#And a fancy ensemble complete with a bow tie to match the bow hair tie!

[vargaslovinghours]

Bow Jake, Fancy Jake

[spiralhigh]

ranking the sdr2 cast by how much their formal wear hits

this is just my opinion, but my opinions are great and i know what i’m talking about! this will be long so it’s under a cut

S TIER:

s tier is reserved for only the best of them all, the cream of the crop, the fit that i would gladly lay down my life for. s tier is the crown jewel. s tier is what everyone else should strive to be... but only one can take the prize.

#1: AKANE OWARI

the undisputed champion. this look is everything to me. EVERYTHING. the red-trim cape with the fur. the contrast of the airy, gathered blouse with those skin-tight shiny (leather? vinyl??) pants. the pumps. the belt that screams disco style. the necklace accentuating the tasteful titty window. the red white and gold color scheme  are you FUCKING WITH ME miss owari this look could bring ARMIES to their KNEES in an INSTANT. whoever drew this deserves full creative control of the danganronpa franchise and i’m not kidding

A TIER:

a tier is for the fits that frankly own bones. they’re not as jaw-dropping and legendary as owari, but they’re still razor as hell and deserve to be met with riotous applause.

#2: KAZUICHI SOUDA

kazuichi, i didn’t know you had it in you, but this FUCKS. the character of the pins on the lapels, the sneakers, and the mispinned tie. the absolute CLASS of the suspenders, watch, and tiny round glasses. the handsome slick in the hair now that the greasy beanie is gone. the tasteful highwater. he looks like the host of the larry king show if the larry king show was exclusively about ska bands and he has never looked better

#3: HIYOKO SAIONJI

tell me this isn’t the cutest shit. the colors here are EXQUISITE. the bright notes from the blue on top, the way the soft pink is a perfect middle ground of the pink + white flowers on her sleeves, the subtle way the green in her bow matches the green in her collar, the white petals breaking up the sky blue that might otherwise look out of place? remarkable. stunning.

#4: PEKO PEKOYAMA

the ELEGANCE is EVERYTHING here. the monochrome is offset by just a splash of red that ties everything together with her eyes and the flower in her hair, the checkerboard pattern is visually interesting but not distracting, and her hair in that loose ponytail with the little white ribbon? ugh. ADORABLE! but most of all, look at those BOOTS. those CUTE LITTLE HEELS on those SICK LACE-UP BOOTS..... QUEEN shit!!!

#5: CHIAKI NANAMI

rounding out our a tier is chiaki in this adorable little dress just LOOK at her!!! she looks like a little rose, a perfect flouncy skirt with a glittery mesh overlay, a fun and fresh over-the-shoulder collar, a fucking big old bow tied in the back?? i can literally feel the way this dress would feel in my hands. it’s simple and perfect and frankly a GORGEOUS color on her this is flawless

B TIER:

b tier is a perfectly respectable place to be. these fits lack the lustre and flavor of the a tier entries, but they’re still dressed to impress and they still look fine as hell.

#6: TERUTERU HANAMURA

say what you will about teruteru (and i do) but this suit is ADORABLE and it fits in with his theme + talent better than any other mfer on this list. the tasteful white/brown/red palette gives it a flashy chocolate cookie look, which is amplified in the fun pattern on the jacket. the chef’s hat switching out for a little top hat and the way the cumberbund looks a lil bit like a chocolate bar is also VERY cute

#7: THE IMPOSTOR

now on its own, the suit is just alright. a vibrant pinstripe blue three-piece with the classic red tie wouldn’t land the impostor in b tier on its own... but that FUR COAT, LUXURIOUSLY DRAPED OVER THE SHOULDERS does WONDERS to pull this look together. not only is it worn with “yeah, it’s real mink, no, you can’t touch it” confidence, but it also ties the otherwise arbitrary white loafers into the structure of the look. it’s subtle and class as hell.

C TIER

c tier is full of looks that are... fine, but ultimately either are boring, lack cohesion, or have a confusing design choice or two that make it hard to get all that amped about. c tier is a passing grade, but nothing more.

#8: NAGITO KOMAEDA

there’s a lot that’s good about this outfit, but there’s also a lot that doesn’t really work. let’s start with the good: the slutty loose bowtie and collar, the tight-fitting vest that ends before the hipbones so you can see the belt, the cute little ponytail? (chefs kiss) exquisite, all of it. but the suit itself is boring as sing, and who the hell decided to put the t-shirt symbol on the sleeves??? was it to add visual flavor to an otherwise bland suit? this does NOT have the black/white/red elegance that peko had.

#9: FUYUHIKO KUZURYUU

the silver and gold mob-boss look, complete with matching shoes vest and fedora, are a nice nod to fuyuhiko’s talent! the plaid is teetering on the edge between fun and garish to me, but the fact that it’s consistent and the only pattern means it isn’t too offensive. quick question though: why are his pant legs rolled up like that?? this isn’t a cute “cuffed at the ankle” look, dude looks like he had to wade across a pond to get to the venue. what gives

#10: GUNDAM TANAKA

out of everyone here, gundam’s suit might be the most boring of all. the scarf is just his normal scarf. the red tie and trim don’t do anything to tie the look together. the only mild point of interest is the asymmetrical vest, and i can’t even tell if that’s intentional. simply put, this “““fancy”““ outfit isn’t even in the same ZIP CODE as the level of ostentatious chuuni that gundam serves us every single day in his casual wear. maybe even worse than being ugly... it’s disappointing.

#11: IBUKI MIODA

now, look. is this dress buckwild and ugly as hell? yes. but you know what else it is? it is IBUKI MIODA’S DRESS. there might not be a single cohesive thing about this dress aside from its color scheme. the huge poofy ruffles of the skirt and arm things with the spiked bow and corset are baffling. the artist somehow managed to draw the awkward, clumping shape of the skirt to make it look exactly like an emergency cosplay sewn four hours before a convention. frankly, i can’t justify ranking it as a c! but i’m doing it anyway, because the sheer level of craftsmanship demands it, and in this house we respect diy queens that are totally off the shits.

D TIER:

d tier is for outfits that aren’t offensive, exactly... but like, they sure don’t look good! d tier is not a respectable place to be. those in d tier won’t be laughed out of the ceremony in shame, but they should really run their outfit by someone else first next time.

#12: NEKOMARU NIDAI

now don’t get me wrong: i have nothing but respect for the titties-out look. keeping the shirt unbuttoned all the way down to where the lapels of the jacket end? that’s sexy as hell. however, this flawless idea has a confusing execution. why emerald green and orange? what’s with the... long-sleeved printed (hawaiian?) shirt? why the red pocket square? and the jacket itself, while fitted perfectly along the chest and midsection, has a weird, unflattering scallop shape flaring out at the bottom. i want to like this fit, but there are just too many bad choices.

#13: HAJIME HINATA

oh, hajime... literally nothing about this ensemble is it. the creamy manila suit might have had potential if there were literally any color variation in the vest (or potentially shoes) to give it a little more shape, or even if you just went with a white shirt underneath it! i could get behind a light, off-monochrome look! but that leprechaun-green shirt is downright perplexing to me. it looks like a mistake! did you get dressed in the dark? did you spill something on your other shirt? this is a mess.

F TIER:

f tier is inexcusable. f tier should never have happened. how does it get this bad. who did this? who’s responsible for this?

#14: SONIA NEVERMIND

y’know, the colors are pretty! i dig the white and teal! but... girl... what the fuck is this construction. the ruffles are all over the place. the bodice looks like it has less fabric than space it needs to cover. the bottom half of the skirt looks like it was sewn on as an afterthought because the top half was too short for dress code. what’s with the weird choker collar detached from everything else. why is the hairband a slightly different shade of green. so many decisions were made here and none of them are flattering

#15: MAHIRU KOIZUMI

yknow, i like the idea behind this. i can see what you were going for! the dress on its own might have worked, even! but everything else about it is just... so ugly. what the fuck is happening with those shoes??? the sheer black tights aren’t the sexy OL look you think they are. the collar of the dress looks like it’s... braided for some reason??? those earrings are so huge for no payoff, statement jewelry with nothing to say, and worst of all... that headband. GIRL. that headband and that belt...... there’s nothing here. also i love orange but it’s not her color.

and finally... the worst.

#16: MIKAN TSUMIKI

what the fuck. what the fuck is this. this is straight up cheap rubber fetish gear. why is the HAT rubber? that skirt ruffle makes this look like fucking polly pocket clothes. why the fuck is she wearing that. the clothes are so bad that it makes her hair look like rubber too. was she dared to wear this? is this some cruel punishment? i don’t even know what to say. this is the worst possible outfit. there is not even one redeeming quality about it.

[dontmindthefangirling]

Broken Nose {t.h.}

part 9

Summary: You’ve just gotten a new job as an on-set medic for Spider-Man: Far From Home to be on stand by for any injuries that may occur during stunts. When the star of the movie, Tom Holland, breaks his nose from a particularly bad fall, you fix his broken nose but can he fix your broken heart?

Warnings: fluff, swearing, bullying, angst, name-calling, violence, something y’all are going to hate me for 

part 8 | series masterlist

-

“Wow,” James whistled as you stepped out of your bedroom. The red dress you were wearing hugged your body in all the right places, tight around your waist and loose around your legs, stopping just above your knees. You let your hair down, loosely curled and your lipstick matched the red of the dress. 

“Too much?” you asked nervously, twirling slightly. 

“No way. You look stunning,” James said with a smile. 

“A genuine compliment? I’m shocked,” you chuckled grabbing your purse that laid on the counter. 

“I can be nice when I want,” James said with a shrug. 

“You look pretty dashing yourself,” you smirked. James looked down at his ensemble doing a twirl for dramatic effect and earning a laugh from you. He was wearing a gray suit with a navy blue tie and he had gelled his hair back. 

“Thank you thank you,” James said, bowing. You rolled your eyes. 

Filming had ended a few days ago and the wrap party was tonight at some country club outside of the city. You didn’t think that you and James would be invited but Mike said everyone who was involved in the process was invited. You were excited to go, and you were excited to see Tom. 

It had only been three days since filming ended, but you missed him already. Texts and calls weren’t the same as being wrapped in his arms that you missed so much. You still hadn’t put a label on whatever this thing was, but you didn’t mind and you didn’t think Tom did either. You were happy with where you were at and you put all thoughts of Tom going back to London or going away for press tours to the back of your mind. 

“Jacob said we’re more than welcome to drive in to the party with him and Harrison,” James said looking down at his phone.

“Tell him thanks but...um Tom’s picking me up,” you said sheepishly. It had been two weeks since James found out that you two were somewhat seeing each other? You didn’t know what to call it. But he still loved to tease you about it. 

Much to your surprise, James didn’t falter at your words. He looked up from his phone and smiled genuinely at you. 

“Alright, well I’m going to head over to Jacob’s hotel. We’re driving in in one of their fancy SUVs,” James chuckled. He grabbed his keys that were behind you on the counter before pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“I’ll see you soon,” James said walking towards the door. 

“See you soon,” you waved. 

“Tell him to have you home by ten!” James called over his shoulder. 

You laughed. “You’re going to be there too, dumbass!” 

“Ten, (Y/N)!” James called, the door shutting behind him, leaving you alone in your apartment. You shook your head smiling while glancing down at your phone. You were a little nervous that Tom was coming to your apartment to pick you up, but at the same time the butterflies in your stomach wouldn’t stop fluttering around. 

Only ten minutes after James left, there was a knock at your door. You got up and looked through the peephole, smiling when you saw Tom on the other side. You swung the door open, reveling Tom in a navy blue suit, holding a bouquet of roses in his hand. 

“Hi love,” he said with a grin. “Wow, you look...you look so beautiful.”

You blushed and smiled before you pulled him into a tight hug. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Tom chuckled, pulling away slightly so he could press a quick kiss to your lips.

“Are those for me?” you asked, blushing as red as your dress and the roses when he smiled.

“No they’re for James,” Tom teased. You laughed and rolled your eyes as Tom handed them to you. You held them up to your nose and smiled before walking towards your kitchen to grab a vase to put them in. 

“They’re beautiful,” you said as Tom followed you in, shutting the door behind him. 

“Just like you,” Tom grinned. 

“Did you plan that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Maybe.”

You blushed and smiled, grabbing your purse and putting it over your shoulder. You walked towards Tom and pressed a kiss to his lips. He smiled into it, putting his hand on your waist and pulling you closer to him. Your mind began to wander, wondering if you could maybe blow off the party and stay here...

But you knew it was important that Tom was there. He was the star after all. 

“Ready to go?” Tom asked when you pulled away. 

You nodded and you left your apartment, quickly sneaking into the car that was waiting out front, avoiding any paps that could have followed Tom. You were both laugh as you fell into the car, shutting the doors behind you. 

“It’s fun being sneaky,” Tom said as the driver pulled away from the curb. 

“It’s fun being sneaky with you,” you added. Tom pressed a kiss to your temple and intertwined your fingers.

“Yeah it is.”

-

The car pulled up to the fancy country club where the wrap party was being held and you looked up at the old building in awe. It looked like it could resemble an old but small castle that overlooked the Atlantic. The NYC skyline was in the distance, the different lights illuminating the night sky. You saw familiar faces heading up the stairs into the building, every person dressed to perfection. 

And you suddenly became nervous. 

Tom jumped out of the car first, going around to your side and opening the door for you. He had a big grin on his face and you could hear the music blaring from inside the building, but you couldn’t move. 

“What’s wrong?” Tom asked, furrowing his eyebrows instantly and noticing that something was wrong. 

“I’m just nervous,” you said as you gingerly took Tom’s hand and stepped down from the car, shutting the door behind you. 

“Hey, don’t be,” Tom assured you. “You know all of these people. You worked with them every day.”

“I know, it’s just...different,” you said looking down and smoothing out your dress. Tom laced your fingers together and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. 

“Relax, darling,” he said. Just hearing his voice was enough to calm you, but when you looked up and met his eyes, all of the nerves washed away. “I’ll be here the whole time.”

You smiled and nodded, squeezing his hand back. 

“Okay,” you breathed, inhaling deeply. 

“We can wait outside for a little while until you’re ready to go in,” Tom offered, but you shook your head. 

“No, no it’s okay,” you said. “I’m ready.”

Tom smiled and you walked towards the stairs. If you had any nerves left, they really were washed away when you saw Jacob, Harrison, Zendaya, and James standing at the top of the stairs. 

“The lovebirds made it!” Harrison shouted and you and Tom both laughed, although you were sure your cheeks were bright red at this point. When you reached the top of the stairs, you and Tom were greeted with hugs from all your friends, the music was now really loud from inside. 

“Bro, they have so much Spider-Man stuff inside,” Jacob said slinging his arm around Tom’s shoulders. “Wait until you see it!”

James and Harrison followed Jacob and Tom inside, the four boys suddenly very excited to see the Spider-Man food, or the Far From Home decorations. Zendaya hooked her arm with yours and you followed the boys slowly. 

“Please don’t leave me alone with them,” Zendaya pleaded and you laughed entering the party. 

-

The country club had been completely rented out, and it looked as though you had been transported into the move. Red, blue and black decorations covered almost every inch of the building, streamers, different colored lights, and cupcakes with the cast members’ faces on each one were to be found in every room. Cardboard cutouts of the cast had also managed to scare the shit out of you whenever you turned a corner and saw Jake Gyllenhaal’s Mysterio staring at you. 

There was a very fancy photobooth that looked like a cube, but when you and your friends stepped inside, they had every single prop imaginable with funny filters that could be applied to the pictures being taken. You took many pictures, having to redo a few when James flipped you off during the group picture. 

You followed the group of the photobooth when Tom quickly pulled you back inside, and you yelped as he steadied you. 

“You scared me,” you hissed, but Tom just smiled at you and you couldn’t help but smile back. 

“I wanted to take a few pictures, just the two of us,” Tom said, and you giggled before nodding. 

You took a few goofy photos, mostly of Tom giving you bunny ears or you using the Spider-Man props in the booth, holding up the Spider-Man mask to your face. You were laughing so hard when you and Tom both did the Spider-Man pose, and Tom surprised you by pulling out silly string and spraying you with it. You yelped, laughing as the camera snapped a few more pictures. 

You turned to Tom, laughing while brushing silly string out of your eyes and you faltered when Tom suddenly pulled you flush against his chest. He smiled at you before connecting your lips in a kiss that made your head spin. You wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him closer, feeling his heart beat against his chest. 

The sound of the machine printing the many pictures that you took broke you away from getting lost in yet another kiss with Tom. You smiled as you grabbed the photos, showing Tom the few of you laughing and the ones of you both lost in the kiss. 

“You’ve got some...stuff in your hair,” Tom said with a grin while picking out some of the silly string. 

“Thanks to you,” you said, sticking out your tongue. Tom laughed and helped you get as much silly string off as you could before you both left the booth with the pictures in your hand. 

Hand-in-hand, you and Tom made your way over to the desserts and you plucked one of the cupcakes with Tom’s face on it before taking a bite out of it. Tom gasped, his hand flying to his chest and pretending to be hurt as he shook his head. 

“That was cruel,” he pouted. 

“You’re yummy,” you said, blushing when you realized the implications of your words. You both knew you weren’t just talking about the cupcake. 

Tom grinned, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he looked down at his feet nervously, scratching the back of his head. 

“There you are!” James shouted, jogging over to you while a song by Bruno Mars blasted in the background. “Don’t you guys want to come dance?”

“We will,” Tom said with a smile. James took the cupcake out of your hand a took a bite.

“Hey!” you scolded. “Get your own!”

“Nah, I’m lazy,” James said, taking another bite before handing a small piece left back to you. “Thanks (Y/N)!”

He ran off before you could yell at him, but you could only roll your eyes. You knew when your best friend was drunk and James was drunk. 

“Do you want to go dance?” you asked Tom seriously as you finished off your cupcake. 

“I’d love to.”

-

Seeing your friends dance while being intoxicated was a sight to see, especially when you saw Mike of all people, the stuck up and snobby production assistant, let loose and do some version of the chicken dance with Jacob. You had never been more amused. 

You spotted Freddie across the dance floor talking to one of the producers, probably his uncle and you rolled your eyes. You knew to avoid him. 

Soon Tony and Angourie came over and joined your ever expanding group. Tony snapped a few pictures of Harrison and Tom dancing, and one of you when James spun you around. You had never felt so carefree in your life. You had always been burdened with either the weight of your job or the pressures of your own relationships that you have never just let as loose as you did. And with people who you once thought of only as celebrities but now you saw as much more. 

If someone had told you a year ago that you’d be dancing with Tom Holland and Zendaya and James would be good buddies with Jacob Batalon and Harrison Osterfield you would have laughed in their faces. 

Suddenly, the music slowed down and your eyes wandered over to where Tom stood laughing with Harrison, a drink in his hand. He seemed to notice the sudden tempo change and he put his drink down on one of the tables located around the room. 

He walked over to you and smiled gently. 

“Do you wanna dance?” he asked holding out his hand. You felt like your breath had been caught in your throat but you managed to nod and take his hand. He pulled you close, resting his hands on your waist and you wrapped yours around his neck. 

“I’m not much of a dancer,” you admitted sheepishly. 

“You’re doing great,” Tom said with a smile as you swayed back and forth. You smiled back at him as you let the music surround you so that it was only you, Tom, and the melody. 

You noticed that Tom still had a small scar on his nose from when he broke it, and you couldn’t help but smile because that was what basically brought you together. You sighed and rested your head on Tom’s shoulder as you both continued to sway to the music. 

“(Y/N)?” Tom said after a few moments. You leaned your head back and looked up at him. 

“Hmm?”

“I...I uh...I wanted to tell you something,” Tom said, and you could feel his fingers drum against your hips. You cocked your head to the side, waiting for him to go on. 

“I think I’m falling for you,” Tom whispered, resting his forehead against yours. You felt like a sudden weight had been lifted off your chest and your lips curled into a smile that you couldn’t prevent even if you wanted to. 

“I think I’m falling for you, too,” you admitted, both to yourself and to Tom. Tom smiled. 

“Really?” he asked, almost giddily. 

“Really.”

Tom connected your lips again and you smiled against him, letting your hands curl in his hair at the nape of his neck. You stopped only when Harrison and James started hollering at you, telling you both to get a room. You and Tom broke apart, laughing as Tom told them to go fuck themselves and Harrison and James pretended to be seriously hurt by his words. 

“Want to go someone quiet to talk?” Tom whispered in your ear, sending goosebumps across your skin. You nodded and took his hand, followed him away from the crowd of people.

Tom pushed a door open, leading you both to a landing that overlooked the golf courses and gardens that surrounded the country club. You could see New York City in the distance, and the moon was shining brightly in the clear sky, illuminating you both. 

You leaned against the marble railing, looking out at the Hudson. A soft breeze pushed your hair back and you closed your eyes. 

“I meant it,” Tom said softly, standing next to you and leaning against the railing so that his arm was brushing against yours. 

“I did too,” you said, opening your eyes and looking at him. Tom smiled at you. 

“I’ve never felt like this,” you admitted. “For anyone.”

Tom took your hand in his. “Me neither, darling.”

You smiled up at him, the moon’s light reflecting against his doe eyes and your own. You spotted the scar on his nose again and brought your finger up to trace it gently. Tom closed his eyes under your touch and let out a sigh. 

“It healed nicely,” you said with a grin. 

“Thanks to you,” Tom chided. 

“Not really,” you chuckled. “All I did was give you pain meds and an ice pack.”

“You did more than that,” Tom whispered. You blushed at his words and looked down at your intertwined hands. 

“You healed me too, y’know?” you said. 

“Hmm, how’s that?” Tom asked. 

“Ever since I broke up with my ex...I’ve been really closed off to everyone,” you admitted. “You found a way to make me feel like myself again. You fixed my broken heart, Tom.”

Tom smiled gently before bringing a finger to your chin and leaning forward, pressing his lips to yours. 

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Tom whispered against your lips. You smiled and hugged him tightly, burying your face in his chest. 

“Not as amazing as you.”

You stood like that for a few minutes, taking in the beautiful New York City skyline and the moon casting shadows down on the gardens and golf course. You sighed in content, and knew you could stay like this in his arms forever. 

“Well, isn’t this a pretty sight?” a voice that sent chills down your spine and stopped your heart in your chest called out from behind you and Tom. You broke away from Tom and spun around, confirming your worst fear as you saw him standing by the doorway. 

“Will,” you choked out, almost a sob as you never wanted to see that bastard again, but there he was in front of you. He looked the same, same dark hair, same scowl that was glued to his face. 

“So lovely to see you again, (Y/N),” Will said. “And look at this! You’re cuddling all close to a celebrity!” 

“How are you here?” you sneered, stepping in front of Tom because you didn’t want Will anywhere near him. 

“Did you forget that I work here?” Will laughed. “Wow, you’re dumber than I remembered.”

Your blood boiled at his words, but you realized you never saw the name of the country club, but a part of you always thought it looked familiar. You never went to visit Will at work, but as soon as you thought of the name of the place he worked at, you remembered. He worked here before he moved to California. At least that’s what you thought. 

“(Y/N) is this-”

“Yeah,” you sighed looking at Tom. His eyebrows were furrowed and he had a hand protectively on your waist. 

“Get the fuck away from us,” you spat at Will. 

“I’m surprised you want her, man,” Will taunted Tom. “She’s a piece of work. You know, I’m surprised you let her be friends with that blonde asshole. He clearly just wants to fuck-”

“Shut up!” you shouted, your blood boiling. Seeing Will in front of you made you want to drop kick him to the next planet. 

“Why don’t you just turn around and walk back inside,” Tom said calmly. You admired him for staying so calm, but with every word that came out of Will’s mouth, Tom’s grip on your waist tightened. 

“Or what? Big movie star gonna fight me?” Will laughed. “Yeah, I’d like to see you try.”

“Don’t test me, mate,” Tom sneered, pulling you closer to him. 

Will laughed again. “(Y/N), tell your puppy dog to stand down. This doesn’t concern him.”

“It doesn’t concern me either,” you spat. “I told you I never want to see you again.”

“No, see that’s not how this works,” Will sneered. “I was going to propose, you know? When we moved to California together. But no you wanted to stay here. So what, you could fuck random other guys?”

“I would never marry you,” you shouted. “You’re a monster.”

“Oh I’m the monster?” Will laughed bitterly. “After you dumped me, I couldn’t handle it. I lost my job in California a week after I got it and had to come back here.”

You swallowed thickly. Your heart was hammering against your chest and it was hard to get enough air. 

“And then I find out you’re working on a movie?” Will scoffed. “And now you’re sleeping with the lead! Wow!”

“Shut up, Will!” you shouted louder than before, and you swore you saw a look of fear cross his face for a second. “I don’t want to fucking look at you, I don’t want to hear you talk, I don’t even want to know that you exist because in my mind, you’re dead to me!”

Will stared at you, his eyes hard and narrow as he always used to look when you’d fight and you felt like you were gong to throw up. 

“Breaking up with you was the best thing I’ve ever done,” you spat. 

Will shook his head. “Now why would you say something so mean?” 

You could practically smell the alcohol on him when a breeze blew by and you suddenly realized how drunk he was. And then he held up his hands. 

“I really had hoped you wouldn’t make me do this,” Will sighed, swinging the gun around like it was a toy. Your breathing halted and Tom suddenly stood fully in front of you. 

“Put the gun down, mate,” Tom said, his voice steady. You had no idea how he managed to stay so calm while you felt like you were going to freak out, scream, or throw up all at the same time. 

“No, I think I’ll hold it,” Will said, twirling it so more. 

“Will,” you said, stepping out from behind Tom even though he tried to push you back. “Stop.”

“No (Y/N)!” Will shouted, and suddenly the teasing and bullying was gone and replaced with just stone cold anger. “You ruined me, you stupid bitch! And guess what, now I’m going to ruin you.”

He raised the gun and in the millisecond of time that you managed to think, you looked at Tom and shoved him out of the way.

And the gun went off. 

-

part 10

whoops

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[chaoticneutralwriter]

15; Dark Chocolate

In which you recall satisfying your hunger with expensive chocolate but Jimin satisfied his in a very... different way.

idol!Jimin x staff!reader

genre: fluff, comedy, romance, things get a little spicy/steamy, slow-burn

word count: 6.3k (ooof)

A/N: So I decided to jump ahead in the timeline for this AU bc OOOF you know that look has birthed how many AUs and got me feelin’ all kinds of ways the power of Park Jimin. And whoo okay first stab at writing something a little more intimate and i suuucckkk so ;w; keep your expectations low.

You breathe in deeply, trying to regulate your palpitating heart because you cannot afford to be sweating in this dress right now. Funny and ironic because the dress is precisely the reason why you’re very close to breaking out into a nervous sweat. It’s a fancy award show in Japan, one of which you had to be part of the ‘escort’ team for the boys which you had no problem with (hey, it’s free access to a full award show), only part of the job was also having to adhere to the dress code.

 Your coworker had more of a field day than you when she heard the news, and aggressively insists that she helped you pick out your dress. In part of her insistence, she had talked you into wearing a rather daring number because, ‘you can’t have those idol girls show you up in front of your man! You need to work it girl!’

 And you can’t say her hype-woman ways didn’t get to you because here you are, about to step out of your hotel room to meet up with the rest of the team in that very same dress. The deep crimson colour is nice, it’s definitely something you’d wear but the cut of it is a whole other story. It had a plunging neckline that you can’t say you were use to but as if that wasn’t enough of being out of your comfort zone, the dress had a dual split-front right up each leg that allows for double the Angelina Jolie stance. The only thing saving you from chickening out completely in changing into your ‘backup’ is the long sleeve of the dress; it makes you feel a little…less exposed. Red strapped heels, a little smokey eye, loose waves that was side swept completed your ensemble that had you practically holding up a sign that screams, ‘Lady in Red.'

 You reach up to tuck the loose strand of hair back behind your ear, scowling a little at how shaky your hand had become. You huff once; trying to settle yourself once again by giving a pep talk that you can do this. You can totally march out of here and sashay your way like you own this place. Girl, you. Look. Good.

 Satisfied, you grab your small clutch, checking over if you forgot anything and then fling the door open before the surge of confidence goes away. Your heels are muted against the carpeted flooring of the hotel, but you put an extra stomp to your step to also keep yourself from tripping (heels and carpet are not a good combination). You round the corner just in time to the designated meeting spot, only finding a couple of people already there, dressed up to standard for the occasion.

 You greet them with a bow though you modestly kept a hand close to your chest to avoid unnecessary flashing and smile shyly when compliments were given your way. It boosts your confidence a little, however it fans at your nerves just a little more as slowly but surely, the members start making their appearances.

 “Ohh wow, noona.” Hoseok smiles widely, giving an approving nod your way that makes your cheeks heat up involuntarily. “You’re like a true ‘Lady in Red’. Ah, they’re done for now.”

 You laugh breathlessly; waving off his comment as if he could really say anything about you when he looks about ready to kill half the nation with just his looks alone (the stylists has unleashed the forehead after all, your prayers to the fandom). You say so as much and he laughs boisterously in return, clearly embarrassed by the way his face flushes pink even under the foundation. As more of the boys trickle in, looking red carpet ready in a variety of black suits, the cycle is repeated; greetings were exchanged along with compliments and whoever threw it out first was given one in return and soon everyone is reduced to a bashful, awkward shy mess (even Seokjin, who held out the longest, had his ears turning redder than a tomato by the end of it).

 It makes you feel a little at ease, the way these six arguably most sought out men are still not used to being dressed up and complimented for their good looks. However, your ease was short-lived when the last of the member, Jimin, strolls up, still in the process of shrugging on his jacket with the help of stylists trailing behind him; this man who you thought couldn’t steal your breath away any more than he did on a regular basis, is doing so to the point you don’t even know what breathing is anymore now.

 He’s dressed in a classic black suit to match with the rest of his member’s look; no shine, no sparkles, just plain and simple but the clean look of it along with his coiffed, neatly styled hair had him looking like the heir to an insanely large business mogul, or better yet, an actual CEO of one. The moment he looks up from straightening and buttoning his jacket, eyes meeting yours….

 Hoseok’s right; they’re done for, and by them he actually should’ve meant you because holy hell.

 Jimin looks surprised for a moment as his gaze moves over you, feeling him taking you in and you resist the urge to swallow loudly but by the time his eyes trail back up to yours, it’s taken on a darken look that you can’t help but immediately break eye contact. Thankfully, the managers has taken to getting everyone moving once all was accounted for so the exchange had gone unnoticed, save for the ever watchful and attentive members who only share knowing smiles at one another.

 Your focus is immediately drawn on the rundown of your duties and what’s expected of everyone who’s supporting that’s being given. As much as it’s nice to get dolled up, you still had a job to do. So in a whirlwind that you’re still not quite used to, you’re rushed into separate vans and transported to the venue.

 As soon as you’ve arrived, you go your separate ways to be able to meet and escort the boys ahead of time, touch up their makeup and straighten their suits and direct them to the right staff members to be shown their seats. 

 You find yourself trying to catch your breath for the second time that night from all the rushing you had to do.

 Right on time, the boys walk through after being interviewed on the red carpet, greeting the camera before disappearing down the hall to enter the auditorium through another set of doors meant for artists.

 “Y/N-ssi, can you straighten Jimin-ssi’s tie? It looks like it’s bunching a little.” A makeup artist asks, glancing up only briefly from blotting Yoongi’s face. You gulp but nod regardless, tucking the makeup bag under your arm before you move to where the blonde is standing. He just got his makeup retouched, the makeup artist moving on quickly to the next member, which allowed for you to take her place in front of him. You firmly keep your eyes on his tie; gaze barely traveling up beyond his chin but the close proximity still has your heart beating faster than it should. You could practically feel his breath fanning against your forehead.

 “You look beautiful tonight, noona.” He speaks lowly, keeping the conversation between just the two of you. It makes your breath hitch a little as you look up from beneath your lashes, straightening his tie as best you can.

 “I look like a potatoe beside you.” You say in an attempt to brush off the compliment from burning your cheeks off; it doesn’t work thanks to Jimin’s breathless chuckle.

 “Don’t say that. If anything, you’ll be a sweet potatoe; my favourite.”

 You snort a little before covering it up by clearing your throat. You can only smack him lightly against his chest for giving such a greasy line. He doesn’t seem to care if the wide grin on his face is anything to go by. Your hands travel up to fix his collar and it’s then that you feel him leaning closer; much too close to having one’s collar be fixed. You subtly begin to lean back, but all he does is follow and that’s when you know; he’s teasing you.

 The little shit.

 You give one last pat before stepping away completely, his cologne lingering in your senses. He sends you a smirk before he’s rushed off with the rest to get to their seats. You let out a sigh, giving your own pat on the face to get a hold of yourself as you’re being called away.

 “Since you’ll be seated in a VIP section, can you film some footage for Bangtan Bombs?”  A VJ asks, handing you a handy cam. You’ve only been given permission to film a couple of times but it’s enough for you to get the gist of working the camera and what sorts of footage they want.

 Flashing your staff badge around your neck, you’re lead to your own seating section, placed at the very edge of the artist seating area up top. If you strained your neck a bit, you spot the backs of the boys’ heads and though you had to also angle yourself to get a view of the stage, you were satisfied with your seating (and you get your own modesty blanket too, sweet). Settling in, you brace yourself for the long ride.

 Halfway through the show and about three awards won by the boys later, you set your camera down to give your arm a rest during a commercial break. You roll your shoulders, trying to work out the kinks and contemplate on going to the restroom to freshen up and stretch your legs.

 One bathroom trip later, all the water is gone from your stomach, which makes you realize how hungry you actually are. Is there a secret snack table for artists somewhere that you can mooch off from? Damn it, that’s what you forgot: snacks in your clutch, you should’ve snuck some.

 Pouting, you make your way back to your seat only to be stopped by none other than Jimin. He smiles before waving you over from his seat next to Namjoon’s (who’s missing, probably a bathroom break like you) and curiously, you make your way over.

 “Is there something you need?” You ask, grabbing the larger fabric of your dress to make a makeshift modesty blanket to kneel down without flashing anyone and lean a little closer to him to talk over the noise. Jimin, in turn, leans in and you had to hold yourself back from shivering when his voice comes close to your ear.

 “When we go perform, you can take my seat to film; it has a better view of the stage.” 

 You blink perplexedly but all he does is shoot you a charming smile that has you blushing almost immediately. You avert your gaze, clearing your throat and hurriedly agree to slink back to your seat, already feeling the heat of the cameras, no doubt from Jimin’s fan sites. You’d rather not have a field day in doing damage control if anything gets blown out of proportion. However, Jimin seems to have other ideas.

 “How are you enjoying the show? Are you doing okay?” His hand subtly grazes the wrist of your hand that’s hidden from prying eyes, stopping you from your retreat. You nearly keen over at the genuinely sweet concern he has but also very well nearly combust at the same time.

 “I’m doing okay, I’m also really enjoying the show and performances. Also,” You beam, can’t help the widening smile that stretches across your painted lips. “Congratulations, to you and Bangtan; looks like you’ll each be getting a trophy before the end of the night.” 

 Jimin’s own smile takes up his face, eyes crinkling to crescents as he bashfully tilts his head to the side as if trying to hide the pink tinge taking up his cheeks. “Ah, noona, don’t say that…” 

 You let out a little laugh but compose yourself as you catch sight of the broadcasting camera getting into position and the big screen showing their last advertisement, signaling the start of the show again.

 “I should get going.” You say, making show of fixing your staff badge around your neck. 

 “Ah, yeah.” Jimin makes a move to run his hand through his hair but stops himself midway, realizing he shouldn’t ruin it and instead places it on the back of his neck to rub shyly, averting his gaze. You hold back a giggle at how cute he looks. Before you straighten up fully, he speaks up again. “I hope you look forward to our stage.”

 You smile back at him, not hiding your enthusiasm. “Of course I will.” 

 And you were definitely not disappointed. Their stage has never failed to amaze you and the audience alike; always so pumped with energy, precision, and showmanship that have the auditorium shaking (literally! You swore you felt your seat vibrate to the beat of the song). As well as per Jimin’s suggestion, you got quite the view and you swear more than once you’ve caught Jimin purposefully going towards your side of the stage just to show off.

 Cheeky.

 But as fast as the excitement came, it’s over in a flash and before you know it, you’re preparing to leave for the hotel. Everyone is rightfully exhausted and you don’t blame them; the entire night you didn’t think the boys were in their seats for more than fifteen minutes at a time. However, there’s still a slight buzz in the air that conveyed their good mood as everyone piled into the vans. Even so, a shower and warm bed (and maybe some room service) is something everyone is looking forward to now.

 You all pile into the elevator, the boys chattering amiably with each other about their performances, the awards and how thankful they are that everything went smoothly and no one got hurt, as well as the awards they were blessed with. 

 “I told Jimin you guys would probably be getting an award each to carry home by the end of the night. I should’ve turned it into a bet.” You playfully say, causing most of the boys to laugh.

 “Wow, you would’ve made a fortune!” Seokjin exclaims while still laughing. The blonde in question giggles before you feel his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him until you feel the heat of his body. He’s changed out of the suit and tie like the rest of the boys, wearing a comfy sweatshirt and dark pants. His hair is still styled and he’s yet to wipe off his makeup too, but the dressed down appearance makes him radiate boyfriend vibes.

 “I’ll buy you something nice then as a way to congratulate you on your prediction.” And if you weren’t already flustered enough, he places a chaste kiss on the top of your head. It elicits a series of whoops and hollers that practically shake the lift. 

 “I—That’s not what I mean, you don’t have to do that Jimin-ah.” You mutter bashfully.

 “What if I want to spoil you?” is his confident reply.

 “Oohhh!! Manly Park Jimin-ssi!!” Hoseok whoops, joined in by Jungkook who’s contorting his expression into something between hardcore cringing and wholesome hyping.

 You try to seem appalled by the renewed ruckus but can only muster a half-hearted smack to Jimin’s chest before burying your face in it when the catcalls from the other boys don’t stop.

 “Hey, stop guys you’re making her shy.” You hear Jimin reprimand lightly, hearing the slight laughter reverberate from his chest as he rubs your back in comfort. “Don’t mind them noona.”

 “Okay, okay, leave the two lovebirds alone guys.” Namjoon chimes in just as the lift reaches the right floor. You had to hold back a laugh on that as you remove your face from your makeshift hiding space by the way Jimin whines at his other members to stop teasing him. You all shuffle out and the boys start going their separate ways to their rooms except for Jimin, who’s seems very adamant on keeping you glued to his side as he leads you in the direction of your room.

 With the shouts of goodnights (and more teases) dying down behind you, you’re finally left alone in the quiet hotel hallway with the handsome blonde.

 “Are you hungry? Should we have dinner together before sleeping?” Jimin asks, voice taking on a low timbre. As if by the mention of food, you feel and hear your stomach rumble and growl as if agreeing for you. It pulls a tinkling laugh from Jimin, one that makes you duck your head in embarrassment, even though you had no intentions of turning down his suggestion, so you could only mumble a yes. 

 You think you hear a ‘cute’ amongst his giggling as you fish out your room card and unlock your door. As you both head inside, he gives your waist a squeeze before breaking off to head over to the phone.

 “What do you want to eat noona?” He calls from over his shoulder as you awkwardly try to unstrap your heels and walk at the same time, eager to flop onto your bed. 

 “A salmon fillet? Maybe miso ramen…?” You trail off, not really sure because you just need sustenance so Jimin’s affirmation noise of hearing your initial answer doesn’t bother you. You finally get your heels off with a huff of relief, flinging them to where you think your luggage is and as you’re about to swan dive into your downy duvets, you’re stopped by the sight of a dark brown box, tied with a nice golden bow, situated perfectly in between two lumps of towels folded expertly to look like swans.

 Chocolates.

 More specifically; Godiva chocolates.

 Bless.

 You like to thank God but also Jesus for allowing you to have this bougie job to be able to get these bougie chocolates in your time of need, you think as you nearly mangle the perfect bow of the ribbon in getting the lid open to the cocoa goodness inside.

 Each piece looks delectable and mouth watering, so you didn’t give it much thought as you pluck one out and pop it into your mouth. You moan to yourself in satisfaction as the first rich taste of chocolate hits your taste buds, your stomach approving as well. You get through the first piece in no time, eager to pick out a second one. As you work through your second piece, you actually take a look at the back of the lid to see what flavours you’re currently eating and which are left (though to be honest, it’s not like it’ll change your mind on not eating them since they all sound as delicious as they look).

 “What’re you up to pretty girl?” 

 You’re startled by a deep Busan drawl and you’re quick to realize that it’s Jimin who snuck up behind you while you were so immersed with your chocolate studying. You swallow the piece in your mouth loudly (you rather not risk choking on it instead), eyes wide from his close proximity. He only smirks mischievously at you, eyes hooded and dark like you had seen just briefly when you first walked out of your room, making your breath hitch a little before his eyes drift to your point of interest.

 “Oh, chocolates! Were they complimentary?” And like that, sweet, angelic Jimin is switched back and it takes you a moment to reorient yourself.

 “Y-Yeah; found them on the bed and…got kinda hungry…” You answer lamely. Jimin hums noncommittally, wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his chin on your shoulder so naturally that you’re a little envious at how easily he initiates skinship.

 “Looks good, can I have one?” His breath tickles your cheek and you have to fight off a shudder to hold up the box and offer it to him. He doesn’t make any movement to reach for one and as you throw him a questioning look, he shoots you a grin before opening his mouth with an ‘ah’ in response.

 Ah, this little—

 “I don’t know which one you want.” Your voice comes out strained, trying to keep cool. Jimin takes the time to laugh.

 “I think anything you give me will be good.” 

 “But you have hands….”

 “But I like being fed. Especially if it’s you.”

 Wow…. You’re about to ascend soon.

 You can only blink at him, having been rendered speechless with a gradually heating face and all he does is smile back innocently. It goes on for what seems like minutes before he nudges you and throws in his finishing move; a pout. You give in. 

 Taking a glance at the chocolate box, you scan it briefly before picking a piece out and bring it up to Jimin, who eagerly leans forward to capture it with his mouth. Least to say, nothing could've prepared you for the feeling of warm, plush lips brushing against your fingertips. You’re lucky that the chocolate piece was in his mouth or else you would’ve definitely dropped it by how fast you take back your hand in surprise, heart racing a mile a minute.

 Jimin doesn’t seem to mind, chewing cheerfully and letting out an exaggerated hum of satisfaction. “Mmm… These really are Godiva chocolate huh?” 

 You nod, trying to calm yourself by choosing another piece of chocolate to devour. You take one blindly and pop it into your mouth without thought, letting the sweet taste wash over you and it seems to do the trick.

 “Noona.”

 You turn on instinct and are met with a familiar feeling: warm, plush lips. Only this time, they graze the corner of your mouth. It’s so feather-light that for a moment you weren’t sure if you actually felt them but he lingers, waiting and watching you. For a moment, you forget how to breathe (for the nth time).

 “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. Was that okay?” He asks carefully, voice a little above a whisper as if he doesn’t want to scare you. You feel his breath fan against your cheeks, the sweet smell of the chocolate faint but you find that his words were sweeter. It makes you smile.

 “It’s fine…. You just surprised me.”

 “Then…. Can I kiss you?”

 The question never fails to make butterflies flutter in your stomach and you find that every time, your answer doesn’t change; you nod. You can see the way he lights up, holding a smile back before leaning in to press his lips fully on yours. You meet him halfway. The kiss is slow and tender, wherein Jimin takes his time in molding his lips to perfectly fit yours, enjoying the taste and feel. Though this isn’t the first time he’s kissed you, he still acts like it does, committing every moment to memory. You’re absolutely lost in the feeling, eyes shut and just letting your senses and him guide you that you almost miss the way he pulls you closer, shifting you so that you’re practically on his lap and facing more towards him. 

 You feel his hand cup the underside of your jaw, caressing lightly with his thumb and the rings on his fingers feel much cooler against your rapidly heating skin. There are moments that you two break away briefly, but as if like magnets, you draw back to each other for more. As the kiss drags on into a full blown make-out, Jimin gets more confident.

 You feel the first brush of tongue against your bottom lip; it’s light and almost cautious, like he’s testing the waters. It takes you by surprise that your brain stutters to process it. Now this is definitely a first. It’s a first but you find yourself not wanting to shy away and though your heart is racing with anticipation and nerves, you still felt a sense of trust and security. So tentatively, you part your lips. 

 For a moment you think you’re doing it wrong but then you feel Jimin shift and then you feel a brush of his tongue again, this time against the roof of your mouth. You shiver involuntarily then, floundering but with Jimin’s coaxing, he draws you deeper into the kiss. You can practically taste the chocolate he just had: the sweet and bitter taste intermingling with the velvet feel of his lips and tongue. The new sensation has you sighing against his mouth, feeling like putty.

 He pulls away slowly, lips swollen and you swear a little pinker thanks to your faded lip tint; you wonder if yours is in the same state. The bedside lamp casts dark shadows across his face, highlighting the sheen his lips have taken and not hiding how blown out his pupils have become. You’re both out of breath, panting as you take the other in but Jimin is evidently less in a daze than you are because he’s moving again with a mind made up.

 He reaches for the forgotten chocolate box that you still have clutched in your hand, letting him take it from you to place on the nightstand.

 “I think that’s enough chocolate; don’t want to spoil dinner.” Jimin’s voice has taken on a deep rasp that has your breath hitching in your throat, eyes smoldering in a way you’ve never seen before. You lick your lips out of nervous habit but the action seems to catch Jimin’s attention, dark eyes flitting to them before they come back up to lock on you again. And as if like a trigger, he leans forward, capturing your lips with a kiss that belies ferocity. You’re absolutely flustered that for a moment you have a hard time keeping up with the way he molds his lips to yours and suddenly you think you might be dinner.

 Your hands find his shoulders as a brace and he seems to lean more into your touch eagerly. As he shifts to put more of his weight into you, you naturally let your hands travel to accommodate, leaving no resistance and soon, as if wanting to eliminate any space, he’s got you both falling back against the bed with your arms around his neck and him pulling you closer by your hips.

 “I haven’t kissed you at all tonight.” He says breathlessly between kissing you senseless. “I thought I was going to go crazy.”

 You let out a quiet laugh, not really understanding his dramatics but it’s hard to think properly when his lips are doing such a good job at distracting you. Jimin eventually lets his lips wander, pressing kisses to your jawline and moving downwards, keen on covering every surface of skin he can find.

 “And you had to go looking like this too. Ah really, are you trying to kill me noona…” He sucks a kiss into your neck, just below your ear and like a knee-jerk reaction, your back arches and the first sounds of a soft moan is pulled from your lips. It comes out before you realize it and immediately you feel your face become redder than a tomato, eyes widening because holy shit….

 Jimin freezes at the sound too, his ministrations halting though you can still feel his warm breath tickling against your damp skin. And then, you feel a twitch of his lips that you belatedly register as a smirk before they’re moving again on your neck. His newfound knowledge of the sensitive patch of skin lets him easily pull more breathy moans and soft whimpers from you. You’re starting to wonder who’s really trying to kill who at this point.

 Evidently, his lips were not the only thing that’s wandering. You feel the weight of the hand on your hip begin to shift, trailing down until you feel deft fingers brush your bare thighs. Your leg twitch as you freeze, startled; you completely forgot your dress had those revealing slits. Jimin stills his hand, hovering just out of reach at your reaction and he lifts his head up from kissing your collarbones to meet your gaze, worry washing away the cardinal hunger.

 “Sorry, I startled you. Do you want me to stop?”

 You take the time to gather yourself, blinking away the haze. “Ah…” You’re not sure what to say, your clearing mind giving way for self-conscious thoughts to invade. It’s not that you didn’t like it, just that you’re still testing the waters yourself with being intimate with someone after so long. But despite your obvious fumbling, Jimin is patient and considerate, always making sure you’re comfortable above everything else. 

 You can’t contain a smile at the thought.

 “What?” Jimin chuckles as he rests his hand on the mattress, the piercing grey-blue contacts he has on muted by the adoring gleam his eyes radiate; they practically drip honey.

 “Nothing…. Thank you for being so concerned, Jimin.” You say sincerely, voice quiet from not wanting to break the intimate moment that’s still lingering in the air.

 He shoots you a beaming smile, bringing up a hand to brush your hair back from your face. 

 “What are you saying? What kind of boyfriend would I be if I wasn’t?”

 Boyfriend….

 The word makes a warmth blossom in your chest, which is ironic enough because months before, the word had no meaning to you nor did you really want there to be. You remained indifferent to it. That is, until you met Jimin who’s managed to worm his way into your heart and you’ve never been more thankful. 

 “Mmm you’re right…” You grin back. 

 “Of course,” He says smugly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours, not before sneaking in a quick peck to the tip of your nose that has you giggling. “You could say you have the best boyfriend in the world.”

 You hum, biting your lip to keep another fit of giggles from coming in an attempt to play coy. But what can you say; Park Jimin is a man with his words.

 You sigh, feigning reluctance, “I guess I have no choice but to acknowledge it.”

 Jimin smiles widely to the point his eyes disappear and he has to contain his own bout of giggles. “And you’re the best girlfriend in the world.” He says, voice full of affection before kissing you. Soon though, the soft, short kisses gradually turn deeper and longer. 

 “I don’t mind…” You get out huskily before you’re completely lost in the heat of it all again. Jimin pauses, a mere breadth away to register what your words meant but when he does, his breath hitches a little. His eyes search yours as if making absolute sure, to which you offer a small smile, not looking away from him as you raise a reassuring hand to rest on his cheek.

 That’s all he needs to dive back in with renewed enthusiasm. Your senses were filled with nothing but Jimin; the feel of plush lips kissing yours swollen, the smell of his cologne, the softness of his hair as your fingers run through them and the sounds of his pants and muffled moans, all blending together into an intoxicating drug that has you wanting more.

 Like a scene repeating itself, you feel the first brush of fingers along your thigh once again, only this time; they daringly progress further until you feel the whole warmth of his palm resting on it. 

 “So soft….” Jimin breathes out, more to himself than to you, letting his hand glide slowly over the smooth skin reverently. Before you can let out a laugh, endeared by his unconscious slip of thought, he’s back to sucking kisses on your neck and down your throat and all you could do is shut your eyes and lean your head back, the sensation overwhelming.

 It only allows more access of skin for Jimin and he’s all too pleased as he brings you as close as you can, dragging your leg to wrap around his hips with a firm hand, kneading so delectably into the aching muscles. It’s getting hot, you’re getting hot, and this dress you’re wearing is starting to stick to you like a second skin uncomfortably. And on top of that, Jimin’s sweatshirt is not helping in elevating the heat; it’s just making it worse.

 But just as your hands start to tug at the fabric of Jimin’s shirt, a loud melodic chime cuts through the air. 

 You let out a loud gasp like you had been shocked, nails seizing into Jimin’s shoulder and he chokes out a groan as his attention whips to the direction of the door, body taut from the sudden interruption. After a moment though, he breathes out through his nose, deflating and then dropping his head to rest on your shoulder, blond strands of hair tickling your cheek as you let out your own breath to calm your racing heart.

 “Aish, really…. this timing…” You hear him grumbling and you had to hold back a laugh. The doorbell rings again, the incessant noise a signal that you would have to put this steamy session on hold for another time. You pat Jimin’s arm lightly and he reluctantly lets up his weight.

 “We can tell them to come back….” Jimin tries, blinking wide, puppy-dog eyes at you but you shake your head, smiling widely at him.

 “Jimin-ah I’m hungry, we need to eat.” 

 “But I already had my dinner.” 

 “Yah Park Jimin—!” You gasp, giving his shoulder a nudge, scandalized. He only doubles over laughing, tossing himself to rest beside you on the bed all squeaks and giggles. You roll your eyes playfully, getting up to make your way to the door but Jimin stops you by standing as well and grabbing your wrist.

 “It’s okay noona, I’ll get it for you.”

 “I can go get it, I’m already—“

 “No, no I’ll do it.” Jimin insists, spinning you so that you trade places before forcing you to plop back onto the bed. “A princess shouldn’t have to get up.” 

 “Princess…” You wheeze incredulously as Jimin just laughs again. You shake your head in disbelief though your lips twitch in holding back another smile. He rushes off to get the door and before long, he’s wheeling in a white-clothed table with silver serving covers. He pushes it over to where you’re sitting before he dramatically makes a show of presenting the dish like he’s a butler.

 What a goof.

 The rest of the night is pretty much spent enjoying each other’s company; Jimin talking about episodes that happened before getting on stage and meeting his other idol friends (while occasionally asking to be fed and sampling your food). The atmosphere is relaxing and you can’t help but find it a little amazing that you’re sitting here; with Jimin who’s become someone you deeply care and love. And crazier is that he’s willing to stick by you and help break out of your shell, even when you don’t know what you’re doing half the time. 

 Well, you suppose neither of you do really. 

 But you guess that’s the comfort of it all.

 -

 It’s a little past midnight by the time Jimin decided he should let you rest of the night. Ever the gentleman, he makes sure to take care of the table, rolling back outside to leave by your door before coming back in to say goodnight.

 “Make sure you don’t stay up too late, even though it’s not good to go to sleep right after you just ate.” Jimin says, stopping right in front of the door to face you.

 “I know, I gotta take off all this make-up anyways so…it’ll be a while.” You reply back nonchalantly. He makes a noise of disapproval, grasping your hand and swinging them gently between you two.

 “You’re beautiful with or without make-up, it doesn’t matter how much you got on.”

 The statement makes you laugh shyly, head tilting down in an attempts to hide the blush creeping onto your face. A hand brings it back up however and you find yourself staring up at twinkling grey-blue eyes. He smiles, tilting his head to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

 When he pulls back, he takes a moment to just stare as if he’s taking in every feature of your face, one hand cupping your cheek. You see the way his eyes wander languidly, from the tops of your head before trailing down and lingering down to your chin and neck. You see the beginnings of a smirk itching to make itself known on those full lips of his but he smoothly transitions it to be a sweet smile.

 “Goodnight, noona.” He says.

 “Sleep well, Jimin.” You reply, giving the hand you’re holding a squeeze. With one last gentle caress, Jimin reluctantly opens the door and steps out, turning back briefly to send a small wave over his shoulder. You send one back and you as slowly as you could you shut the door.

 You let out a whoosh of air, placing a hand to your pounding heart in an attempt to prevent it from actually bursting out of your chest. Your cheeks are burning, they also hurt from the wide grin on your face but you feel as giddy as a schoolgirl. 

 “Gosh, relax.” You mutter to yourself, patting your cheek as you make your way to the bathroom. Stepping inside, you search for your makeup wipes, pulling one out of the packet and as you turn to face the mirror….“Holy shit—!”

 Along one side of your neck down to the edge of your collarbone were reddish-purple bruises. You double take to make sure you’re not just seeing things but they were there all right. 

 You huff out a sigh of resignation; this is gonna be a pain in the ass to cover and only thing Jimin is gonna do is probably giggle himself to sleep tonight.

[beholdme]

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 16

Chapters: 16/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15]

Right in the middle of mild renovations, and Martin moving into the loft, Gerry has a showcase sneak up on him.

They're in the very chaotic process of turning three lives into one and it's unfortunate timing, but he's willing to cope to have his partners close at hand.

Jon is also in the process of moving in, but more slowly, having kept his flat for an extra month, hoping to ease the chaos. Two cats and several duplicate pieces of furniture clutter the space, and everything is just a bit out of sorts.

Gerry's showcases are an odd thing. As an anonymous artist, working under a pseudonym, he doesn't technically have to go to his shows, but Gertrude likes for him to be around, and she tells everyone he's one of her assistants so he can attend without a fuss. No one ever takes any notice and he gets to watch people react to his paintings with absolutely no idea that he's present. It's an odd feeling that often leaves him disquiet, but he never regrets going. As an artist, there's nothing better than seeing your art on display, with just the right environment and just the right lighting.

This time, he also has a bit of a plan brewing.

Feeling truly rooted in the foundations of their relationship after more than a year, Gerry presents Jon and Martin with very fancy, formal invitations, complete with a bow and a suggestive wink.

“Will you be my companions for the evening, gentlemen?” Gerry seems to be doing a very pompous impression of Elias, which sends Jon into instant hysterics.

While he’s distracted, Martin pulls Gerry close and they swing around the room, mimicking some kind of waltz, before bashing into a table and then a couch. They cut their losses and simply kiss breathlessly in the middle of the laughter.

"So," Gerry asks them when they've all settled down and gone back to trying to install the new storage cabinets. "What do you think? Want to be my plus two?"

Jon laughs sweetly from nearby, a screwdriver in hand. "I think I can speak for both of us when I say that we wouldn't miss it for anything."

***

There's a fair amount of chaos as the day approaches, Gerry trying to complete and send off several final pieces while Martin and Jon frantically search for their formal wear in the boxes that currently pass for their wardrobes.

Eventually giving up on trying to organize the walk-in closet to accommodate all three of them, Gerry and Tim drag both Jon and Martin's armoires up the stairs and they all unpack their clothes in their own wardrobes.

This is a rather tumultuous activity, which somehow ends with Tim shirtless and Gerry wearing a bright teal and pink Hawaiian shirt, open over a black lace bralette. No one even tries to guess where the bralette comes from, but Gerry decides he likes it, and Jon eyes him approvingly.

"You should wear that to the opening, Gerry," Martin suggests provocatively from nearby. "Give your own art some competition."

Gerry smirks at him. "I think you should come over here and say that to my face."

"Oh God, can I watch?" Tim asks a hopeful excitement not quite masked by the humour.

Jon manages to sneak a sweet candid of Gerry and Martin laughing with Tim, all looking like they showed up to different parties. Overcome to see his two partners and his best friend all so happy together, Jon decides it might be his favourite thing ever.

***

In the end, their suits are unearthed, wrinkled but intact. They send them off to be dry cleaned right in the nick of time.

The night before his event, in a pique of creative mania, Gerry dyes his hair alone at 3 A.M. Martin and Jon wake up to find his hair a slightly blotchy silver-grey, which they both coo over lustily.

Jon gently helps him even it out, and by the time his hair is clean and dry again, he looks striking and angular. In his dark blue trousers and well-fitted waistcoat, eyeliner and piercings in place, he looks downright picturesque himself- a work of art who also happens to create works of art.

Jon has a favourite black suit with a very faint pinstripe pattern, which he wears with a green waistcoat and matching green tie, to compliment his mossy eyes. His white shirt contrasts pleasantly against his tawny skin and even he agrees that he looks rather handsome.

Martin owns exactly one suit- it's a light grey colour just a little too cool to flatter his summery skin tone, and it doesn't fit quite right through the shoulders, if he's being honest. Gerry gently encourages him to wear his trousers and crisp white shirt with a warm maroon sweater. It's soft cashmere, made even softer (according to Martin's poetic side) by the fact that his lover's gave it to him for Christmas. Gerry's artist eye managed to pick out precisely the right shade to compliment his warm brown eyes and pink hair, and the ensemble leaves him looking quite lovely.

He eyes his bow ties indecisively, and Jon wanders over and hands him a dark blue-grey one with tiny white dots. He even ties it for Martin, and he offers a sweet kiss in exchange.

“You look splendid,” Jon remarks, pulling Martin carefully towards him by the elbows before pressing their lips together chastely. They kiss for several moments, lips dragging together pleasantly. Jon runs his hands down Martin’s forearms to tangle their fingers together, where they fit together snuggly.

Martin sighs as they part, all outfit uncertainty having fled. “What was that for?”

“I just couldn’t help myself.” Jon chuckles, grinning. “I see a stunning man, I have to kiss him.”

“So it’s not because my dotty bow tie fills you with incandescent joy?” Martin presses their foreheads together, simply basking in Jon’s presence.

“Everything about you fills us with incandescent joy,” Jon whispers to him. “Especially the way you can make the perfect cup of tea."

“And,” Gerry adds, coming up to place a hand at the small of Martin’s back. “The way that you can remember the love story from every book you’ve ever read.”

“I-” Martin laughs sweetly at them, blushing fiercely. “You guys.’’

They all stand together for a moment, each looking spectacular in their own ways, soft looks on their faces. Gerry vaguely wishes this was the whole day, that he could just stand here with his lovers and convince Martin that he is the most perfect man on earth. He wishes he could just tease Jon until he snaps and tries to tickle Gerry to death, and they would end up all rolling around the floor, ignoring the many extra pieces of furniture currently occupying the flat.

Gerry wishes for these soft and special moments and knows that there will be a million more of them as time goes on and that the moment coming will (hopefully) be perfect in its own way.

They each share a kiss with the others, then they grab their things and make their way downstairs, excited and jubilant, all laughter and easy affection. They pile into a cab together and Gerry tells them stories of past showcases, full of ridiculous moments and strange pride at his impossible artistic success.

The second they arrive, Gerry is summoned away and with a wink and a grin, he’s gone. Martin and Jon exchange a smile, joining hands and moving through the gentle crowd. There are plenty of people in attendance already, but the sorts of people who go to galleries are the quiet sort, and there isn’t a lot of boisterous energy flying about.

They wander around, finding many paintings which they have seen Gerry working on over the last year, and unsurprisingly, several they’ve never caught a glimpse of.

Sometimes Gerry will work on a painting for weeks and then keep it around for months, looking at it every day, and then other times he'll paint an entire piece in 18 hours, decide he never wants to see it again and send it straight to Gertrude for safekeeping.

It’s all a part of his creative rhythms, and they’ve long since grown accustomed to it.

The gallery itself is a series of thin rooms, with a bench down the middle for extended viewings. Each is filled with four paintings, even if they are wildly different sizes. They seem to be arranged by vague categories, but Jon and Martin are amused to see that a 3D piece made mostly out of torn book pages and painted to appear aflame is hung across from an oil painting of a colony of seals swimming across a galaxy in the night sky.

Gerry reappears at intervals, whispering secrets to them as they consider one piece or another. At the painting of a siren singing longingly to a falling comet, Gerry whispers something into Martin's ear which makes him smirk in a way that fills Jon with burning curiosity. Instead of sharing with him as well, Gerry pecks him on the cheek and then dashes off at the behest of a harassed looking assistant of Gertrude’s.

“What did he say?” Jon implores Martin softly after he’s gone again.

“Apparently he was thinking of us in a very specific way while he painted that one.” Martin is still grinning smugly.

“Ah,” Jon says, nodding. “Naked?”

“Very naked.”

“You know, I rather imagined that was what he was always thinking of while he painted.” Jon confesses.

“Really? That’s a lot of imagined nudity.” Martin whispers, threatening to spill over with laughter.

“Well-” Jon bristles slightly. “We’re very nice to look at naked, like- like muses!” He finishes triumphantly.

“A point well made, love.” Martin concedes.

He drags Martin to the next room after that, and they find it to be the final part of the exhibit.

There are only two paintings here, a matched pair of the same size, sitting on the end wall side by side. They’re another two neither of them has ever seen before, and Jon draws Martin to sit on the bench and simply absorb the art together. Their hands are twined, and they feel rather overwhelmed with unspeakable emotion.

There are a pair of matching sold signs beneath them, bold and unmissable.

Gerry finds them sitting there, and he sits himself on the other side of Martin, gently taking his other hand.

“Oh, Gerry.” Martin eventually whispers, awe-struck.

“Do you like them?” Gerry squeezes his hand, and Jon reaches over Martin to tangle his fingers in the pile. It’s messy, just the way they all like it.

“Very, very much,” Martin affirms.

“Gerry, they’re spectacular.” Jon offers his appreciation. “How did you get them done without us ever seeing them? They’re huge.”

“I finished them months ago, before we spent so many nights all together, then I kept them in the storerooms before I shipped them off to Gertrude,” Gerry explains. “I wanted you to see them here, like this, for the first time.”

“Why?” Martin asks, voice full of warm curiosity.

“It's the way you each make me feel, and I wanted you both to have this moment, to see them displayed to their best potential,” Gerry whispers to them, the space feeling sacred and private, despite the people wandering the gallery around them. "It seemed more poignant than simply saying 'I love you,' back in the days before we said those words so easily."

"I can't imagine being filled with so much talent that I could just…" Jon begins, voice laden with unexpected emotional fragility.

Martin continues for him, "Paint the way you love someone?"

They don't notice, but Gerry actually blushes, hot embarrassment and pleasure filling him in equal parts. His voice is smooth and clear, mercifully, as he starts his explanation.

“Martin, yours is that moment of dawn breaking, out somewhere that there are no other people. Maybe you feel alone, but you never feel lonely, because the sun is rising and it reminds you that the world always moves at its own rhythm. Like sometimes I haven't seen you in a while but I walk into the bookstore or you come through the door, and your smile fills my heart, as steady and unchanging as the rise and fall of the sun in the sky.”

The painting in question rather does convey that feeling, a foggy moor stretching towards a tree-lined horizon, dawn breaking and bringing light and warmth to the cool edges of the space. Darkness sits in the corners, but it only serves to enhance the light, drawing the eye towards the sweet sunrise.

Gerry continues, this time focusing on the darker painting, an intricate stained glass window refracting down, colourful light filling a room with books stacked haphazardly everywhere. “Jon, yours represents what it’s like to try navigating our relationship together. The books are not sorted or organized and they can be tricky to understand, but the comfort and ease of that familiarity can still fill me with peace in the most unexpected moments. The light is colourful and ever-changing, both a familiarity and yet always shifting to suit our moods and seasons together.”

"Constant, but never the same," Jon whispers in return, and Gerry is pleased to hear he knows the feeling.

They simply sit with each other a moment, the sheer scope of their emotions filling them up with warmth and a sort of profound understanding that just doesn’t come from simple words. It’s a gesture as wild and unexpected as Gerry himself, and Jon and Martin bask in it.

“They're breathtaking, love.” Martin declares, turning to him. “It's a pity they're sold. I suppose we couldn't afford them anyway, but I wish I could buy them.”

Gerry grins, pleased. “They were never for sale. They're only here to be displayed. They're gifts. I was hoping- that is, I hope you and Jon will accept them. I painted them to go in your studies in the loft.”

“They're for us?” Jon murmurs incredulously.

“Yes, as a way for me to express just how much I adore you both,” Gerry confirms, giggling a bit at his own words. “How could I pour so much love into paintings, and let them live with anyone else?”

“I’m glad you couldn’t because I love them so much,” Martin tells him earnestly.

“I feel the same,” Jon adds, voice gentle.

“They’re- They’re the best things I've ever made. I’m so glad you like them.” Gerry whispers, surprised to find himself overcome with a hot swell of emotion.

They continue to sit together, hands tangled, lives knit together. Hope and certainty, two emotions none of them have ever been allowed to indulge in, blanket around them, cementing this moment forever.