you.” She sat next to him. “But, maybe you and your mom can’t be like that, and that’s valid. I was just throwing something out in the air. I probably should have thought it through.”

“It’s true though. The stuff I did is just as unforgivable as the stuff she did. How can I expect you to ever trust me again when I’m not willing to do the same with her?”

“I mean… you and me are different people. You and her are different people. Not everything is interchangeable.”

“Any time I’m near Hazel, you look like at any moment, you expect me to throw her into the ocean. It feels really bad, but I get it. So… I know that she MIGHT be hurting too. It’s just… so hard. And to think that this is the way that I make you feel when I’m around, trying to pretend that I’m normal… It’s the most painful part. What can I do though? I made it this way. I did things that can’t be undone. Even in trying to rectify it, that’s just… treating an injury. I’ll never be able to remove the scars.” He had tears falling down his face, which he wiped away before she could have the chance to feel bad. “And you’re the last person that I should be whining to about it, because you’re the victim in this story.”

“A survivor,” she corrected. “Who has chosen to try to understand. Let’s give each other a little more space. We went around town, living in the old days and that maybe threw us a bit out of reality’s orbit. You were fine before we hung out..” He opened his mouth to debate, but she caught herself and corrected, “Well, not fine, but better. And… you need to get increasingly better. Until you’re well.” She got up and he watched her go back out and collect Hazel. They turned in early that night. He went back out to talk to his mom…

The Laurents were awake early and the only ones in the kitchen with Hazel whenever Grace emerged from their quarters. Mr. Laurent had made pancakes and eggs, and Hazel was stuffing her face and reading. Simon was next to her, ready to protect her, if he had to, while his mother was nursing a cup of coffee with a full, cold plate in front of her. “Good morning!” Grace cheered and kissed Hazel on top of the head, then Simon, though she awkwardly cringed after she did. He blushed, but didn’t make a big deal out of it. Yeah, she requested space, but she was also always affectionate and they had been around each other a lot the past few days.

“Good morning,” Mr. Laurent said. “Plenty of pancakes and eggs!”

“I’m having breakfast with my parents, but thank you for the offer,” she said in a fake sweet voice. “Hazel, why don’t you go get ready for the day. We’re spending it with your grands.”

“Yes!!! They give the BEST day out presents!” Grace sat down, and Simon noticed that with the off the shoulders blouse she had on, he could see the tan marks on her now even darker brown skin. He… liked tan marks. And… her hair smelled really good. Her lips looked so moist… She squinted her eyes at him and he quickly turned away and grabbed his plate and Hazel’s to clear them from the table.

“What do you all have planned for the day?” She asked.

“I’m going to take Samantha to the beach,” Simon said.

“If you can find her. I told you to keep her in her crate,” Mrs. Laurent said.

“I let her out in my quarters, not in the entire villa. She’s somewhere in my space,” he said. They had been bickering. He told her that he was trying to forgive her, because forgiving her might mean being able to forgive himself for the things that he had done. She told him that even if she tried for the rest of her life, she couldn’t forgive him for what he did to Hope… So… They weren’t any closer to whatever it was Grace was at in her growth journey. “I might do something with my hair,” Simon said, shrugging his shoulders as he washed dishes and returning his attention to Grace’s question. “Since I have that patch on the side from getting kicked in the head, I sort of want to do something Viking looking or elvish… Maybe a braid and a side do.”

“That sounds hot,” Grace said. He blushed again. “There might be something in Hazel’s Celtic book! There were some hairstyles in there. She carries the thing around a lot. Every since we found out that she had it in her DNA, she’s sorta been obsessed with Celtic history and the fact that there’s hazel tree lore is her favorite coincidence in the world.” Simon smiled and put the clean dishes away.

“She’s a great kid. You’re doing great with her.”

“It’s really not that hard. I just love her a lot and always try to give her what’s best for her and trust her to let me know if she doesn’t agree with what’s best for her… which isn’t often, at all. I worry that she sometimes maybe has too much emotional maturity. Like, if I shouldn’t coddle her a little more…” She bit her lip. “Like… how can you even tell when it’s what’s best?”

“She is happy and healthy. I trust that you do what’s best.” He cut his eyes at his mother and dismissed himself just as Hazel returned. They high fived each other when they crossed paths and Grace got up so that they could leave. She’d meet her parents elsewhere later. She couldn’t just stay in there with the Laurents, no matter how nice they were maybe trying to be.

She and Simon did well enough keeping their space through the rest of the trip. By Monday morning, when they were all back home, Grace wondered if Hazel needed a day to recover, but she was SO READY to get to school and brag to her friends about how she had been given drafts of the next two books of Esmoroth and how she wouldn’t tell them what happened and they would be SO jealous and think she’s SO cool. “They might even think that I’m lying. That’s why I have photos of me and Simon, with both of the drafts. They’re gonna be extremely, extremely envious.”

Grace laughed, “Why do you want your friends to be envious?”

“Because, that’s how you know it’s the good stuff.” Hazel still had her braids in. They probably wouldn’t last as long as that style would in Grace’s head, but Grace estimated she still had a few weeks before they would have to take them down. Also, Grace noticed that after giving Simon the leaf in her hair whenever they went to get on their planes home… She hadn’t replaced it. She put in one of her leaf clips and almost left the door without Grace! Grace caught up with her and the girl was as lively as ever. Grace didn’t have that same enthusiasm.

The weekend was exhausting for her. Seeing her parents wore her out. Seeing them, the Laurents, and specifically Simon? She was about to sleep this entire day, until it was time to meet up with Hazel afterschool. Back in her own bed, with her own energy in her space, her own schedule and company (or lack thereof) it was great.

Simon had went live while he was working on styling his hair, to clear up all of the rumors about he and Grace rekindling their romance, which essentially boiled down to, “Grace and I are not together. We aren’t even friends again. The Monroes were nice enough to treat my family to a vacation for my birthday. I love, admire, adore, worship, would die for Grace, but I’ve done too much stuff for her to ever trust me again and I have to be okay with that, so all of you should be, too.”

Grace didn’t know until Hazel told her that Forgive Him Grace and Groveling for Grace were a thing. She watched the video and was amazed that they had taken his words and decided to do the complete opposite, because of course they did! She merely made a post, with no tags or links that said, “I hate this fandom, and I hate all of you.” Some were in the comments laughing, because they knew exactly what she was talking about. Some were asking her what fandom it was and offering words of kindness. Some were just flooding it with those stupid hashtags.

Simon messaged her to apologize and insist that he didn’t mean for THIS to happen. She turned it into a video call, which he immediately picked up.

“Your followers have always been a very… special kind. Unreasonable. Stubborn. Obsessively defensive, even when you absolutely don’t deserve it.” He looked embarrassed. “You trained them too well. Jeesh.”

“They’re literally a little cult on the internet,” he said.

“Yup. They better not be bothering my baby.”

“No. I shut that shit down the moment I see it. I actually pinned an exile list to the top of my pages specifically for that.”

She checked and saw “For troubling Hazel Monroe, you will be exiled and your name will go upon this wall of shame.” It was followed by a list of names of people he blocked and at the bottom, “Leave her alone or you won’t be welcome here.”

“This is kinda adorable,” she said. “I love how you are with her. It means a lot to me.”

“You mean a lot to me, so she does too,” he said. She bit her lip and blew air through her lips. He smiled. “I love that you still do that. I was counting the similarities and differences.”

“I’d love to hear what you came up with!” She said.

“Okay. Similarities: You still do that brrrr thing with your mouth when you’re thinking or uncomfortable. You still play with people’s hair as a show of affection. You playfully tugged on Hazel’s braids so many times! Your feet still bother you… though they seem to be giving you more trouble than before. You still try to play nice with people and speak sweetly… Differences: You’re more confident. Not that you were insecure before, but you used to care what people think about you and now, you just don’t. It’s really sexy.” She blushed. “You’re independent. You don’t need anybody else and you used to always want somebody around. Like, you love Hazel and keep her close, but I can tell that you also allow her freedom and don’t demand her obedience like your parents did to you. And you’re… everything. I can’t believe that I convinced myself that you were nothing. You’re everything, and I would do anything for you.” They both just stared at each other a while.

“Well… That’s a nice thought. I’ll think of you if I need anything.”

“Or if you want anything…. Anything at all, Grace. I swear.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you soon. Get your followers together!”

“I’m on it,” he said and rested his chin on his hands. She exited the conversation and took a deep breath. She didn’t know what he meant by any of that, but she had a feeling that it would be clear soon. Simon never made a declaration that he wasn’t going to come through about. Even “new” Simon.

#If They Didn't Get on the Train #AU Infinity Train #Infinity Train #Nesha Fanfiction #Infinity Train Fanfiction #fics

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jade4813 · 4 years ago

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Like Moths to a Flame, Chapter 8

Fandom: North and South

Title: Like Moths to a Flame

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: John/Margaret

Synopsis: “I hope you realize that any foolish passion for you on my part is entirely over.“ Margaret decides to confront John about his unjust judgment of her character, but the two have always been drawn to each other, and things quickly get out of hand. In the aftermath, she agrees to marry him to satisfy propriety, but she cannot forget how ready he was to believe the worst of her. Can love survive without trust, or will the two find a way to work through the misunderstandings that have plagued their relationship from the start?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

As John put her back on her feet, Margaret told herself that she should release him from her grasp, but her hands seemed unwilling to comply. He seemed no more inclined to move away than she, his breath warm against her cheek as he gazed into her eyes. She longed for him but lacked the words to say as much. Nor did she quite know how to continue, her mother never having had the opportunity to guide her on such matters prior to her death.

Of course, she wasn’t totally ignorant of what was to happen. She had already given in to physical passion once – it was the entire reason she was now married, after all. But she wasn’t entirely certain how these matters were supposed to proceed as a matter of course. She assumed he would come to her tonight, but would he assume the same? Did he depend upon her to issue an oblique invitation?

Whether he felt as anxious and uncertain as she, or whether his thoughts were occupied on other matters, he asked, “Were you sorry to have to leave the dancing so soon?” With the millworkers expected to return to work in the morning, the celebrations had not gone as long into the evening as they had at Edith’s nuptials, but Margaret had been gratified that her new husband had stood up with her for more than one number. His dancing had perhaps lacked a certain amount of polish, marked by the occasional slight hesitation that suggested he was out of practice – but he had acquitted himself well enough for her mind.

“I’m not much for dancing,” she confessed. She enjoyed the occupation upon occasion, but she wouldn’t go so far as to call herself accomplished at the activity.

“I thought Southerners liked nothing better than to spend their days in idleness and their evenings in dancing,” he teased.

“For shame, Mr Thornton!” she cried in mock indignation, her tone too light to either cause or fear offense. “It hasn’t even been a day, and you’re already marking your new bride’s failings? It’s not the way of a gentleman, you know.”

His hands began to stroke the length of her back, his touch releasing tension in muscles she hadn’t realized she had tensed. His voice caressed her, encouraging her to melt in his embrace, as he replied softly, “I may not be a gentleman, but if you have any failings, I can’t see them. Forgive me?”

Although she was distracted by his touch, there was one matter that had preyed upon her mind throughout the day. Pulling away slightly, she looked up at him in concern. “You’re forgiven, provided you’ll forgive me in return for the day’s distractions. You’ve been working so hard at the mill—”

“A day’s loss won’t make much of a difference,” he reassured her.

They had been standing in the entryway, lost in each other’s eyes for far too long, even for newlyweds. Particularly since theirs was not a love match. The servants would talk – Margaret was well aware of the predilection for gossip in Milton – and her behavior would only reinforce their conviction that she had long conspired to trap the most eligible Master of Marlborough Mills into marriage. “It’s been a long day. Is there somewhere I could freshen up?”

John looked at her in consternation. “Yes, of course. I’ll show you to your room. I wasn’t sure if you’d prefer to – well, I didn’t want to assume.” Taking her hand, he escorted her upstairs. Halting outside a closed door, he displayed a slight degree of uncharacteristic sheepishness as he explained, “Jane set up your room earlier today. I hope it’s to your liking.”

Striving to hide her surprise, she pushed open the door and peered in at the furnishings, though she didn’t enter. “It’s lovely,” she acknowledged. Was there a genteel way to inquire as to the location of his room? It wasn’t a question she’d ever had to consider before.

As she pondered her predicament, she felt herself drawn to him and stepped back into his embrace. Their mouths met, and Margaret closed her eyes. Her heart started to race, as she wondered once again if she was expected to invite him to join her in her bed that evening, and if he would think less of her for being so forward if she did. Then again, she had been unthinkably forward in her father’s house, and he had still married her, so perhaps he didn’t find her unseemly for her boldness.

“And your room?” she asked, striving to hide her embarrassment at the implication.

“Next door.” He hesitated. Surely in time, they would grow more comfortable with each other, and these encounters would lose this initial awkwardness.

He was offering her an opportunity for her own private sanctuary, and she appreciated his thoughtfulness and care. She was even tempted to accept his offer, though she feared that impulse did her little credit. She was a bride, now. His bride. A lifetime of sermons had instilled within her an awareness of her wifely duty, even if it had failed to address some of the more pertinent logistics. But it was the longing in her own body and heart rather than any spiritual, legal, or moral decree that compelled her to move past him and enter his room.

She was unsurprised to note that it was a very masculine bedchamber, the furnishings large and imposing, but it was not without its charm. Clutching her hands before her, she made a show of gazing about her with an appreciative smile. “It’s perfect. Just needs a woman’s touch. I can have my things moved in tomorrow.” Then, afraid she might have overstepped, she added with a bashful smile, “Unless…do you mind? If you’d prefer your privacy—”

She was afraid of seeming too forward, but they were married now. Was it even possible to be too forward with one’s husband? Alternatively, was his decision to set them up in separate rooms due as much to his own inclination as his assumption of her preference?

He shook his head, brushing the back of his fingers along the curve of her cheek. “You’re my wife, Margaret. Everything I have is yours. Everything I am is yours.”

She had intended to return to the room he’d prepared for her, to ready herself for her first night as his wife. But when she felt the first brush of his lips upon hers, her resolve to leave him fled, and she melted into his arms. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her to a nearby chair, pulling her into his lap. His kisses were slow and unhurried, and he caressed her back, soothing her with his touch.

It seemed to John that holding Margaret had to be the closest he would ever come to touching Heaven. How long had it been since she had left that first, indelible imprint upon his heart? He could swear it beat now only for her – a fanciful thought, but wasn’t a man entitled to a bit of whimsy on his wedding day?

He longed to carry her into his bed, to do as he should have done that day in her father’s sitting room. To linger where he had once hurried, to request what he had once demanded and she had freely given in return. But when he kissed her, he could taste her fear, her anxiety, and that wasn’t what he wished for her on their first night as man and wife – or any evening after.

But if John was anything, it was patient, and if there was anything that was worth waiting for throughout his entire existence, it was this. He kissed her until she became liquid in his arms, her breaths warm and ragged in his ear. Then he lifted one hand, stroking her through her gown.

She stiffened at this contact, but he kept his touch soft, undemanding, until she relaxed into him once more. Only then did he pull away, resting his forehead upon hers. “Are you afraid?” he whispered softly.

“Not anymore,” she responded in kind.

Though he shook with the urge to touch her, he helped her to her feet. Then he rose and reached for her, helping remove her dress and corset with much more care and a good deal less grace than he usually employed. She laughed when he attempted to assist her in letting down her hair, their hands tangling as they sought out errant pins until her hair cascaded down her back. Her sigh of pleasure became a soft moan when he ran his fingers through it, marveling at its texture, and laughed again – this time, with nervous shyness – when he placed her on the bed to assist with the removal of her stockings. As willing and pliable as she’d been, however, she balked when he reached for her chemise.

He was moving too fast, and he drew back, ready to wait until she was ready for him, but she reached for his hand, pulling her back to her. “May I see you?”

He was more than willing to comply, quickly shedding his clothes until he was stripped to the waist. Upon consideration, he left his trousers untouched. Although his bride seemed eager, he reminded himself that she had been an innocent, before he had touched her. It wouldn’t do to scare her now.

Returning to the bed, he stretched out beside her, forcing himself to remain still as she reached for him. Her touch was cautious, exploratory, but she couldn’t have more effectively teased him if doing so had been her intent. He closed his eyes and willed himself to relax, to regulate his breathing, as her hands swept along his chest. She seemed entranced by the play of muscle and bone, her fingertips tracing the lines of his ribcage and muscles of his stomach, which quivered under her caress.

When he opened his eyes once more, he was gratified to see his own desire reflected in her face, and this time, she didn’t pull away when he reached for her. Lifting her into his lap, he was drawn to her warmth, bowing his head to moisten her breast through the thin fabric of her chemise. She shuddered in his arms, and he swept his hands beneath the hem of the flimsy undergarment, stroking her soft thighs.

His own breathing was ragged as he grabbed the bottom of her chemise, but he waited until she met his eyes and nodded slightly, a silent acquiescence to his unspoken request. In one smooth motion, he lifted the garment over her head and tossed it aside, leaning her back until she lay upon the pillows. Then, resting his weight on one arm, he drew back to look at her.

Margaret, so bold in her passion, grew shy under the weight of his regard. A blush stained her chest, rising up her neck to color her cheeks, and she pulled her arms across her breasts to hide herself from his view.

“It’s all right,” he reassured her, placing one hand over hers. He waited until she relaxed once more beneath him to slowly draw her hand aside. This time, she allowed him to reveal her body without protest, though he could still see her uncertainty in her eyes. Resting one hand upon her stomach, he trailed his fingertips slowly along her smooth skin, marveling at its softness. A faint cluster of freckles dotted the skin between her breasts, and he found himself both entranced and enchanted by this unexpected slight imperfection.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed in rapt wonder, wincing at the sound of his own voice as it broke the silence that had fallen between them. Everything about him was harsher and harder than she, including the edges of his thick Northern accent. By rights, he should never have been allowed to touch, let alone tarnish, someone as lovely as she, and he blessed whatever fortuitous star had shone upon him, to bring her into his life. “I’ve never seen such beauty.”

“John,” she whispered in return, her voice sweeping along her skin and twisting something beneath his breast. It hadn’t been lost upon him that she’d largely avoided calling him by his given name since their reckless coupling in her father’s house. Even earlier in the evening, when she had gently teased him, she had referred to him as ‘Mr Thornton.’ He hadn’t protested, fully understanding that she would require time to grow used to their (and undoubtedly unwanted, on her part) altered circumstances.

He treasured the sound of his name upon her lips and committed each instance to memory, well aware that she had only spoken it thrice since that fateful day – once, in response to his proposal; once, when she had requested a boon of him as a wedding present; and once, when she had pledged herself to him ‘til death they do part.

Even his well-honed capacity for self-denial had its breaking point, and he didn’t know how much longer it would last. Rising off the bed, he extinguished the lamps before quickly removing the remainder of his clothing. John was a proud man – and he believed he had every right to be – so it wasn’t shame that prompted him to undress in the dark. Rather, it was in consideration for his new wife’s feelings. She’d felt shy in her own nakedness; he didn’t wish to overwhelm her by a confrontation with his own.

Stripped bare, John climbed back into bed, pulling Margaret with him under the blankets, and he began to caress her body with greater intent and purpose. Lovemaking was an act which seemed more accommodating to a man’s desires, but he was determined to deny her no pleasure it was in his capacity to give. With his hands and his mouth, he explored her body, reveling in every sigh, every gasp, every moan until she was quivering in his arms.

With her back pressed against him, he thrust two fingers inside her, pressing his palm against her as he simulated with his hand what he longed to do with his body. She cried out, her head falling back against his shoulder, and his body responded, his hips bucking fruitlessly toward hers, but he didn’t give in to his own need until he felt her grow rigid in his arms, the cords in her neck stiffening as she became undone in his arms. Only then did he allow himself to move over her, bracing his weight on his arms as he knelt between her legs and entered her with an exultant cry of his own.

John wasn’t a “proper gentleman” like the men Margaret would have known in London, or even in her beloved Helstone. In truth, he had never wished to be such a man, but for her. He’d always believed a man’s worth lay in his actions, in his honor and his industry, rather than in the size of his purse. He knew the value of hard work and appreciated the satisfaction that came from a job well done. A life of idleness would suit him ill.

But he knew Margaret had always longed to marry such a gentleman. Moreover, a man such as that was what she deserved, sweet and gentle lady that she was. Had circumstance not forced her hand, she never would have chosen a man such as he, and though it was not in his inclination, he would try to be a proper gentleman for her.

How would a such a gentleman act, in an occasion such as this? He would treat her with courtesy and care. Gritting his teeth, John closed his eyes and tried to be so with her, his thrusts soft, slow, and gentle, but Margaret was both impatient and a quick study, and she had learned from their previous experience together. When he would have treated her with cautious gentility, she responded with imprudence, wrapping her legs around his hips and drawing him into her.

It was an unlikely reversal of roles. When John thought he should ask, she demanded. When he would have attempted to exercise care, she threw caution to the wind. The threads of his self-control frayed and he succumbed to his passion for her, thrusting into her hard and deep until he felt his own release wash over him. Then, for fear of how they would betray him and his innermost feelings, he pressed his lips upon hers and allowed her kiss to forestall the ill-conceived confession of love that struggled to break free.

Later, as Margaret slept beside him, her body curled into his and her head resting upon his chest, he ran his fingers through the silken strands of hair that tickled his cheek with every breath. Though his body was sated, his mind was ill-at-ease, fixated upon a conundrum at the expense of his rest.

Although he had fully enjoyed their lovemaking, he could no longer ignore the signs of her innocence and unfamiliarity with the act. Her modesty and inexperience felt too genuine to have been feigned, and while he treasured their first kisses, he could vividly recall her initial awkwardness that spoke of a lack of practice. But how could that be, if Margaret had enjoyed the attentions of another lover? She’d sworn her innocence and his misunderstanding of the embrace she’d exchanged with the stranger on the train platform. Had she been telling the truth?

He also had to acknowledge an inability to reconcile the conflict within his own mind regarding his perception of her. In his jealousy and heartbreak, he’d believed her to be capable of bestowing her charms upon another, but his heart and mind were almost cruel in their conviction that he could never aspire to deserve a woman such as her, that she was too far above the likes of him. So which was it? The lightskirt or the lady? The wanton or the innocent?

Everything within him (save, perhaps, for his wounded pride) believed her incapable of the charges he’d once laid upon her doorstep. He wouldn’t have loved her before – he wouldn’t love her still – if he truly believed in her disreputability and shame. With his life’s breath, he would vow that she’d do nothing to dishonor him or their marriage. How could he hold so deep a conviction if he truly had no faith in her or her character?

And yet he couldn’t pretend that his accusations had been without either cause or merit. He’d seen her on that train platform, embracing another man. She’d sworn the embrace was innocent, but how could it be? He wasn’t her father, who might be entitled to claim such evidence of attachment, and she had no brother – at least, none that either she or her father had ever claimed. Why would they keep such a man secret if he were to exist? It didn’t make sense that they would do so, but that left the question of who could he have been, that such an embrace could have been apparent and yet blameless?

Furthermore, if she was innocent of the implication of such improper conduct, why wouldn’t she confess the truth of the situation to clear her reputation of any untoward and unjust accusation? And why in heaven’s name had she agreed to marry him? He might be willing to fool himself into believing that her passion for him had been too great to ignore, but not even for the sake of his own broken heart could he ever deceive himself that she had developed a genuine attachment for him.

“I do not love you. I never have. I never will.” No, there was no attachment there, not on her part, at any rate. Not even in his most desperate and fanciful imaginings could he delude himself into believing her feelings for him had changed over the course of their engagement.

Had she married him in the hopes he could provide for her a secure future? If so, he could hardly blame her for it, though the situation at the mill was too precarious for him to have unwavering confidence in his ability to do so at present. He had warned her as much, and while it was true that she’d kindly rejected his offer to cry off the engagement, she didn’t have to care for him to have faith in his business acumen. She might have been willing to gamble her future on the belief that they wouldn’t suffer under financial constraints for long. Perhaps she’d decided he was worth the risk, particularly given the comparative dearth of other suitable prospects in Milton.

That she’d married him to secure her future was the only possible conclusion his mind could reach, and yet it rested poorly in his heart. And so, while Margaret slumbered in contented peace, John wrestled with the confusion and doubt that continued to plague him until the faint light of dawn spilled through his bedroom window and he finally, mercifully, followed her into a dreamless sleep.

#like moths to a flame #john thornton #margaret hale #fanfiction #my fanfiction #north and south #john x margaret

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