#That ribcage kind of just made me mad lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

august-anon · 3 years ago

Note

Here's a dialogue prompt if you want it... "More please?" with ler!Kravitz and lee!Taako?

I did not really edit this, please be gentle with me lol. Thank you for being so patient, I hope it was worth the wait! Thank you so much for the prompt!

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Ask and Receive

Fandom: The Adventure Zone

Ship(s): Taakitz

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Taako/Ler!Kravitz

Word Count: 1631 words

Summary: Kravitz is a bit too smart for Taako's own good. Taako should know by now that he can't keep secrets from Kravitz.

[ao3 link]

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It wasn’t fair how smart Kravitz was, in Taako’s extremely humble opinion.

It seemed like he could see through anything and everything. He had managed to dig up almost all of Taako’s secrets and slip through all his lies, white or not, and he had done it with such grace and gentleness that Taako couldn’t even be mad at him. In fact, it was almost disgustingly romantic, how he could see past Taako’s walls so easily.

But there were still a few secrets Taako held closely to his chest. A few secrets from their hundred years of plane-hopping, a few secrets he promised friends he’d keep (and as much of an asshole Taako knew he was, he kept his promises), and a few secrets of his own that he couldn’t bear to part with just yet.

Most of which were just painfully silly.

And one of which, Taako was beginning to think was more trouble than it was worth to keep.

A guy had cravings, after all. Cravings that Kravitz could easily solve with a few wiggling fingers and a handful of teasing words, or vice versa on some days. And it wasn’t like Kravitz had never tickled him, or that he had never tickled Kravitz, but it was always painfully brief. It left him feeling more starved than if he hadn’t had the playful contact at all.

But Taako was nothing if not prideful. There was nothing that would get him to admit it.

Well, almost nothing.

Because Kravitz was smart, as previously stated, and unfairly so. Kravitz picked up on Taako’s behavior. Kravitz was good at learning what made Taako tick. It was only natural that Kravitz would pick up on his little quirk eventually, try as he might to hide it.

So when Kravitz pulled back from his most recent tickle-attack (that Taako may or may not have deliberately provoked him into), eyeing Taako with a calculating look, Taako knew he was in trouble.

“I’m not so sure I should reward you for bad behavior,” Kravitz said.

Taako swallowed insteading of jumping straight into his defense, trying to keep himself from stuttering nervously. “Reward? You think that torture is a reward?” He asked.

Kravitz frowned, though there was a glint in his eye and one of his dimples was jumping. “I suppose I read your reactions wrong, then. Though, if it really is torture for you, I won’t do it anymore. I’ll have to find another playful punishment for you.”

A wounded noise escaped Taako before he could contain it. He slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide, and felt his cheeks flush. Kravitz looked down at him and raised an eyebrow.

“That is what you want, isn’t it, Taako?” He said. “I wouldn’t want to torture you.”

Taako pressed his lips together in a thin line, huffing through his nose. He had just dug his own grave. Now he had two options: tell Kravitz the truth, or live the rest of his days under this lie and never get tickled by his boyfriend again.

And oh, how he wanted to be tickled by Kravitz. He had musician’s fingers, long and nimble. They could do wicked things to Taako, things that he spent hours daydreaming about. Taako watched as they tapped in a staccato rhythm against Kravitz’s knee, teasing and tempting. Kravitz knew exactly what he was doing.

But Taako was a stubborn elf. If his secret was going to be out, it was going to be out on his terms. He would not blush at Kravitz’s teasing. He was not giving in. It was simply… time to show his hand, so to speak. So Taako jutted out his chin, defiant and proud in the falsest of ways, and refused to hide behind his hands as he so desperately wanted to. He let his fingers twist into his skirt, the only outward sign of his anxiety, to keep his hands firmly in his lap.

“I don’t hate it,” Taako eventually managed to force out.

Kravitz raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So you lied to me?”

Taako bit his lip. “Just a little.”

Kravitz crossed his arms, eyebrow still infuriatingly raised. “I’m not sure I should reward you for that behavior, either.”

Taako deflated, slumping into the couch and whining. He finally gave in, bringing his hands up to cover his flushing face, though he knew his red ears would give him away. He heard Kravitz chuckle and he curled into himself even further.

“Oh, come now, dear, don’t be like that. Maybe if you ask nicely, you’ll get what you want.”

Taako groaned and slipped further down the couch. He felt Kravitz shift on the couch, and Taako assumed he had turned toward Taako expectantly. Taako swallowed his pride.

“More, please?”

“More what, dear?”

Taako’s hands flew off his face. “Goddammit, Krav, just tickle me!”

Kravitz huffed. “I should make you ask nicely, but…”

Before Taako could process it, Kravitz had pulled his legs up so he was lying lengthwise on the couch and straddled his lap to pin him. Taako yelped and raised his hands in defense, but Kravitz quickly grabbed them and pulled them off to the side, out of the way. Taako’s eyes went wide as he gazed up at Kravitz.

Kravitz smirked. “Now that we’re past that stage of things, why don’t you tell me where you’d like to be tickled?”

Taako choked, his eyes practically bulging out of his head. Kravitz’s smirk stretched into a grin and a shiver went down Taako’s spine.

“Well? I can’t tickle you unless you tell me.”

Taako desperately wished he could cover his face. His ears flicked in embarrassment as he wiggled and squirmed under Kravitz, tugging on his captive arms. He had no escape.

Then again, he did ask for this.

“Stomach?” He practically whispered.

Kravitz’s free hand immediately travelled to his belly, untucking his shirt and slipping under it without hesitation. Taako was squealing before Kravitz’s hand even touched down. His body jolted when Kravitz started scratching at his stomach, his struggling and tugging on his arms getting even more weak.

Taako was a wizard, okay. He couldn’t be expected to break out of Kravitz’s grip, and especially not under these circumstances.

“You’re adorable like this,” Kravitz said over his laughter. “I don’t know why you tried to hide it for so long.”

Taako wanted to tell Kravitz to shut up, but he was sure that would earn him another bout of I shouldn’t reward you for that, so he wisely kept his mouth shut. Metaphorically, at least. Physically, his mouth was open in a bright, giggly grin, and he had no hope of keeping it shut any time soon.

Taako half-wished he could roll off the edge of the couch, but Kravitz’s legs kept him firmly in place. He writhed like a worm under the single hand Kravitz had on his stomach, the touch just dancing along the line of “too light.” The sparky, zinging sensations could be delicious in their own way, of course, but they were a very specific kind of torture, and Taako wasn’t sure if he could handle that on top of all the teasing. Then, Kravitz’s touch lightened even further as he wiggled his fingers against Taako’s lower belly, and Taako arched his back with a high-pitched squeal.

“No no no!” Taako squealed, kicking his legs. “Please, please!”

Kravitz laughed above him. “What? I thought you wanted this!”

“Too light!” Taako cried out.

Kravitz laughed again, only lightening his touch further. “What, dear? Can’t take it?”

Taako’s giggles were frantic and bubbly and borderline hysterical. It was absolutely wonderful, but he could hardly stand it. He felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin with how badly it tickled.

“More, please!” Taako shrieked, barely capable of words with all the sensations zinging around in his brain.

“Since you asked so nicely,” Kravitz said. “Pick a new spot.”

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), Taako’s brain was beyond fried and distracted. Stupidly, he couldn’t help but blurt out his worst weakness.

“Ribs!”

Taako went from bubbly giggles to shrieking cackles in a matter of seconds. He arched his back, trying instinctively to buck Kravitz off of him with no success. Not that he necessarily wanted to succeed.

Kravitz’s blunt nails scratched against each rib on one side, while his fingers gently vibrated in between them on the other. The conflicting sensations wreaked havoc on Taako’s nerves. Tears of mirth sprung to Taako’s eyes as he cackled and he tugged fruitlessly on his arms to try and pin them to his sides.

“How’s that?” Kravitz asked, and though his tone was teasing, Taako knew he meant the question genuinely.

Taako could only nod in response. It was perfect. It sated the hunger that had been under his skin for so long, and Taako could practically feel the sparks of joy shooting through his chest. Or maybe that was just the ticklish jolts consuming his entire ribcage.

It was a few more long minutes before Kravitz slowed his fingers, releasing Taako’s wrists to reach up and wipe away his laughter-induced tears while his other hand continued gently skittering around his torso. The light tickling wasn’t quite so unbearable this time, at least not as a cool-down. If he kept at it for too long, Taako was sure he’d be squirming and begging again in no time.

“How are you doing?” Kravitz asked, and Taako opened his eyes to see Kravitz’s large grin.

Taako took a few deep breaths before saying, “More, please?”

Kravitz tossed his head back with a laugh before leaning down to press a quick kiss against Taako’s giggling lips.

“Where to next?”

Taako had a lot more spots in mind before he’d be ready for Kravitz to stop.

#tickle fic #my writing #taz tickling #taz:b tickling #lee!taako #ler!kravitz #ticklish!taako #taz #taz:b #Taako Taaco #taz kravitz #taakitz

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stilemawillow · 4 years ago

Note

Thank you for replying :') I'm not sure if you have rules for requests? But if this is okay with you, can I request some Levi x reader when one of them does something embarrassing but cute? Crack! Thank you wuuuuvs 🥺

yes, i do take requests but i do them slowly so sorry for that, i typed down a short drabble (1.6k words, kind of got out of hand lol), hope you still like it. also i was brainstorming the embarrassing but cute thing for like ten minutes, i completely blanked lol

............................................................................

It was late, the Survey Corps had had a celebratory gathering in honour of their last remotely successful mission - if nothing else in regards to the few casualties. The cadets were awarded some time off and a bigger meal than usual and the superiors had waited for them to depart so they could spoil themselves with a bit of their alcohol reserve.

The Commander hadn’t set a curfew for them but many left after a glass or two, too tired to stay and knowing they’d still have work the next day. The others - meaning (Y/N), Hanji and Nanaba - were having fun, being loud and, as all three would say - living life to their best. The only left was Levi Ackerman, who stayed in the beginning and spend just a little time with the females before deciding to spare his eardrums some of the raucous torture.

He’d gone on a walk around the HQ to let the pleasant warmth of the alcohol in the crevice of his ribcage fade. He’d always had a high tolerance, thus why drinking was a complete waste of time to him - he’d drain the whole reserve in order to feel anything out of the ordinary or, as Hanji and (Y/N) often described - a disconnection between his brain and body so strong he acted on nothing but his instincts.

The clock was pointing at one past midnight and he was sure there was anybody awake but him. He decided, since he doubted sleep would come to him tonight, to pass by the mess hall to make himself a cup of tea and clean up after the loud drunkards in the meantime.

Except the mess hall still had one inhabitant, in the face of Squad Leader (Y/N) (L/N), or, to Levi, the human embodiment of weird. She’d been his comrade for about five years now and were considered close; she’d made it a point to breach his walls like a firing cannon and he’d struggled to fight her off for a while but he didn’t hate her completely - never had and never thought he would - and so he let her in eventually. Their relationship was simple and platonic, maintain the opposite as Hanji might.

Levi and (Y/N) regarded it as exchanging favours, with silence on his side and loud persistence on hers to make up for it. There was understanding too. He’d often fancied the idea of murdering Hanji in cold blood for pointing out a bit too much his habitual proclivity to let (Y/N) touch him and sometimes, touch her back. She was somebody who didn’t mind rumours and didn’t find use in wasting her energy debunking them, so there had been an established routine between them - she could touch him when nobody was looking. The routine was set in stone around the time she found out he didn’t scream at her too much when she did it in front of others too.

Tonight, (Y/N)’s drinking had gotten a bit out of hand, because she was leaning against one of the tables, cursing at an empty bottle and swaying just a bit. Levi approached her and had just cleared his throat when her shoulders jumped and she almost tripped when turning to look at him.

“Can you even get to your room in this condition?” His question was reasonable but what he didn’t know was that she didn’t have the mental capacity to process it. Or him.

“’m in perrrrfect condition. I can go to the moon too.” Her eyes were narrowed and the gaze in them - foggy. Levi gave a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, then, pointedly as he could, reached out a hand to grab and stabilise her. “Ew, don’t touch me!” She slapped his fingers before they could even grab her, then he was left to blink at her disgusted expression.

“Come, we have to get you to bed.” He was talking boredly, like a grown person explaining 1+1 to a child. Her brows furrowed and she moved away from him but the look in her eyes didn’t clear up.

“Bed? You want me in bed? Well, I say no because I don’t want bed and you. I want somebody else. So fuck off and leave me alone.” She’d royally cussed him out and he’d almost gotten tired of her bullshit when she reached for the empty bottle of the table and began sadly scrutinising the few drops inside. After gulping them down, she decided it would be best to sit down and Levi, in turn, concluded he wouldn’t get his peace of mind if he didn’t force her into her room.

“I’m not leaving you alone because you’ll get hurt. Now come along.” He grabbed her arm and forced her off her ass, to which she frantically tried to shake his hold in vain. Once they were face to face, he felt she might just spit at him with how angry she looked and all.

“I tol’ you not to touch me!” She was hitting him across the chest and he was rolling his eyes at her antics - though he had no idea why she was acting like this now. He hadn’t seen her this drunk anyway. Hanji and Nanaba always took care of her when she was. And they always shared weird looks the morning after.

“You’re usually the one touching me.” His comment made her expression contort in confusion, like the idea of physical touch existing between them was unfathomable to her brain.

“Who? Me? Excuse you, I don’t---” She hiccuped and he was pulling her along - and he, very briefly thought that cute. “I touch only Levi. Because I like him.” His brows furrowed - this was a sudden confession, but so had been the first one. He was well aware (Y/N) held romantic feelings for him and she was well aware he returned them, except, he hadn’t reacted well to the idea of a relationship and they’d kept it down to being close friends instead.

“I like you too.” It was blurted out and composed, just a bit exasperated. She wasn’t telling him anything new but he was curious as to what had even made her do it tonight. And he thought, ever so optimistically, she might just not remember him saying it back the next morning - as he’d never worded it this straightforwardly.

“Why are you sayin’ ‘ too’? I’m not confessing to you and I don’t like you, I like Levi Ackerman, as in Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, as in the fucking love of my life.” She was tugging him back, or at least trying to since it wasn’t working and he kept dragging her down the hallway to the stairs. Her words were what made him halt. He was holding her and she’d told him he was the love of her life - now that was new - and she was talking like... he was a stranger.

“So who am I again?” His inquiry made her brows furrow, she snorted and hiccuped once more - he forced himself not to be distracted by that and the annoyingly cute way in which her nose was scrunched up in disgruntlement.

“From where the hell should I know? You’re a shady guy who keeps touching me and trying to get me in bed. Sorry, bud, not workin’. The only guy I’ll be beddin’ isn’t here right now.” She tugged on his arm once more, then he suggested that they went to him instead and she was quite pleased to hear that. “Or I could go m’self.” Her suggestion was followed by a sneeze, then she was rubbing her arm after he’d let go of it with a condescending look on his face. “You might not be aware but Levi’s tol’ me he likes me too and if he sees you tryin’ to abduct me he might just get angry and kick your face off.”

“I’d like to see that happen.” He was almost smirking at the index finger she was pointing in his direction, almost about to jab straight into his chest. She was frowning, ever so mighty whilst declaring that he - the man standing before her - would come along and beat himself up because she was so fucking wasted she couldn’t recognise him. Talk about disconnection between brain and body.

“If you don’t keep your han’s off me, it might. I’ll just call for him. He’ll beat you to a pulp.” Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and she was pouting now, mad but not that much and he was watching her recklessly trip on her way up the stairs. He gave her twenty minutes and made bets on whether she’d reach his room at all or not and lost when she was seen nowhere along the hallway passed out or whining.

She was snoring on his bed already and he took his time discarding her jacket and boots, then his own prior to entering his office and getting to work with one of the reports he had to write. It took him three hours to finally yawn, he joined (Y/N) on the bed and just barely rolled his eyes when she turned over in her sleep and began mumbling his name.

The morning after he woke up first and decided to enlighten her on the topic of what she’d done last night and why she’d woken up in his bed during breakfast. She went so red in the face it looked painful and Hanji, overhearing their conversation began laughing so hard she choked. Needless to say, (Y/N) gave up alcohol for a while and Levi made it a point to remind her why every time he caught her glancing longingly at the cellar. Not that he minded a confession from her once in a while, or those cute hiccups, or the simultaneous annoyance and amusement he felt at her inability to recognise him.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #reader insert #drabbles for anonies #kind of shit and kind of cringe but i guess it's the cliche people love so here you go #i could think of nothing else #also not exactly crack but idk #i'll leave that up to you to decide

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royalcalum · 4 years ago

Text

Must Love Dogs

Featuring: Calum x reader

Warnings: language, mentions of being catfished I guess... it’s just straight up fluff tbh

Summary: As an up-and-coming Twitch streamer, you’re used to befriending people online. When you start getting cozy enough with one fan for them to ask for a ride from the airport, you find out who you’ve really been talking to for six months.

Author’s Note: I’m going to try to start rewriting some old fics (mainly Calum tbh) to make them more realistic (lol as if this is realistic) and better in general so this is a rewrite of “blurb request lol 4/4 where you're whole relationship has been on the internet like you met on twitter or something and you finally meet at the airport after like five months idk this would be really cute and it's like my dream :----(“ Not beta’d

It started as an innocent fan and creator friendship. You’d been streaming on twitch for a while and had gained a decent sized following, averaging about 500 viewers per stream. Needless to say, your comments section was a little difficult to keep up with. But even with the quick scrolling of new comments with each statement you made, you noticed one name in particular whose comments were always funny or sweet instead of crude and vulgar, like some of those your mods were frequently deleting.

When that same username followed you on Twitter not long after you took notice of them, you were quick to follow back. You’d followed a few of your “fans” before, so it wasn’t unusual. Hell, it wasn’t even odd for you to DM back and forth with some of your followers. What was out of character was becoming attached to one of those fans.

All you knew was his first name (Calum), his age (24), and his location (LA) before you started talking regularly. He had asked for your number at one point, but was understanding when you said you don’t give out that kind of information. For you, it was a relief to finally talk to a man who not only enjoyed your streams, but didn’t make you feel objectified and demeaned. For him, it was a relief to finally meet someone who liked him instead of his name or money.

Communicating with him grew difficult when he flew to Australia to visit family. The time difference still gave you time to DM every day, but staying up late wasn’t quite the same when it was just afternoon for him. You’d already spent five months talking to him and as much as you hated admitting it, you had started to care for this mystery man despite never seeing his face. That never stopped you before (Corpse, anyone?), but for all you knew, “Calum, 24, California” was actually “Craig, 42, Alabama.”

When it came time for him to fly back to LA, you were surprised when he asked if you wanted to meet up when he got back. Like, right when he got back. As in “my friend can’t pick me up and I don’t want to ask you of all people to suffer through LAX traffic so I can just get an Uber if I need to but it’d also be nice to finally meet if you could give me a ride from the airport,” back.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t apprehensive. He was technically still a stranger you met on the internet and you couldn’t guarantee he wasn’t going to overpower you, take your car, kidnap you, and murder you somewhere in the desert. But you took precautions and told your roommate and a couple other friends where you would be and when to expect you back. If things went well and you spent more time with Calum, you’d call them and tell them, no texting.

Two days later, you stood next to your car parked outside the baggage claim for his airline. You didn’t even know who to look for, but he knew what you looked like — obviously, since you met through your twitch stream.

As people started to flood out of the airport doors, you started to wonder if you had been duped. Would this be a story worthy of Nev and Max? Being led to an airport just to be stood up? More and more people left the terminal while you took up space with your car. You’d get a ticket if you didn’t leave soon — your car may be running but you were technically parked in the loading zone — and your anxiety just continued to grow. He wouldn’t lead you on for nearly six months and stand you up at LAX, of all places… right?

Just as you looked down at your phone again to let your roommate know you might be back sooner than expected, you heard your name called from a few feet away.

And when you looked up, you were starstruck.

“You motherfucker,” you laughed as he got closer. “You knew I was a fan from my stream! That’s why you didn’t want to FaceTime!”

He laughed with you and didn’t hesitate to pull you into a hug.

“It was fun getting to just talk to you,” he defended. “I didn’t want you to unintentionally treat me differently just because you like my band.”

It felt nice to not only meet him, but feel him. He held you tight against his chest, his arms circling your shoulders with yours around his waist. And his thick sweater gave you a soft cushion to rest your head against as you just held each other. You pulled back from his hug but kept your hands on his ribcage, his resting on the sides of your neck as you asked, “How did you end up on my stream?”

“Someone tweeted a clip of you singing one of our songs from an older stream so I decided to check you out. I thought you were pretty and fun so I came back for more.”

For a second, you just stared up at him in multiple stages of shock. This was Calum Hood. From your favorite band. He just hugged you. And called you pretty. How could you handle this?!

But you could handle this. Because he was also the guy you had been talking to for the past six months. The guy you stayed up late talking to and who sent supportive messages when your chat got too aggressive and told you stories from his childhood. You knew him. You just had to let yourself realize the man you’d grown to care about personally was also the man you cared about as a fan.

Holy shit.

“Are you okay?” he asked, sliding his hands down your neck and over your shoulders to your upper arms as he looked down at you with concern etched on his face.

“What? Oh, yeah. Sorry, it’s just taking me a second to really let this all sink in,” you admitted.

“Yeah, now that we’re here, I’m realizing I probably should’ve broken the news in a less, uh, spontaneous way,” he laughed nervously, dropping his hands from you and shoving them in his pockets instead.

You should’ve just kept your mouth shut to keep those hands on you. Or if luck was on your side, he’d have his hands all over you later.

“I mean, I’m not mad about it,” you shrugged. “It’s just not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?” he asked with a smirk.

You let out a sigh. “Honestly? I was kind of expecting to either be stood-up or meet a 42-year-old balding man from Alabama with a beer belly named Craig.”

“Wait… his beer belly is named Craig?”

“No, he is named Craig, you doof!” you laughed, gently shoving Calum’s arm.

“Well I’m sorry to disappoint,” he said with that same smirk on his lips.

“Oh believe me, I’m anything but disappointed,” you replied with a quirk of your own lips. “So, am I taking you to your place then?”

Calum started loading his luggage into the backseat of your car as he spoke to you. With only two checked bags and a carry-on, he didn’t have much, but clearly wouldn’t let you help as he hoisted everything in.

“Yes, please,” he said as he shut the car door. “As excited as I am to finally meet you, I really miss my dog.”

You gasped and immediately perked up. “Duke?!”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Do you want to meet him?”

“Oh my god, yes!” You ran around to the driver’s side and impatiently waited for Calum to get in and buckle his seatbelt before weaving through the waiting cars to get out of LAX. Fortunately, Calum got in on a late night flight so the traffic wasn’t as bad as you’ve seen before.

“I feel like you’re more excited to meet my dog than you are to meet me,” Calum pouted from the passenger’s seat.

“As excited as I am to finally meet you,” you started with a direct quote, “I really love dogs.”

#Calum x reader #Calum hood x reader #Calum hood fluff #calum hood one shot

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years ago

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just the girl

request from nonnie!!! “Hello gorgeous! I love your writing! Could I please get a George one where the reader is younger(like harry) and she is kind of shy but George loves her and flirt with her but she thinks he is just messing with her?”

word count: 4.4k

pairing: george x hufflepuff fem!reader

A/N: okay i strayed a biiiiit and didn’t make her like suuuuper shy but i definitely made her oblivious and i hope that’s okay?? also, i’ve had “just the girl” by the click five stuck in my head whilst writing this so that’s where the title idea/end dialogue come from lol

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am | send me a quick message if you’d like to be added darlings!

The only thing to ever distract George Weasley from his schoolwork has been pranking and mischief; it’s always been that way, ever since he was born, with his twin by his side. But now, he thinks, watching you across the Great Hall after not having seen you due to a very long summer holiday, everything else might just need to be put on the back burner.

How had he never noticed you in this light before? A thought crosses his mind now: he’s been far too preoccupied with creating types of chaotic mischief across the castle. Maybe he needs to rethink his priorities a bit. It’s not that he’s never thought about girls: hell, he thinks about them nearly all the time. But not like this. He’s never been so captivated in his entire life.

Your smile is lighting up nearly the entire Hall; how everyone at every table isn’t staring at you is beyond him. George can hardly help himself; his eyes are glued to you. His friends notice this and someone punches him in the arm, earning a sharp yell and a glare from him.

“Ow,” he says through gritted teeth after coming back to reality. He groans at what’s coming. He then turns to Fred, who’s laughing a bit, and says, “You’re a right git, you know that?”

“Oi, go over there and talk to her, would you?” Fred suggests, making the entire group of rowdy Gryffindors roar with laughter, “or at least quit the staring—you’re making yourself rather obvious, you know.”

George feels his throat tighten as he sinks into his seat; next to him, Ron is giggling quietly into his cup of porridge. “Go with the latter, mate—stop looking at her, would you? Merlin! You’re going to frighten the poor girl.”

He feels his heart begin to pound a bit harder against his ribcage; he hates feeling nervous—probably more than he hates sitting through Potions class. He swallows thickly, turns to his sister and says quietly, “Oi, Gin, you and Luna are friendly with Y/N, right?”

Ginny looks up from her bowl of cereal and nods her head before shooting a cheeky grin at her brother.

“You’ve spent quite some time with her before then, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course,” Ginny replies, taking a swig of her drink, “but so have you, you git. She hangs out with us all the time. You’ve known one another since your third year.”

George frowns. “Yeah, but.. I don’t know her nearly as well as you. Always sort of gravitates toward you, doesn’t she? She’s sort of.. turned off by my pranks a little bit.”

“Then stop the pranking,” Ginny winks.

George lets out a scoff. “Right. D’you not know me but at all?”

“It’s not that she’s turned off, George,” Ginny tells him and he feels himself relax a bit. She scoops up some more cheerios onto her spoon, “her life just doesn’t revolve around pranking people. She’s sort of shy. But I promise, she gets a rise out of your mischief.”

“She does?”

Ginny rolls her eyes as she entertains the idea that her brother might quite possibly be in love.

“Yeah, she does, so—talk to her then, would you?” Ginny tells her brother, taking a long swig of her drink. “She’s on the Hufflepuff team this year! New Chaser, she is. There, already have something to chat about other than pranking, alright?”

You? Quidditch? Girl of his dreams, you are. That aspect excites him. What he’s afraid of, he thinks of now, is trying to get you to open up to him. Maybe it won’t be as difficult as he thinks, considering you’ve known one another for quite some time now. A smile tugs at the edges of his lips when he watches your head fall back as you laugh—a laugh he can’t hear, but wants too more than anything else.

If there’s one thing George Weasley loves, it’s a challenge.

— -

George is finding it quite difficult to spend any time with you, much to his dismay. Not only are you in a different house, but you’re two years younger which means you’ve got absolutely no classes together. He reckons that Herbology wouldn’t be as boring if you were in class with him. He frowns at the thought.

So when he sees you rounding the bend in the corridor one day after emerging from an afternoon Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, he immediately seizes his chance for a chat.

“Oi, Georgie!” Fred calls as George leaves him, Ron, Harry and Neville in his dust, “where’re you off to, then?”

“Sorry boys,” George calls back, winking, “Have got a few things to take care of—meet you later in the common room.”

He leans against the wall and watches you, a dazed sort of grin grows on his face when he notices that smile again. He feels a pang in his heart when he thinks of just how long it’s taken him to really notice it.

You meet his gaze and clutch your books tighter into your chest; when you pass him, he ignores a few other Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws by your side, acting as if you’re the only two in the corridor. “Hey, beautiful.”

You roll your eyes and can’t help but smile. “Hi, George,” you reply sweetly, not stopping to hold a conversation. He’s quick on his feet, though, and follows you down the other end of the hallway. He feels poorly for you when he notices that you’re headed for the dungeons. “Good summer holiday?”

“Pretty good—happy to be back, though. And you?”

You ignore his question and wiggle your eyebrows at him. “Not getting into any trouble already, are we?”

“Not currently, dunno about later.. too early to tell,” he smiles a bit smugly, tugging on your arm and pulling you back, leaving your friends walking toward the dungeons without you. You turn around, now face to face with him, and he’s leaning casually against the wall, his arms folded across his chest.

“Better be careful—I hear Snape’s just dying to give out detentions. In a right foul mood, he is.. and it’s only the first week.”

“Shame you’re heading to Potions, then.”

“Would much rather be out on the pitch, mind you.”

“Oh yeah,” George replies, suddenly remembering what Ginny had told him, “how’s it feel then? Heard you’re one of the new Chasers this year. Heard you’re pretty wicked.”

“Yeah?” you raise your eyebrows and George can’t help but feel his insides constrict at your glistening eyes. “What else have you heard?”

He laughs a bit, running a hand through his messy hair. “That Gryffindor’s got a run for their money now.”

“Glad to hear my skills are being spoken about so highly amongst the houses.”

George is loving this; you’re a lot less shy than he remembers—nothing at all like you were when you two first met. Maybe more has changed over the summer that he doesn’t know about yet. His heart’s thundering at the thought. “Don’t think for a second we’re going to take it easy on you.”

There it is—that laugh he’s been dying to hear. He’s nearly putty in your hands at the sound of it. Luckily, though, George is pretty good at hiding his skittishness and replacing it with a flirtatious grin or banter. He bites down on his lip to keep from grinning like mad when you say, “Do your worst then, George.”

The bell rings suddenly, making you both jump, signaling five minutes until the beginning of the next lesson. You raise your eyebrows and nod toward the dungeons, “Better get going. Don’t want the wrath of Snape upon me.” You grin a bit and walk backwards down the empty corridors and George is nearly losing it at how bloody adorable you are, “See you later?”

“Yeah,” he says, confidence engulfing him, “see you.”

He can’t help but shake his head in admiration when he watches you turn back around, sling your arm behind your back and wiggle a few fingers at him in a wave as you vanish down the staircase.

— -

“Hey—what the bloody hell was that all about this afternoon? Thought you two were supposed to cause some type of diversion on the fifth floor corridors after lunch? You were nowhere to be seen!”

Ron’s face turns sour as his elder twin brothers just laugh at this. To him, Fred replies, “Think of our mischief as being on.. a semi-hiatus. Few days, tops.”

“Merlin,” Ginny mutters, looking down at her shoes, “what did you two do already?”

“We didn’t do anything,” Fred tells his sister. He leans back into the couch and relaxes. “Georgie here has some other things he needs to take care of first.”

Harry and Ron make obnoxious sounding kissing noises; Ginny, on the other hand, just rolls her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re actually going after her.”

George raises his hands in confusion. “You’re the one who told me to go and talk to her more.”

“I didn’t think you were actually serious!”

“Ah well—should pay more attention to your older brother, then, shouldn’t you?” George asks, looking rather smug. He takes a long swig of his tea before placing his feet up on the table in front of him. “Besides, she’s a lot less shy than you seem to remember, Gin.”

Ginny rolls her eyes again, mutters something that slightly resembles a whatever, you git, and turns back to the book she’s clutching very tightly in her hands.

“So,” Ron begins again, turning his attention toward the twins, “Few days, you say?”

“Yes,” the twins chorus together. Fred continues, “Really, though, we’re trying to steer clear of Snape for the time being—bloke seems to show up wherever we go, he’s in a right awful mood and I, for one, don’t feel like starting out the new year with a weekend full of detentions under my belt.”

Under her breath, Ginny mutters, “because that’s so different than every other year?” George playfully chucks a throw pillow at her, and is delighted to see her finally chuckle a bit.

“What’s the plan then, George?” Harry asks, shuffling a deck of cards in his hands. “I reckon you’re going to take it easy on her now that she’s our opponent, yeah?”

The boys erupt in laughter, prompting Ginny to move to the other side of the common room to immerse herself in conversation with Hermione, Parvati, and Katie. To the group, George just replies, “Haven’t got a plan, really. Just going to try and wing it.”

— -

Harry lets out a huff, looking positively dreadful. He’s crouched down behind the twins at the entrance to the changing rooms and he says to the two of them, “This has got to be illegal, hasn’t it?”

“Nah—not illegal if we don’t get caught,” George winks, not taking his eyes off of the pitch.

“Relax, mate, it’s fine,” Fred says in a hushed whisper, “that’s why we’ve got the Invisibility Cloak. Merlin, Harry, it’s like you’ve never snuck out before.”

The twins laugh and Harry relaxes; sneaking out is nothing new to him.

They should be in the Great Hall, working on their assignments due for their lessons, but George had insisted on coming to spy on the competition. Fred nearly yelped at the idea; Harry needed some persuading. But honestly, George doesn’t care at all about the competition. He only cares about you.

He’s enamored at your Chasing skills—you’re a lot faster than he originally thought, getting the quaffle through the hoops each and every time. He’s feeling a bit nervous at how Gryffindor is going to bear with you and the other new Chaser and new Beater. It’s probably the best team Hufflepuff’s had in years.

“Eh, new Beater isn’t that good,” he hears Fred saying to him and Harry, but he’s not paying a lick of attention, “and they’ve still got the same Seeker as last year, and you know his weaknesses, Harry, so I reckon we should be alright.”

Everyone lands on the pitch with ease and heads right toward the changing rooms. George can’t help but notice the way the yellow color of your robes makes your eyes sparkle even more. Fred then says, “Ready to go then? Have got a massive Charms essay to finish up.”

But George ignores this; instead, he lifts the cloak from over him and is again visible to anyone in the surrounding area. He laughs at whispered yelps from both Fred and Harry, and he swears he hears a, If we’re caught I’m going to murder you, mate!

He frowns at this but continues to ignore it; adrenaline is coursing through his body like a rapid fire. He walks toward the group with his hands in his pockets, looking as if he’s just been out for a casual stroll, when once again, you meet his gaze.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

“Seeing you two times in one week?” you ask, placing a hand on your hip. “Aren’t I a lucky one.”

George smirks at you and wants nothing more than to sneak you into the Gryffindor common room later tonight. This scheme, he thinks, would definitely, probably, most certainly earn him detentions for weeks, if not months. “Well I may have heard you were out here, came to see you.”

“Is that so?”

“I just can’t help myself.”

“Not spying on us, are you, Georgie?”

“Spying? Never,” he replies gleefully. Making you laugh is just about his favorite thing. He nods toward the pitch, glad to see that the rest of the team has made it inside the changing rooms, leaving you two alone, “how’d practice go?”

“You Gryffindors better prepare—best lineup we’ve had in years. I daresay we might actually be able to get our hands on the cup.”

George laughs at this, not at all caring about the fact that if Fred had heard you say this, he’d nearly be up in arms at the thought of Gryffindor losing. George, however, doesn’t mind that much. Not if it means he’d get you in return. “I’d like to see you try.”

You release your hair from it’s ponytail and George cannot shake the feeling that he’s got something very sharp lodged in his throat. He clears it once, twice, three times before finally feeling it subside. You grin, elbow him playfully and say, “Don’t worry. I will.”

— -

Hogsmeade is absolutely swarmed with students, it being the first trip of the school year, and all. In fact, it’s so crowded, that George can hardly see through the sea of people. He follows his brothers into Honeydukes to pick up some much needed candy items before heading back to Hogwarts for the evening feast.

“I reckon you can never have too many chocolate wands,” Ron says brightly, pulling as many as he can off of the shelves. Quite a sweet tooth he has. Then he notices some caramel cobwebs and grabs a fistful of those, too.

“Ronald, leave room for dinner, would you?” Hermione teases him as he pays for his goodies; she then steals a wand out of his hand and bites into it, smiling giddily. Ron turns a bright shade of pink.

“Zonko’s next?” Fred asks the crowd, examining the sugar quill he’s just purchased. He then gingerly sticks it into his bag and heads toward the exit. “C’mon—we’ve got to get back soon and I’ve a lot I need to purchase still.”

And so everyone follows Fred from Honeydukes and back out onto the very crowded street. George is now losing all hope of spotting you, and Ginny’s been no help—when asked if you’d be here today, Ginny merely shrugged her shoulders, noting that she hadn’t been able to talk with you much recently due to your very different schedules as well as being in different houses. George huffs a bit and then freezes: he notices you, standing with two of your friends, in a line outside of Madam Puddifoot’s.

Harry notices this and slings an arm around George’s shoulders, “Mate, you’ve got to be kidding.”

“No self respecting bloke will step foot into Madam Puddifoot’s,” Ron chimes in, mouth full of chocolate. “I mean, it’s meant for couples who need to spend less time snogging and more time coming up for air.”

George agrees; he slams his hands in his pockets and keeps his eyes on you. Just the sight of the tea shop alone is making him cringe; of course he wants to be with you. But George Weasley isn��t much of a corny type of bloke, and he reckons you’re not that type of girl, either.

“Yeah, but she’s not with anyone, is she? A guy, I mean,” George tells them, shrugging them off and handing Fred his purchases. “Hang onto that for me, will you? Thanks. See you all back at the castle.”

As George nearly skips across the cobblestone, Fred shakes his head and throws his hands up in surrender. “Oh, yeah, sure thing—I’d be more than happy to carry all this junk for you, mate.”

George just ignores this; he can feel his heart begin to flutter when he watches you run your fingers over the spine of a notebook you’re holding—a new item from Scrivenshaft’s, he’s sure of it. He grins to himself before quietly stepping behind you, and gently taps you on the shoulder. “Didn’t take you for a Madam Puddifoot’s type.”

You whirl around, obviously a bit frightened by his sudden appearance. You bring a hand swiftly to your heart and say through some nervous laughter, “Blimey! You gave me a fright.” The two of you begin to laugh and George notices your two friends peering at you both before erupting into whispers. You turn back to him and shake your head as if to say, Ignore them, and continue on, “I reckon this is about the cheesiest place in all of Hogsmeade! But I have to admit—I’m a sucker for her tea.”

“So not here on a date, are you?”

“A date? Merlin, no! The reason I even step foot in this place, besides the tea, is to seemingly laugh at all of the couples in here—have you ever taken a peek around, George? Some of them are so clueless it’s actually painful.”

He’s nearly melting at your banter, and is surprisingly uplifted to hear that you’re not the type of girl who is looking to be all sickeningly sweet on a date in what’s been deemed as the most romantic spots for young couples. He reckons you’d much rather be throwing quaffles through hoops instead.

Suddenly, the door opens and a jingle signals the entrance of the next group—you, George, and your two friends. He raises his eyebrows and says, “Well let’s take a peek then, shall we?”

And it’s exactly as you’ve described, and exactly what he expects: couples, hardly drinking their tea, but instead peering lovingly into one another’s eyes as if in some type of hypnotized trance, or with their lips locked together without coming up for any air. You turn back to George, wiggle your eyebrows at him and begin to laugh, keeping your voice low. “What’d I tell you?”

“Merlin,” he replies breathlessly, spotting Seamus Finnegan tucked away in a corner with a Ravenclaw. “It’s worse than I thought.”

“Yeah, but—” you stop, handing him a cup of steaming hot liquid, “try the tea! It’s worth it alone to deal with all these people in love.” Your face turns sour at your own words, and you and George find yourself falling into laughter yet again. George swears he hears whispering from your two friends a few feet away.

“You’re right, it’s delicious,” he replies, not breaking your gaze, “and yeah, it’s… a bit much,” you giggle sweetly and turn to look at two young Slytherins attached at the hip, “but I reckon if you’re with the right person, it’s not so bad.”

A soft smile spreads itself across your face, and George can feel his insides go warm and gooey. “Oh yeah? Going soft on me?”

He sips his tea again lightly, poking you gently in the ribs. “With you? I just might be.”

— -

When George pops through the portrait hole that evening, a very smug grin plastered onto his face, it only takes the lot about five and a half seconds before bombarding him with questions and a bit of teasing.

“Oh lookout, there he is now—been snogging her in Puddifoot’s this whole time, have you?” Fred frowns and chucks a throw pillow at him, but George is quick and catches it.

“Nah, he couldn’t be, mate,” Ron tells Fred from the ground as he leans against the couch, “you’ve got to properly ask a girl out before getting to that level, and we know Georgie hasn’t gotten there yet, has he?” Raucous laughter echoes throughout the common room from him, Fred, and Harry.

“Leave George alone,” Hermione and Ginny scold together. Then Hermione continues, “Just because you three don’t know how to properly treat a woman—”

George stands up a little straighter. “Ah—cheers, Hermione.”

“So you’ve done it, then?”

“Reckon my dating life isn’t really any of your business, Ron,” George replies cheekily. He then quickly heads up to the boys dormitory, changes into comfortable clothes, and comes back down, only to climb back out through the portrait hole and into the corridors. “Hey, where’re you off too?” Ginny calls.

George ignores this; he jumps back out, not paying a lick of attention to the singing of the Fat Lady, and is delighted to see that you’re still standing there, leaning against the wall, picking at the sleeves of your sweater. You look up and grin; he’s beginning to feel those nerves again. “Ready?” you ask.

The two of you head straight for the pitch, now surely very dark—it’s almost after hours, but he doesn’t mind, and he’s happy that you don’t either. Whilst spending most of the afternoon making a mockery out of those couples in Puddifoot’s, you and George had fallen into an animated conversation revolving Quidditch, which seems to be a lot about what you two discuss these days.

You’re both hovering above the ground; the pitch is nearly completely black. George can only see you in the moonlight shining down on you both from the night sky. You say to him, blocking the goal posts, “Do your worst, Weasley.”

He’s not used to acting as Chaser, and you, a Keeper. But despite his ruddy awful tries at launching the quaffle through the goal posts, and your creative, albeit a bit dangerous, attempts at blocking these potential goals, you two still end up falling into a fit of hysterics and nearly falling off of your brooms. George could stay here for hours, into the dead of night, not a care in the world..

He feels his heart begin to race a bit and frowns at the sight of a few lights turning off within the castle. It’s evident to you both, now, that it’s far past curfew, and if Snape catches you both out here, you’re done for. Without saying anything, the both of you land on the grass and slowly make your way back toward the castle. “I reckon Keeper is definitely not on my list of Quidditch skills,” you tell him, laughing lightly.

He shrugs and grins at you, “You’re better than you think you are.”

“I should play with you more often—full of compliments, you are.”

“Can you blame me? I just—you’re kind of brilliant—”

“Oooh,” you say a bit teasingly, jabbing him in the ribs, “you about to confess your love for me, or something?”

He just smiles.

A bit taken aback, you ask skittishly, “A-are you?”

His grin deepens at your flustered words. “Well, yeah, I am.” he says plainly, as if it’s obvious.

Your eyes dart back and forth between him and the castle. It’s obvious to him that you’re feeling a bit nervous now. “Are you serious?”

George laughs haughtily, placing his broom down on the ground as he inches closer to you. “Haven’t I been making myself obvious?”

“I—I mean,” you stammer, tripping over your words as if the sight of him is making you tongue tied. There she is, he thinks. Shy, sweet girl you’ve always been. “You’ve.. you’ve always been flirty! I kind of just thought it was a joke?”

He pretends to fall back dramatically, and is delighted to hear you laugh a bit. “That hurts, Y/N, I was kind of hoping you’d be able to tell that I’m mad for you.”

A grin tugs at your lips, and George feels his nerves begin to subside at the dazed look on your face. “Soooo, you weren’t joking?”

“I’m always joking, love,” he says playfully, now just centimeters from you, and he snakes an arm around your waist, “just not about this.”

You swallow thickly, and now he’s leaning in. His voice is nearly a whisper.

“If you want me to stop—”

“Don’t stop,” you tell him breathlessly.

When his lips touch yours, he feels a chill declare war on his bones; it’s as if all of the adrenaline in the world is surging through his body at this exact moment. He’s quite sure he’s short-circuited, and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as your fingers creep gently across his shoulder blades and into his hair. It’s slow and tender and soft, the way first kisses should be, the way he’s been imagining it.

Both of you pull away gently, and he hovers for a moment and smiles before pulling away fully. Your arms are still draped over his shoulders and his hands tighten around your hips; he’s definitely not going to sleep tonight, not after this, and he fully plans on going to class in the morning with some kind of hangover. “It’s crazy how you went from being just some girl—”

You grin lazily and he feels as though he’s about to spontaneously combust.

“Now you’re just the girl,”

You roll your eyes at this. “Ugh, has Madam Puddifoot’s made you corny, now?”

“Nah, it’s you,” he replies, pressing his forehead to yours, “you just bring out this side of me.”

You shoot a smug smile his way. “Hmm,” you begin, pausing to consider the conversation and think for a moment. You blink a few times, and he’s a right mess at the feeling of your eyelashes brushing his cheekbones, “can’t believe the effect I have on you. Can’t bloody wait for our match then, huh? Try not to get so flustered, Georgie.”

He grins against your lips and before kissing you fully again, he says, “Can’t make any promises, love.”

reblogs & feedback are always appreciated, thank you for reading and requesting loves x

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hollyxqx · 4 years ago

Text

LOVER, LEAVER // JIMIN // 05

↪ PAIRING: Reader/Park Jimin (initially reader/Jungkook) ↪ SUMMARY: There’s only so much cheating you can take from your boyfriend when he’s on tour before you take matters in to your own hands. ↪ WORD COUNT: 8.3k

↪ WARNINGS: mentions of addiction/drugs, alcohol abuse, there’s FLUFF people can you believe it, jimin is a slight rich bitch in this lol, a baby is born, slight smut

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | FINAL

Jimin very kindly and patiently lets you vent your concerns about Jungkook to him. You know you're rambling, you know it's not Jimin's duty to listen to fret over your ex-boyfriend but he does anyway, and without complaint. Jimin merely holds you tightly, nodding and offering encouraging agreement when needed. He cares about Jungkook too and you know your worries are shared.

Your eyes spill with tears and he wipes them away without question. How are you so lucky to have someone as understanding as him? Jimin doesn't protest or tell you to stop; instead he tells you he appreciates how compassionate you are. When you're finished with your tirade you thank him over and over again until he shushes you with a kiss.

The sofa you're curled up on with him creaks as he stands, reluctantly pulling away from you. He returns after a few moments with some tea for you both and it's so kind it makes your heart ache. You accept it from him with a mumbled thank you.

Taehyung, a former stranger turned roommate of three days, enters your apartment as you set your cup back down. Jimin peers over his shoulder as Taehyung removes his outdoor clothing and shoes. He stiffens beside you. The arrangement is still new and you can sense there is something going on inside Jimin's head. Taehyung waves and shouts hello to you both upon seeing on the sofa before disappearing inside the kitchen.

Taehyung is a video editor for a local news station and works absurd hours, you've noticed. In the short time you've lived together your paths have only crossed a handful of times.

You return his greeting with feigned cheerfulness and look back to Jimin, his lips press together in a stern line. "What?" You ask, sensing his hesitancy. To your confusion, he looks uncomfortable.

"Nothing." He shakes his head dismissively and looks away. His own tea is still untouched.

"Wanna stay over tonight?" You ask after another sip of tea. Jimin nods, eyes anywhere but you.

Jimin heads straight for your bedroom after that, obviously expecting you to follow. It's late and he wants to retire to bed you assume. However you head in to the kitchen to catch up with your new house mate. Taehyung is nice, thoughtful and so far, a good person to share a living space with. Although the only other boy you've ever lived with was Jungkook so you don't have much room for comparison.

"How was work?" You ask casually, leaning against the doorframe. Taehyung eats like a horse and he's already biting into a cereal bar whilst stacking a mountain of ingredients atop the counter.

"Good!" He mumbles, catching some of the food that spills out of his mouth as he tries to smile. He swallows. "How are you?"

"Fine. Jimin's here by the way. Do you mind if he stays overnight?" You ask. Jimin has never stayed over while Taehyung has been home and you don't want to be disrespectful.

"He's your boyfriend of course not." Taehyung shrugs, kicking the fridge shut with his foot. You eye his potential meal and wonder how he remains so slim. He must work out a ton. "I've got noise cancelling headphones." He flashes you a boxy grin over his shoulder as he begins to prep his food.

"He's not my - He's not..." You stammer quietly, blushing at the comment. Jimin and you have made nothing official. If Taehyung senses your awkwardness he says nothing. "We're not animals Taehyung, we'll be quiet. I just wanted to give you a heads up."

"Appreciate it, roomie. You guys heading to bed? Can I watch the big TV?" He asks.

"It's all yours roomie." You laugh a little. "Goodnight."

Taehyung bids you goodnight and you head to your own bedroom, where Jimin is waiting. When you enter inside he's standing with his back to you, shirtless as he undoes his belt. The sound of the door opening he doesn't even turn to face you, merely continues getting ready for bed.

"Just wanted to let Tae know you're spending the night." You murmur as you pace over, ghosting a gentle hand against his skin.

"Oh, ok." He responds quietly.

"I'm working tomorrow, so we're going to have to get up early." You sigh.

"That's fine."

"Can I wear this to bed?" You ask hopefully, picking up Jimin's discarded tee. It smells like his cologne, it's comforting. He nods. You notice he's still acting rather stiff and unusual but you're not sure why. "Thanks Jiminie."

He slips under the duvet first, while you crawl in behind him, wearing nothing but his shirt and a thong. He lies on his back, one arm behind his head. You reach across him to flick the bedside lamp off. Even in the moonlight you can see a worried expression twisting his beautiful features.

"There's something on your mind." You state, just above a whisper. You rest your head against his warm chest and loosely throw and arm across his waist. Normally he'd nuzzle into you but his position remains unchanged.

"It's nothing." You're not sure if he even convinces himself, voice thick and quiet, something heavy underlying his words.

"You can talk to me, about anything." You assure. There's a palpable tension weighing in the room as Jimin hesitates. You can feel the tension in his body, muscles constricting slightly underneath you. He inhales as if he's about to speak but lets out a long breath instead. "Is it Jungkook? Have I been going on too much about him?"

"No." Jimin is quick to firmly interject. "No." He repeats, softer. "It's Taehyung."

Surely you hear him incorrectly. "Taehyung?" You repeat incredulously, propping yourself up to see his face, hoping this is some kind of joke. It's so absurd you almost want to laugh.

He looks at you with a frown. "Yes. It's stupid. It's nothing. Nevermind."

You soften at his words. "Your feelings are not nothing to me, Jimin."

He runs a distressed hand through his long locks. "I'm being jealous and irrational. I hate it."

"Of Taehyung? Why does Tae of all people make you jealous? I just sat and cried about my ex boyfriend to you!" You tease, hoping to at least coax a little smile from him. It doesn't work.

"Well, look how me and you got started..." He trails off, almost if he knows how awful that thought is to voice aloud.

"Jimin," You're wounded, a visceral sting within your ribcage. "Don't throw that in my face. That's not fair."

“I’m sorry! That came out weird.” He groans, frustrated at the sight of your hurt expression.

“You don’t trust me.” You point out.

He shakes his head. “I do. I told you I’m being irrational.”

“Then what’s the big deal with Taehyung?! Tell me and I can make you feel better. There is literally zero reason to feel jealousy towards my roommate.”

He seems reluctant to explain, dragging his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes locked with yours. “I know how this story ends.” He sighs. You raise a brow at him. “He’s a nice guy, you’re a nice girl. You’ll get really close, you’ll hang out all the time since you live together, then one day you and I will have a big argument, and who will be around to pick up the pieces? Taehyung.”

“- Jimin,”

“ - Who are you going to bitch about me to when you’re mad? Taehyung. He’s single right? What will stop him from making a move on you? And if you’re mad at me you might let him. Look what happened with -” He cuts himself short but you both know the word ‘Jungkook’ was about to slip out.

He looks away guiltily.

You nod quietly absorbing the information. It’s understandable, albeit borderline crazy, that Jimin feels this way. He’s not perfect, he has insecurities like everyone else but there’s two things you have gathered from this conversation. One; Jimin is a lot more sensitive than you first thought and two; he isn’t as easy going about Jungkook as he appears.

“I understand why you would think that.” You want to be assuring but your voice sounds so small. You know there is no real defence for your infidelity. Jimin looks worried, anticipating what you’ll say next. “I do think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself, I’ll be honest.”

“I know. I’m just scared.” He admits.

That takes you by surprise. “Scared of what?”

“Of losing you. Again.”

“Again?”

“This is so embarrassing,” He laughs a little but it’s humourless. “All I do is make myself look more pathetic huh? It’s no secret I’ve liked you since the day we met.”

“That doesn’t make you pathetic, jiminie.” You squeeze his hand affectionately. “It’s sweet.”

“But I’d lost you to Kook, and then when I finally had you, even though it wasn’t how I imagined, you told me you didn’t want me.”

“That’s not strictly true.” You chastise.

“You know what I mean.” He reaches out to cup your face, a delicate thumb rests on the apples of your cheek. “Things are going well now. I don’t want a repeat of history.”

“I would never do anything behind your back. You’re not Jungkook, and I’m not that person anymore.” Your words are firm, because they’re true and you mean them wholeheartedly.

“If you’re not happy. Ever, about anything, tell me.” Jimin murmurs as he pulls you close for a kiss.

“I promise I will. It’s different this time,” You whisper against his lips.

***

From: Kim Namjoon Hoseok found Jungkook. He’s fine, unhurt, just drunk and kind of emotional. He’s holing up @ Hoseok’s place until the trial date.

No news is definitely not good news when it comes to Jungkook, so even though this information is hard to hear you’re glad he is at least safe. Hoseok has always been the most responsible one out of Jungkook’s circle of friends. You know he’s likely there against his will but maybe thats for the best.

From: Y/N Thank you for letting me know. Namjoon be really careful, he’s probably going to be having withdrawal. He’s been shooting up. I don’t know what but keep his phone away from him and make sure Hoseok has his doctor’s number.

From: Kim Namjoon I know. I noticed the track marks too. Ill tell hoeseok and keep you updated.

Your head is pounding as you flop back against the pillow, tossing your phone somewhere on the bed. Jimin is sleeping soundly beside you and you wish to join him again but you know your alarm is going to ring in thirty minutes anyway. You doubt you’d get much rest in that time.

The early hours of the morning are always where you do your best overthinking. You wonder if Jungkook would have ended up on this path if it wasn’t for you. It’s likely. Maybe you just accelerated it. Maybe his lifestyle is the real culprit here. Maybe it was his fate all along.

As you stare blankly into the blue early morning hue of the room all you can hope is that this will be a turning point for everyone, especially Jungkook.

***

It’s on what you anticipate to be a regular boring Thursday when you receive two shocking pieces of news, almost within a few minutes of one another.

Firstly, the most recent job interview you had attended (for a role that seemed too good to be true, but Jimin convinced you to go anyway and on shaky, unprepared legs you went.) had left a very eager voicemail for you while you’d been waiting tables. Your hands shook as you played and replayed the message. You almost thought you were imagining the praise they were giving you.

They wanted you. Not for the role you initially applied for but as an assistant to one of their mid level designers. It was probably better for you anyway and you returned the call to accept the offer immediately.

The second call comes from Namjoon of all people and it’s with your heart thundering in your chest you answer, fearing the worst.

His voice is equal parts breathless and terrified, as if he’s walking very quickly somewhere. After getting him to slow down eventually you’re able to understand the message he’s trying to convey. Hyerin is in labour. It’s still a week and a half before her due date so the news definitely comes as a surprise.

You let out a long sigh of relief. It’s happy news.

He informs you that it’s still early stages, they’re at the hospital however so you know the baby is going to be here soon. It feels surreal and you’re not even the person who is going to be a parent in a few hours. Namjoon promises to call you as soon as he can (Hyerin’s request) and you shoo him off the phone so you can call Jimin.

“It’s been a wild day and it’s not even lunchtime yet.” Jimin laughs once you relay the news. “I’m so happy for you butterfly. You’ve worked so hard.”

You can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face at his sincerity. “Wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.” And that’s the truth.

***

Jimin arranges a celebratory dinner in your honour later that evening. He implores you to wear something nice and you can hear the glint of mischief in his voice. “Promise me nothing too upmarket or expensive Jimin.” You warn but he just laughs and assures you be ready for him to pick you up later.

You slip on a nice dress that’s slit dangerously high up on your thigh and some heels, a lot more chic than you normally would wear for a date with Jimin. His initial reaction when you swing open the front door makes you feel beautiful.

He looks dapper himself, dressed in an extremely well tailored suit, the top few buttons exposing the jewellery around his neck. He looks every bit the successful artist he is.

Several times in the car you ask him where he’s taking you but Jimin remains coy and cryptic, shushing you with a knowing smile. You’re paying attention to the route he’s taking but you’re unfamiliar with the area you’re in. Eventually the car comes to a stop in front of a high end japanese restaurant.

“Huh.” You hum, eyes raking the building as he opens the car door for you. “I love Japanese food.”

“I know, I remembered.” Jimin grins tapping the side of his temple while extending an arm for you. You grip on to the crook of his elbow. “This place is the next best thing to actually going to Japan.”

After being seated on the upper level of the restaurant, a private table in the corner with an incredible view of the city you can’t help but feel out of your depth. “Can you tell I don’t normally come to places like this?” You joke.

“Of course not.” He smiles.

“I would have been happy wherever we went, y’know. Even if it was Subway”

“I know,” He playfully rolls his eyes. “I recently sold one of my paintings at auction and made more money than I ever have in my career. Let me treat my favorite lady Next time you can treat me to a meatball sub.”

“Deal.”

“Any word from Namjoon or Hyerin?” He asks, taking a sip of the crimson liquid in his glass.

“No,” You sigh. “I’m excited for them! They don’t even know what sex the baby is.”

“I bet it’s a girl.” Jimin smiles.

“No, it’s a boy. I can feel it. You can tell by the shape of the bump.”

Jimin quirks a questioning brow at you. “Sorry, Doctor Y/N. I forgot about your expertise for a moment.” He says sarcastically.

“Apology accepted.” You play along.

“Let’s make a bet. If it’s a girl, I win. If it’s a boy, you win.”

“What’s at stake?” You question.

“If I win…” He pauses for a moment in thought. “You have to model for me.”

“For a painting?”

“Or a drawing.” He shrugs.

“And if I’m right?” You pry.

“You can say I told you so as much as you want.” He replies and you roll your eyes. It’s hardly a fair bet.

“No, if i'm correct you have to watch whatever movie I want for the next month.”

“Fine. Cruel but fair.”

“Deal!”

As expected the meal is wonderful, and you feel spoiled beyond belief, especially when Jimin toasts to you with a glass of probably the most expensive wine you’ve ever had. After dinner, instead of returning to the car he links your fingers together and pulls you in the opposite direction, citing he needs to walk off the glass of wine he had before he drives anywhere.

Jimin guides you to a nearby river that you can’t remember the name of. At night it’s lit up beautifully, the twinkling lights of the cityscape behind it only adding to the view. The weather is almost perfect and you feel utterly content.

He cages your body with his as he stands behind you, arms looping around your waist, hugging your body tightly to his. “I had such a nice time with you, butterfly.” He murmurs against your neck, before placing a few open mouthed kisses against your skin. A dreamy sigh escapes your parted lips. “Mmm, you smell so good.”

“Thank you for tonight Jimin. It was perfect.” You twist in his arms until you’re chest to chest. His eyes sparkle, reflecting the scenery behind you. His eyes lock with yours as if you’re the only thing in the universe.

Soft lips brush against yours as you cling tightly to him. Jimin’s hands slide underneath your jacket touching the bare skin of your back. He moans quietly into the kiss. “Fuck, I want to take you home.”

“Want you to take me home.” You smirk, raking your hands down his chest. He bites his lip.

“I have a gift for you first though.”

“Jimin,” You whine. “You’ve done more than enough for me.”

“Never.” He teases, stealing a few more kisses from you.

By the time you’re back at the car, Jimin is sober enough to drive and grinning like a cheshire cat. You eye him with a quirked brow. He unlocks the car with a chirp before striding to the trunk and popping it open. “Why do you look like you’re up to something?”

“Me?” He feigns innocence, clutching dramatically at his chest as if you’ve hurt him deeply. “Get in the car.” He instructs, sensing your hesitation.

You hold his playful stare for a moment before giving in and climbing into the passenger side.

The car obstructs most of the view, so you can’t see what he’s up to, although it doesn’t stop you from trying. Only a moment later he’s sliding into the driver’s side, a large pastel pink, flat rectangle box in one hand. You don’t miss the black lace bow holding the gift together. You know exactly what it’s contents are.

“Jimin…”

“For you.” He gives you a sly smile as he hands over the box.

Carefully you unwrap the packaging, revealing some of the most beautiful lingerie you’ve ever seen. “Oh my god.” You gasp. “This is…wow. Oh my god! It’s Agent Provocateur for crying out loud! It’s stunning. You must be broke after tonight.”

He laughs while you ramble on about how stunning the lacy garment is. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” You lean across the console pecking Jimin enthusiastically several times on the cheek.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He says gently. “I love seeing you happy.”

“I’m assuming the intention is for me to wear this...for you?” You suggest with a smirk.

“I said no such thing.”

“So, essentially. This is a gift for Jimin. I haven’t forgotten about your little lingerie kink.”

His blush is noticeable even in the dim streetlight. “Lingerie on you.” He corrects. “You don’t have to wear it for me. I just know you like that sort of thing.”

“How did you even know what size I am?” You query.

“Um,” Jimin, scratches the back of his neck and laughs at himself. “I may have checked the tags on your underwear.”

“Ah. sneaky.” You tease, kissing him once more. “Take me to your place before I beg you to fuck me right here, right now.”

Jimin’s eyes widen in surprise, wondering whether you're being serious or not, no doubt. But he listens anyway and does as you ask, turning the key in the ignition before peeling out of the parking space.

***

Several hours later, as you’re both about to turn in for the night, you receive the text you have eagerly been anticipating the entire day. Hyerin has given birth to a healthy, baby girl.

You nudge Jimin who is on the verge of sleep beside you, spent from the evening, heavy eyelids blinking slowly as he struggles to stay awake. “Hmm?” He mumbles

“It’s a baby girl. Look.”

It takes a minute to register in his mind exactly what you’re talking about before his eyes shoot open, mouth formed in a perfect ‘o’. You thrust your phone screen towards him, a picture of the newborn on display. “Cute.” He yawns.

“Isn’t she?” You hum in agreement, smiling down at the image. “She looks like Hyerin.”

“She’s only a few hours old, she doesn’t look like anyone yet.” Jimin laughs.

“Look at her eyes and tell me that’s not Hyerin!” You defend.

“Are we just going to pretend I didn’t win the bet?” He reminds you, pulling you close to him as soon as you put your phone away. “You owe me, butterfly.”

You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, feeling safe and secure. You can’t help but smile into his skin. “Just let me know when and where you want me.”

“How about this weekend?” He suggests, stroking your hair. “At my studio?”

“Sounds perfect.”

***

It’s only a few days later you find yourself, along with Jimin, at Namjoon and Hyerin’s apartment. Excitement bubbles in your chest at the prospect of meeting their new arrival. You’ve never really been crazy about children, however something about having witnessed the growth of this infant since day one has created a special connection with her.

“Here she is,” Hyerin gives you an exhausted smile, handing the bundle of yellow blankets over to you. The tiny face of a newborn peeking out from underneath, dark hair poking out at the top of the blankets. She seems impossibly tiny. Gently you cradle her, carefully because she looks so fragile and new you can’t quite believe it.

“Nice to meet you beautiful girl.” You coo, unable to stop a wide smile from forming on your face. Jimin sits next to you, an arm slung over the back of the couch, leaning forward so he can see her too. “It’s Auntie y/n.”

She blinks up at you owlishly and it’s amazing to you how intently she’s focusing on your face. You don’t even know if someone her age can register a face yet but it still feels magical.

“I think she recognises your voice.” Hyerin points out, smiling at the pair of you. “She’s heard it enough over the past few months.”

“Is that even possible?” You blink in surprise.

“According to some of the stuff I’ve read, yeah.” Hyerin nods.

“Does she have a name yet?” Jimin asks, eyes never leaving the baby.

“We’re still not sure,” Namjoon answers. “We were thinking Yeona, maybe.”

“It means beautiful baby. Or heart of gold.” Hyerin laughs. “It fits, no?”

“Definitely.” You breathe. “Hello Yeona.” You sing-song to see if she reacts, but she merely yawns earning a laugh from the room. “Message received, pretty girl.”

Her eyes start to flutter shut and you place the pacifier Hyerin hands to you into her small mouth. It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep in your arms while you rock her gently.

“You’re stuck with her now, y/n.” Namjoon laughs. “It’s not good to wake a sleeping baby, you know. Sit tight so Hyerin and I can go nap for four hours.”

“Joonie!” Hyerin scolds with a laugh. He was only joking of course.

“No offense, but both of you look like you could use it.” Jimin quips.

“You’re telling me,” Namjoon groans. “She sleeps a lot at the moment, but honestly, i’m just in a constant state of worry for her wellbeing. 24/7. I haven’t relaxed even for a second in days”

“Me too.” Hyerin agrees. “Top that off with my recovery from the birth and I feel like a zombie.”

“It’ll be worth it.” You say sincerely. Namjoon and Hyerin share a look, the kind of secret exchange two people in love would have. It brings you so much happiness to see them thriving together. Silence falls between the four of you but it isn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Everyone is at ease.

A vibrating sound buzzes, followed by a shrill ring, interrupting the peace. Your phone is ringing from your handbag that sits at your feet. “Ah, I can’t get that. Jimin can you see who it is? It might be work, I don’t want to miss another call from them.”

Jimin reaches for your cellphone and his face falls at the caller id. He says nothing, merely showing you the screen that reads ‘Jeon Jungkook incoming call’. He hasn’t contacted you directly once since the breakup. A knot forms in the pit of your stomach. This can’t be good.

“I’ll call them back later.” You tell Jimin with a shake of your head. You don’t want to be the person that ruins this evening. Tactfully picking up on your tone, he silences the call before slipping his phone back into your bag.

***

Hyerin is putting the baby down for the night whilst Namjoon, you and Jimin have some coffee. Finally having your arms back to yourself you check your phone, only to feel horrified at the sheer amount of notifications. All from Jungkook.

“I need to go make a call,” You announce standing up. Jimin looks at you, worry flashing in his eyes. “I’ll be right back.”

You don’t wait for a response, choosing to instead quickly slip out the front door and into the hallway of their complex, shutting it quietly behind you. You press Jungkook’s name on your call list and wait.

It rings out, before going to voicemail. You try again.

And again.

And again until he answers on the seventh call. “Baaabyy.” He’s drunk and barely coherent. “I’m outside your apartment. Let me in.”

Fuck.

“Jungkook, I’m not home right now.” You say firmly, praying that Taehyung isn’t home either. He shouldn’t have to deal with this, it’s not what he signed up for when he agreed to be your roommate.

“Where are you? Are you at Jimin’s place?” He spits.

“No I’m with Namjoon and Hyerin.” You sigh. “I’m on my way home though. Where is Hoseok?”

“Hoseok tried to lock me up like a fucking prisoner. I don’t give a fuck where he is.”

Exasperated, you pinch the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger, inhaling a deep breath. It’s frustrating to remain calm with someone who is so clearly self sabotaging. “Kook, I’m gonna come get you okay. Will you wait for me?”

“Of course baby. I’ll be - “ He hiccups. “Right here.”

“Don’t go anywhere.” You warn. “I won’t be long.”

You hurry back inside to find Jimin and Namjoon laughing about something, but as soon as their eyes land on you it dies away. “Is everything okay?” Jimin is quick to ask.

“We have to go.” You reply bluntly, cutting straight to the chase. “Jungkook is wasted, hanging outside my apartment, begging to be let in.”

“Christ.” Namjoon groans. “Where was Hoseok? He was keeping an eye on him. Apparently he was completely sober the last few days!”

“I don’t know but I can’t leave Jungkook wandering around shit-faced like that.” You share his frustration. “I’m sorry Namjoon. Tell Hyerin I’m sorry and I’ll call her later.”

Namjoon can only nod as you and Jimin scramble your things together and rush out the door.

***

Taehyung texts you on the drive over. You breathe a sigh of small relief when you realise he’s at work and won’t be home until the small hours of the morning. Still, you don’t intend to risk your living situation so Jimin agrees that the best course of action is to take Jungkook to his place. Jimin lives alone, it’s the easiest option.

“Should I come with you? Or do you want me to wait here?” Jimin asks as he parks the car.

“Stay here for now. I think he might get angry if he sees you.” You head hurts already at the prospect of dealing with that drama. Jimin gives you a solemn look before giving you the okay.

Walking up the stairs and down the hallway to your apartment, your stomach twists with dread, anticipating the condition you might find Jungkook in. You take a deep breath as you round the final corner. Thankfully, it’s not as bad as you had expected.

Jungkook, adorned in his trademark all black outfit, sits on the floor. His back is pressed flush against the wall opposite your front door. A hood covers most of his face and his arms are crossed on his chest, legs sprawled out in front of him. He almost looks like he’s sleeping.

“Jungkook?” You ask gently, crouching down beside him. He stirs slightly. You push the hood off his face and brush some of his long hair away from his eyes. “Kookie.” You repeat.

His eyes slowly flutter open and it takes a few seconds for him to focus on you. “Baby.” He grins lopsidedly, fumbling to hold you. It’s an awkward embrace given that you're not in the right position for a hug right now.

“Do you want to stand up for me?” You’re unsure how to approach telling him he’s going to Jimin’s, so for right now trepidation and caution is key. Jungkook nods. He slings an arm around your shoulder, while you slide one around his waist, letting him lean on your for support.

“Are we going inside now?” He mumbles. “...m’tired.”

“We can’t, My roommate is home.” You lie.

“Roommate?” Jungkook frowns. “Jimin?”

“Taehyung.” You correct.

“Who the fuck is that?”

“Come on, my car is downstairs, we’re going somewhere else.” You avoid his question, and he seems momentarily satisfied with your answer. “Let’s walk to the elevator.”

He doesn’t remove his arm from your shoulders as you make your way out of the building. “Are you mad at me baby?” He asks, slumping against you in the elevator.

“No. I’m not.” It’s the truth, you’re not angry. Above anything and everything you’re concerned for him.

Jimin spots you walking out the building and immediately springs up and out of the driver's seat to help you. He appears at the side of the car, opening the door to the backseat. “I’m not going anywhere with him.” Jungkook snarls, pointing obnoxiously at Jimin.

“Kookie, kookie, please - “ You beg.

“NO! You’ll take me to Hoseok’s or rehab. No.” He yells.

“I promise we won’t, Jungkook.” Jimin assures him quietly. “You can just crash at my apartment. We won’t tell Hoseok if you don’t want us to.”

Jungkook looks down cautiously at you, as if he can gauge whether Jimin is serious or not by your expression. He sways a little as he stands. “Baby girl,” he sighs dramatically. “I don’t want to go.”

“Please,” You say quietly. “I don’t want to leave you by yourself right now.”

“You want me?” He asks, his intoxicated brain clearly misinterpreting your words. That’s not exactly what you meant but if it will get him in the car and on the way to safety you’ll agree to almost anything.

“Of course. Come get in.”

He hesitates for a minute, but lets you bundle him in the car anyway. As you go to close the door, he grabs your wrist. “Noooo,” He whines. “Sit in the back with me.”

“Jungk - “

“Sit with me or I’m not going.”

You exchange a glance with Jimin who looks unhappy but nods, encouraging you to just continue playing along. When you slip into your side, Jungkook hastily and roughly pulls you into the middle of the backseat, then wraps his arms around you.

“Jungkook,” You warn, attempting to push his arms away.

“You said you’d sit with me.” He pouts, burying his face into your neck. You sigh, accepting defeat, mouthing ‘I’m sorry’ to Jimin when your eyes meet in the rear view mirror. He shakes his head ‘don’t worry’ he mouths back.

Jungkook soon falls asleep on your shoulder. His grip on you slackens a little. Using this as an opportunity you slowly roll one sleeve up his arm. In the light of the passing street lamps it’s hard to tell but there doesn’t appear to be any track marks. From his behaviour tonight he didn’t seem high; only inebriated. A threadbare silver lining, you suppose.

By the time all three of you have made it inside of Jimin’s apartment, Jungkook is just about completely blacked out. Together you and Jimin place him on the sofa. Jimin has a luxury corner couch so it’s basically like a small bed anyway. You help him out of his shoes while Jimin fetches some water and a bucket, knowing Jungkook’s tendendancy for vomiting after alcohol.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook sounds emotional, but you know it’s the liquor talking. You perch on the side of the couch beside him.

“It’s alright.” You say kindly. “Why did you drink so much tonight?”

“I’m not allowed to do drugs, so may as well get drunk.” He grumbles, rubbing at his eyes.

You shake your head at his ridiculous logic. It’s quiet as you wait for Jimin to return, and by the time he has Jungkook is once again unconscious. As if by muscle memory from having done it so many times before, you make sure he’s laying on his side, so he doesn’t die if he vomits in his sleep.

Jimin sets down the bucket and water next to Jungkook. “Thank you.” Your voice is hoarse.

It’s silent as you head to Jimin’s bedroom together. Emotionally you feel drained. How long does this pattern with Jungkook have to repeat before something changes? Inevitably it will take its toll. Not just on Jungkook himself, not just your relationship, but every one in your social group. It hurts to see Jungkook so out of control. He always used to be so outgoing. So free. So happy.

Robotically you go through the motions of your bedtime routine, as does Jimin. Without asking, you grab his shirt to wear to bed. You finish changing before him and watch as he rakes through a drawer, pulling on a pair of pyjama pants.

You’re so lucky to have him. After everything you’ve put him through, he’s been nothing but supportive. It’s so different to how you felt about Jungkook. That all consuming passion you and Jungkook had burns bright but fades quickly. How you feel about Jimin has been a slow, steady burn. It feels authentic. Stable. Real.

“Jimin.” You begin quietly.

“Hm?” He climbs into bed next to you. “Are you okay?”

“I just wanted you to know, you’re an amazing person for doing this tonight. I don’t know many people who would go to the lengths you have for Jungkook, or for me.” You breathe, suddenly feeling very nervous. He squeezes you a little tighter. “I love you Jimin.”

“Uh - “ He pulls away, looking flustered and immediately your stomach drops. Maybe he has changed his mind.

“Oh god! I’m sorry, I stupidly just assumed you’d still be in the same place as before, and I know i’ve kept you waiting for so long. Fuck, Jimin, I’m sorry, really - “

He silences your overthinking with a press of his lips against yours. “I love you too.”

Jimin is smiling now, his big eyes almost closed with how hard he’s grinning.

“It’s a weird time to say it huh?” You laugh, kissing him again. “I don’t think I’ve ever loved you as much as I do at this moment.” You hide your face against his chest, feeling shy from your admission. His chest vibrates as he chuckles.

“I love you, I love you so much butterfly.”

“I love you. We took a long route to get here, but I’m glad we did.”

“Does this mean we’re together now? Officially? I overheard you panic when Taehyung referred to me as your boyfriend.” Jimin teases. You were not aware he heard that.

“Yes. I’m all yours.” You smile into his shirt.

He kisses the top of your head. You fall asleep in his embrace not long afterwards.

***

The digital bedside clock reads 5:03am when you jolt awake. Unsure of what startled you, you listen carefully for a noise but all that can be heard is your own heartbeat thrumming in your ears with Jimin’s soft breathing in the background.

You roll over as best you can because he’s still clinging to you (although your positions have changed) even in slumber. You press a kiss to his cheek, watching him fondly for a few moments. His perfect mouth is parted slightly and his hair is adorably messy.

Suddenly you recall Jungkook passed out in the living room. Not that you forgot about him per say, you were just distracted by Jimin for a moment. Quietly you tip toe out of the bedroom and down the hall.

Jungkook is still in almost exactly the same position as he was when you left him several hours ago. As silently as you can you sit down next to him, just to make sure he’s okay. Evidently he’s not as deep asleep as you’d presumed because his eyes flutter open at the weight of your body sinking down on to the couch.

“y/n.” He croaks at the sight of you. “Where am I? Is this your place?” He coughs a few times, his voice hoarse from lack of use.

You forgot he had never been to Jimin’s new apartment. Jimin had moved after everything went down. No wonder the surroundings were unfamiliar. He probably didn’t remember much from the previous night either.

“This is Jimin’s apartment.” For some reason you feel guilty admitting that. “Are you thirsty? Can I get you anything?”

“What?” He sits up on his elbows, looking around the room. “Did he move?” You nod. “Oh…”

“Do you remember much from last night?” You ask nervously.

“Ahhh, kind of,” He looks embarrassed, eyes darting away. “I remember wanting to see you. Going to your house. Vaguely remember hugging you in the car. That’s about it.”

“Where was Hoseok? Last I heard you were staying with him. Namjoon said you were sober.”

“Hobi’s girlfriend broke her ankle so he took her to hospital. I snuck out, even though I promised Hobi I wouldn’t.” Jungkook has the decency to look ashamed. “I am sober….I was at least. I haven’t done drugs in a long time. I guess I just got cabin fever.”

“That’s understandable,” You sigh. “You shouldn’t drink if you get in such a state. What if you had driven again!? How did you even make it to my apartment last night?”

“Walked.” He shrugs.

“Jungkook.” You hide your face behind your palms when you feel the tears begin to burn in your eyes. He doesn’t say anything. You feel him shuffle a little and then wrap his arms around you in a hug.

“Don’t cry.” He whispers.

“I can’t keep doing this. You need to get help.” You choke back a sob. “Why won’t you?”

His hold on you tightens. “I’m scared. I’m ashamed. I’m supposed to be a fun, party guy. Not an addict.”

Gently you push him away. “There is nothing wrong with needing help Jungkook. From the outside, it appears as if you desperately need it. What can I say to convince you?”

“I…”

“I’ll do anything. I’ll drive you anywhere, Jimin will drive you anywhere. God knows Hoseok, Namjoon and Yoongi will do anything for you. Take you to AA meetings, therapy, anything. Just tell me what, Jungkook, and I’ll do it.”

“Will everyone think less of me? Will you think less of me?” He asks quietly, taking you aback. “You hate me now. I was awful to you when we were together.”

“No. If anything I’d think more highly of you. It’s infinitely more difficult to take control than it is to lose it.” A lone tear escapes. “In regards to us? We weren’t compatible Kookie, but I loved you very much.”

“I still love you. I think I always will. I’m sorry I fucked up.”

“It’s done. There’s nothing we can do about the past. I’m sorry too. Obviously I care about you, which is why I’m trying my best to help.”

Jungkook nods slowly, processing everything you’ve just explained.

“I’ll do it.” He says with certainty.

“Jungkook,” You desperately want to get your hopes up, he sounds so sure.

“If you help me.”

“Of course.”

“Jimin won’t mind? I know you’re together now.” He asks. Jungkook doesn’t look angry, or even hurt. It’s worse. He looks sad.

“Jimin loves you Jungkook, regardless of everything that’s transpired. I know he won’t mind.”

“Okay.” He replies quietly.

“Stay here for the rest of the day. I’ll make you food, and we can figure out what is the right help for you. I know you felt pressured before but we’ll find what is best for you. You don’t have to do anything against your will. Sound good?” You ask.

“Thank you.” He mumbles meekly.

“It’s still early. Get some sleep.” You give him a small smile before you stand up and leave.

***

Once you return to the privacy of Jimin’s room, you get back into bed. Your boyfriend rouses at the sound of the door clicking shut, which you’re thankful for because you would feel guilty waking him. “Hey beautiful.” He says sleepily. “Where’d you go?”

“I was checking on Jungkook.” You explain. “We need to help him Jimin.”

“I know.” He sits up a little in bed, yawning.

“He promised he would take this seriously. Only if I help him.” You pause, waiting for a negative reaction but Jimin is merely patient, waiting for you to continue. “I told him we all would as long as he stays here today. He might be more receptive to help if we do it more...casually? I think he felt like a hostage at Hoseoks.”

“That’s fine. He can stay here as long as he wants. I hate seeing him like he was last night. He acts like a completely different person when he’s drinking.”

You’re instantly reminded of the physical fight the two men had had, knowing there was no way it would have occurred if Jungkook had been sober. Maybe that’s why Jimin seemed to have forgiven him so quickly.

Lacing your hands with Jimin, you squeeze his hand in reassurance. “Thank you.”

***

Jimin has the tact to remain elusive around the apartment in the following hours. It’s a smart idea to alleviate any tension that his presence may create. You shower first, throwing a hoodie of his and some shorts on before going to see Jungkook. Having spent many nights with Jimin you’re familiar with his morning routine, which is why you’re able to deduce that he’s deliberately taking a long time.

“Can I borrow your phone charger?” Is the first thing Jungkook asks you as you stride into the living room. “My phone died.”

You give him your charger, along with a cup of coffee and sit yourself down beside him. As his phone turns on you can hear the many notifications go off, god knows who he had been calling and texting last night. “How are you feeling?”

“Fuckin’ hungover.” He grimaces. “Where’s Jimin?”

“Shower.”

“Is he pissed off?” Jungkook peers at you over the rim of his coffee mug. His hands are trembling from the after affects of the alcohol.

“No. He’s worried. Everyone is.” You answer truthfully. A few moments of slightly stiff silence pass. You have no idea what is going through Jungkook’s mind at the moment. He’s frowning. “You know, when you attend your trial, if you’re in AA or anything similar it will make you look genuinely remorseful in front of the judge.”

“I am genuinely remorseful.” He mutters. “It’s not as easy as people think just to stop drinking. It’s been my lifestyle for so long now. How am I supposed to tour if I’m sober?!”

The question is rhetorical but you answer anyway. “Lots of rockstars do, you know. If you get treatment you’ll develop coping mechanisms to deal with all of that.”

He makes an agreeable sound but still appears rather skeptical.

After a lengthy discussion (which Jimin awkwardly interrupts to offer food), you manage to convince Jungkook to at least look at AA meetings with you. You promise someone will go with him to everyone one, not to babysit but to be supportive. He’s not allowed to drive at the moment so you surmise having a friend with him would be better than taking a taxi.

Jimin joins you both a little bit later with said promised food, Jungkook calls Hobi to let him know he’s safe. Even though the phone is not on speaker you can hear Hoseok yell. Jungkook simply rolls his eyes.

After he’s eaten Jungkook announces he’s going to leave and head back to Hoseoks. You want him to text you when he’s there (you’re not sure if you even believe him) but you know any amount of pressure right now when he’s this fragile could ruin everything.

The goodbye is awkward, it’s to be expected. He thanks you both, lingers for a moment and then he’s gone. He assured you both that he would text when he is going to go for his first meeting. You really hope he does.

***

Jimin makes sure not to let you forget your promise to model for him. Although the situation with Jungkook left the two of you feeling slightly off kilter for the rest of Saturday, by lunch time Sunday his lingering touches and innuendos leave little to the imagination. He kisses your neck as you’re making food, whispering: “Want to go to my studio? I believe you owe me.”

“Now?” You smile dreamily, leaning into his touch.

“We can eat first, if you want.” He nips the skin at the junction of your neck before running his tongue over the flesh and beginning to suckle. It’s going to leave a bruise, which you absolutely cannot have the day before starting a new job.

“Jimin,” You complain, pushing him off you. “I’ve got work tomorrow, I can’t go in there looking like some horny teenager who let her boyfriend play vampire on their neck.”

“Sorry.” He snickers. “I was thinking some hickeys might look pretty when I paint you. You know most live models are nude...”

“I knew this was a ploy to get me naked.” You smirk, wiping the knife you were using to cut fruit on a dishtowel. It gets tossed in the sink, leaving you hands free to spin in his arms and face him.

“Kind of,” He grins. “But I also really want my muse to model for me.”

“Naked?”

“If you’re comfortable.” His fingers begin to unbutton the oversize plaid shirt of his you’re wearing (stolen of course), until you’re exposed all the way to your navel. Plush lips travel down from your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You shiver feeling his saliva meet the cool air. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. I think your body is art, y/n. Every inch of it.”

You gasp when he yanks down the cups of your bra, taking a nipple in his mouth. He repeats this on your other breast before gently sucking a bruise on the skin next to it. After a minute or two he pulls away to assess his work with a smirk.

“Jimin,” You pant as your hands fly to grip the counter behind you. He’s barely done anything and you’re already weak for him. “You can’t leave a mark anywhere someone might see.”

“Unless you’re going to work without clothes on, these are just for my eyes only sweetheart.” More buttons are undone as Jimin kneels on the floor before you, grasping your hips in his hands. His mouth trails to the flesh right above your hip bone where he works on forming another lovebite. “Is this turning you on, butterfly?” He asks breathlessly.

Jimin’s big eyes meet yours as he looks up to confirm what he already knows is true. When you don’t answer immediately, he strokes a thumb over your quickly dampening panties, right where your swollen clit would be underneath. “Y-yeah.” You manage to choke out.

“Mhm,” Jimin carries on rubbing you as he resumes sucking a hickey slightly above the mark he just made. After one particular harsh suck and a nip with his teeth you jolt with pleasure. “I can feel how wet you are through your panties.”

“It feels so good.” You almost whimper. “I want more. Take my underwear off.”

“No.” He bites his lip, holding back a devilish look.

“Jimin, please.” You whine. It’s not like him to tease you. “Please.”

“Nuh uh.” He shakes his head. “You’re going to be a good girl for me first.” He punctuates his words by increasing the pressure.

“I am being good.” You breath hitches when he stops. “Jimin.”

“I meant, be good and model for me.” He stands up, kissing you teasingly on the lips. ��Get dressed, we are going to my studio.”

a/n: if anyone is curious, THIS is what I imagined Jimin’s apartment to be like. THIS is what i imagined the lingerie gift as. (i’m a really visual person & always love it when other writers include stuff like this). p.s the next chapter is one of the smuttiest things ive ever written oh lawd. prepare yourselves.

p.p.s the next chapter is the end :(

MASTERLIST

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anyu-blue · 3 years ago

Text

Hey I'm rambling about stuff in my own head again. Trigger warnings apply- specifically those dealing with therapy, dysphoria, self harm, relationships, and stuff like that. :T

I don't really understand it... For quite a while there I was fine. Content even to just let things slide. I think it was because I felt secure where I was (with Lon) and blocked out a lot that doing therapy has brought screaming to the front of my mind... But I could be wrong and I feel confused and conflicted again.

At one point (before Lon) I had settled down when my previous therapist basically gave me permission to call myself androgynous. She told me it was okay- if that's what I felt, then I could use it.... I felt very relieved and much less ruffled. There was still a nag in the back of my head, but it was quiet enough I buried it... For the most part...

Getting with Lon brought quite a few forward and I insisted he understand I am/was not a girl. He also seemed content and sweet and more than accepting... Until he wasn't.. looking back.. Lon said a LOT of weird or off things he either never came through with or downright switched on.. especially near the end. EVERYONE in his family and friend group assumed and pushed the 'girl' thing... And that nag got a little louder..I pushed back (gently) reminding Lon with little things here and there that I wasn't... But still 'she' and overwhelming compliments on my feminity buried me under them. In the end... I know it was driving me crazy (literally) and probably Contributed more to the mess than I understood at the time.

But it also wasn't a push even.. just the assumption.. I believe that because right now my hackles are raised so high every time someone says 'she' to or about me I BRISTLE. I want to yell or (depending on who it is) quietly tell whomever is doing it to stop.. tell them they're wrong... Most aren't doing it maliciously, I know.. it's just what they see. I feel pressured or pushed. It's really weird and extremely uncomfortable. It's confusing too because.. I don't know... I can't see how they don't see me as different than 'girl'... Or heaven forbid 'WOMAN.'

*shudders*

My therapist and I are exploring the feelings around when these things are said to me... And she's proposed doing something about my anger and frustration like squeezing Something or something or just outright accepting it... Basically ANYTHING other than telling people my business... But the problem is, I've told her... I want to BREAK things.. I mean I don't... But I feel the urge to. To hit. To yell. To scream. To cry. To crush. To run. But I don't. In some ways I can't.... Squeezing Something when I'm angry hurts me. My grip is incredibly weak (always has been no matter what I've tried) and everything pops painfully. Or it pinches my skin and hurts... So I've developed a reflex to do the opposite of squeeze or hit things (which certainly hasn't helped the weakness issue lol)... And even if I do try to do those things.... It's never enough. I can't go and go and go like I want to. It just makes me madder. More frustrated. It's never satisfying or as releasing as People tell me it should feel. I just want more. And more and more and more. And in the end I'm usually left a sobbing mess that's completely spent, but still so mad and frustrated... Feeling those feelings even more. Sure I'm tired enough to pass out.. but I wake up.. and everything is still there.. usually coupled with depression because it's STILL THERE... And I couldn't get it out. I don't feel better or lighter or more free.. I feel heavier.. sadder... Worse. I used all that energy and nothing came of it.

And I don't understand!! I really don't. Why I'm never satisfied... Why I've always always been so angry... I was told I was an extremely cruel child.. I remember a little too.. I always wanted to act, but was pushed down.. and even when I did, it never felt good or like it was enough.. I swear I could tear an entire house down by myself with nothing but my own two hands and I STILL would want to do more.

...

And I'm feeling all of these things with gender...

Tevs said to me she thinks I 'want to be a boy because our mother always wanted a boy and [I] always wanted her approval.' ... I can't deny that MAYBE it had an influence on me. MAYBE...

But... I don't WANT that witch's approval anymore. I don't care about her distain either. I don't want her ANYWHERE NEAR my life, it's MINE not hers.. and I'm really pissed off no one can seem to take the damn hint I am 110% DONE with her and anything to do with her. She HAS a son to raise now. And a loving husband who had her adopt him. And good friends and whatever else she has in her life. I am OUT of it. And I want to be out of it forever.

.. it feels demeaning when Tevs says that it's all from that to me.. she's done it more than once, and of course I'm upset by it every time.

... I just want to be me... And every time someone looks at me and tells me I am beautiful.. or pretty.. or a wonderful woman... I just want to cry... To go hide.. I feel so ashamed.

...

Here's the thing.. I AM attractive. I AM beautiful, hot, resilient, kind... Just about everything you'd associate a woman with... I was walking to another area in my workplace just tonight and caught a glimpse of myself as I did so in our big windows... The way I walk. My silhouette. Everything about me... Is envious.

I'm not saying these things because I'm vain.. I'm saying them because if I compare my body and gait and everything to the People alongside me- even the guests I see coming in- I can see it as clearly as everyone else who tells me I'm this pretty thing does... I'm not sickeningly skinny and I'm not fat. I'm not super tall nor short. I'm right in the middle with an ass and legs People tell me they'd kill to have... If I were to wear proper bras, I have a chest they'd love too- not too heavy and not unnoticeably small... But I wear ones that squish my chest so it looks like I have less (and that might be why I have such glaring problems with my ribcage sliding out of place all the time. I'm crushing everything XP).. take a guess as to why I started doing that...

I can't hide my hips... Nor my legs... I've got cute feet too. And hands... So dainty and fine- just enough bone and plump in the right places... It's no wonder I am the envy of my poor (adopted) cousin desperate to be a model and a star.. poor girl. She's beautiful in her own right, but her genes have made it so hard for her to fully dive into her confidence... My dad told me we are rivals and have always been... And my heart breaks for her because I'm not even trying... I want her to succeed!! To be the one in the spotlight!! I want to stay in the background so she can shine... But I always get pulled forward and somehow she's in my shadow (despite being taller than me).. and she can't stand to be near me.. even when I am trying my hardest to let her lead or to say things kindly or in her favor.. I can't seem to win... So I don't really have a relationship with her at all.. Though I really wanted to.

When I don't hide.. when I do 'dress up'... There's so many compliments. If I run into ANYONE from school when I do... *Gags* the compliments, disbelief, and shock... I remember EVERY prom... People not knowing who I was... Or being shocked if they did recognize me straight out. All 4 years... And it made the ostracization worse. My class was AFRAID of me. I was this shy/frumpy (also angry) little thing.. but I still remember being stared at changing after gym whenever there wasn't a stall for me to hide in.. I personally at the time thought it was because I was so ugly/fat they couldn't help themselves... Going through everything in therapy.. I realize it was because I was so skinny under all my baggy clothes.. and really pretty under the acne/hood/ugly glasses. I wasn't bullied just because I was smart/loved to learn... I was a threat and didn't even know it. The envy of my peers. And it's so sad.

I did wish to be like them.. so confident. So able to fake it. To do my makeup and wear cute things and to feel right somehow... But I never did. I tried.. but couldn't stand the clothes.. or the comments about my ass... Or all the things they focused on whenever I came close to succeeding. I couldn't seem to get it right. I just wanted to hide whenever I stood out... It never felt right.

It got to the point I was AFRAID to wear dresses and skirts. Terrified. Everything felt wrong with the world when I did. I felt like I was faking Something. Like I was purposefully being awful... Lying..

I wear some now because I was cheered up by the idea of genderqueer people and some men finding comfort in wearing them and in some ways them becoming more acceptable by all genders... Plus they're reeeally comfy sometimes. And it's nice to just be able to throw on a dress with built in pads during the summer heat wave than to worry about all those damn layers XP ... And I recognize that no one is going to question me or think I'm lying when I wear any... They don't see what I have in my head.

I do recognize that some of this stuff has trauma tied to it... And I'm confused because I don't know where the trauma ends and I (my own genuine thoughts) begin... I was not treated kindly at home- even outright being called ugly in a derogatory manner.. granted I now know those comments mostly came from a pedophile disinterested in me and the pedophile's own manipulation of my mother and her family's opinions (gaslighting and twisting to where I really was the horrible child in all ways) AND I know that I am not neurotypical which caused some other unfortunate treatments in and around my home.

I don't know where to go with it... Or why I'm so viscously against being called a girl or a woman. Why it's setting me off so bad right now. I just know that it is... And for some reason every time I'm alone or not really thinking of it... I don't think of myself as one. Not at all. And when I'm reminded.. I'm often startled by it and confused and need to process the information for a second... Despite 'being' one for all of my life... I've continually had the problem I don't expect what I see in the mirror either.. especially since puberty.

If I could show you what I think/feel most of the time... I think this would be the closest I could get- just make the chest straighter/flatter... It bugged me to no end to add that detail in and still does to this day, but I was going off the model (me lol). I don't feel like Anything... But I want to be something.. and that Something is... Not this. Not this...

But where do I go? What do I do?

I'm terrified of surgeries... I don't want massive scars (not that I mind scars- in fact I LOVE them. They're so cool!! But I don't want people to KNOW you know? Not that. Not Something that is such a private matter... I don't want to believe or go after something for it to be wrong too... And I don't feel I can afford any of it anyway 😞 even if I did want to try or actually found the right one... I would be so depressed to never be able to reach my goal.. and I feel I've held myself back due to that fear too...

I know another reason I haven't tried anything or spoken up or anything is because I have this strange desire to pass on my genetic legacy. It is such a powerful urge I am TERRIFIED of losing the ability... People tell me about adoption all the time as a great option, and it IS a great option for the children... Because I would do ANYTHING for my own... But it's this terrible terrible feeling I wouldn't feel I could claim them as my own and it would leave something still empty inside of me and I wouldn't be as loving because of it and that kills me... It sounds terrible too!!

I would do almost anything to have my own child... When it comes to pain tolerance or body changes I know I would have the hardest time than most if I were to get knocked up.. but I have that thought that it would be worth it because they are MINE.

I've thought about egg donation.. because I feel it would make me feel better to know I succeeded in passing on the line to someone better off and worthy of having children... But I feel I have too many genetic issues or would be an undesirable candidate or I'd feel terrible if the child died and then I didn't succeed...

Lol I think of things oddly... And that makes me think I don't deserve to have children or donate too... Never mind the actual process XP boy... Complicated~

So I've never tried... I am also quite poor and know I would struggle to raise a child. Even just one. And if I were to have twins (as I'm the generation that is supposed to)... I have even more worries... And I don't want a child or children to grow up with the struggles I had or worse than I had like they likely would if I just went for it.

...

I knew I felt more sure when I was with Lon because he apparently wanted/wants kids too... And it was in the plan (Maybe. Maybe not. It's possible he was the one messing with my medication alarms and trying, but also possible he just wanted sex... Because he told me before he left that he thought he was infertile for a long time (and there's some pretty strong evidence to suggest he's got weak swimmers lol but I'm not going to divulge what that stuff is) so it may have been a lie all along... But I didn't know and felt assured and safe with that path at the time)...

*sigh*

Idk what to do... I know I'm messed up about it all.. and I know my knee jerks and feelings... But I don't exactly trust myself or my memory or my reasons... I am only human... And I feel so lost.

I know what I envy... Very much.. and what I would choose if I could... But... Life just doesn't work that way... And science is so stunted it likely won't in my lifetime.

*snort*

I feel the worst thing that my dad ever said to me was when I told him and his wife that I wasn't a girl... I don't remember if I told them I was neither or would prefer to be a guy... But I do remember my dad's response... He told me 'go ahead and you do you, but I want you to know that no matter what, you're always going to be my little girl. I just can't think of you any other way, because you are. You're my little girl.'

And I just... It struck me so badly (obviously, I still think about it)... And made my heart so heavy. I... Understand... To the extent I can... And I don't want to... Lose him because I can't accept that... But.. I feel like it's only pushed me to lose myself... To.. just stay. Take the 'easy' route. To 'accept' it (except we can see how well THAT'S going).

*sigh*

I don't know...

The only thing I do know right now is I have this fantasy about... Going away for a while. More or less disappearing for 5 to 10 years... And coming back... How I want to be/see myself... And seeing what everyone would think...

Tevs thinks I only want it because of trauma. Dad thinks I'm always going to be his daughter. Everyone else is so sure I am a woman...

And maybe they're right... (I mean TECHNICALLY lol I can't exactly argue with that 😂)... And I would be trying to let my 'good looks' and all that 'go to waste'...

...

If I could trade someone... 100%... I would. I'm a pretty/beautiful/attractive looking body... (My face is debatable lol but whatever)... I wonder how come am I not happy about it...

#personal #random #ignore me #life in general #trigger warnings apply

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sohin-ace · 5 years ago

Text

Jonathan - Sick

This is cross-posted from Wattpad and available on AO3.

Enjoy~

F/N means father's name awright.

It's been quite some days since you have seen your friend Jonathan. You two would usually hang out after school and during the week ends to talk about your day, joke and play around, or even share some snacks together sometimes, as friends do.

But these past days, you've been waiting for him at your usual spot, but he hasn't been showing up. This worried you a lot since he never ever dumped you or made you wait as he was really serious about acting like a real gentleman and treating a lady properly.

You knew he also had some problems with his adoptive brother Dio and you got scared that maybe they got into a fight again, or something bad happened to him. You decided to go visit the Joestar Mansion and see for yourself what was happening.

You came to the huge wooden doors of your best friend's home and knocked. You dusted off your dress a little bit and made yourself presentable, waiting for an answer. A moment later, the locks clanked and the door opened. You were then greeted by a nice-looking maid who smiled politely at you.

"Hello, my name is Y/N L/N, daughter of F/N L/N. I came to visit Jonathan, is he here?" The maid's face brightened visibly.

"Aah! You are milady Y/N that young master always talks about! Please be welcomed!" She stepped aside, gesturing you to come in and you complied, thanking her.

The maid then closed the door behind you and, as she asked you to follow her, a tall blonde figure came elegantly descending from the stairs.

"Don't fret, Sakuya. I will take our guest to Jojo's room." He said in his deep, smooth voice while looking down at you. You stared back, unfazed.

"Ah! How considerate of you, young master Dio, thank you very much!" the maid bowed to him and walked away, getting back to her own business and leaving you both alone.

You stared at him as he approached you. You didn't know much about Dio, you only met him a couple times, but you already knew from what Jonathan told you, and from your small encounters with him, that Dio was not the person to be trusted. You were very wary of him.

Although charming and handsome, the guy radiated an eery aura and had this intimidating scarlet gaze that always put you on edge.

You understood how girls would fawn over him and how guys would want to be his friend, but you personally, would rather keep your distance. Everything about him screamed 'danger'. Overall you always kept your guards up around him.

"Oh please Y/N dear, don't show me that face, I don't bite." The blonde smirked as he got closer and closer.

Your eyes darted away from him and you tensed up, not saying anything. You had nothing to tell him, you weren't here to deal with his shenanigans anyway.

He stood next to you and kindly offered his arm out. "Now, shall we go?"

You reluctantly slid your hand around his arm and walked with him to Jonathan's room, never making eye contact.

"You're awfully silent Y/N, I'm hurt." Dio feigned. "Don't you want to know why Jojo has been absent as of late?"

"Don't bother. I'm here to figure it out." you huffed and he chuckled at your defiance.

You detached yourself from him as soon as you reached the front of Jonathan's bedroom. You knocked gently on the door when Dio continued.

"You being stone cold won't stop me, Y/N you know it." You paused, glaring at the door until you heard the faint sound of Jonathan's voice.

"...Have a nice day, Dio." You then entered the bedroom and you swore you could feel the blonde smirk behind you.

You closed the door a bit harder than you intended and sighed. Upon entering, you immediately noticed your friend laying in his bed, a wet cloth resting over his forehead. His face was flushed and he breathed in slight pants. He tiredly looked over at you and smiled weakly.

"Ah, Y/N it's you!" He tried to sit up but you rushed towards him and pushed him back down.

"No no no, Jojo don't get up. Are you okay? What happened to you?" His eyes softened at your worried self.

"It's nothing really, I'm just a little sick. I think I must have eaten something I shouldn't have, but I'm fine." He chuckled sheepishly and you sighed in relief, sitting down at the edge of his bed.

You always imagined the worst case scenarios, especially with Dio around the corner ready to trouble him and make his life a mess.

"Anyway, what a surprise!" he started, his voice hoarse, "It's so good to see you!" He smiled weakly which melted your heart.

"Of course, Jojo. I missed you." you softly spoke and and he couldn't help but stare at you, taking in your beautiful form. He missed you too.

You took a moment to observe his features as well. This boy scared you so much sometimes with his foolishness. You brought your hand to the side of his face and caressed his warm cheek gently and he let you do as you pleased.

"What will I do if you don't even take care of yourself." you laughed then paused. "I was worried you know, when you stopped showing up..."

Jonathan felt a pang in his heart. He felt bad. First of all, his pride as a gentleman was hurt for abandonning and letting down a lady, but most importantly, he felt horrible as a friend, for making you worry about him and leaving you alone.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I wanted to tell you, but I knew that if I sent Dio to let you know, he probably wouldn't have done it..." He looked away, as disappointed as you were.

'Of course.' you thought to yourself, annoyed but not surprised.

As a comfortable and relaxing silence fell upon the room, you let your hand glide from his cheek to his neck in a feathery light touch. He blushed an even darker shade of red than he already was and his mouth was agape as a silent gasp escaped from it.

Your hand was so soft and gentle on him, like the touch of a caring mother. Something that he never experienced.

His skin almost burned you with his fever. "Jojo, you're very hot. You should rest for a bit."

He then grabbed your wrist and widened his eyes. "You're leaving already? I'm not sleepy, you can stay!"

You chuckled at the boy. For a strong, big guy, he sure acted cute and childish sometimes. You pulled the blanket higher over his body and patted him, effectively soothing him. His heart was beating hard in his chest, but he was relaxed. Being with you was the only medecine he needed.

"Okay then, I'll stay. If you need anything, tell me and I'll go bring it to you, okay?" he nodded.

There was another moment of silence where only his breathing and you patting his covered chest could be heard. You looked around a bit and noticed small rags, medecine and a water bowl on his bedside table with a little bit of unfinished bread. You would make sure he ate that bread later.

You took the wet cloth on his forehead and dipped it in the water to cool it down. You squeezed the exceeding water out, and gently laid it back on his forehead.

You then pressed your now cold and wet hands over his burning cheeks and the dark haired male smiled in delight.

"Aah it feels good Y/N~ Thank you! When I get better I'll make it up to you."

"There's nothing to make up for, Jojo. It's only natural." You reassured him.

"Still... You always take care of me, without asking anything in return... " He took one of your hands in both his and turned his head slightly to kiss the palm of it. His soft lips tickled you and your heart beat hastened.

Still kissing you, his eyes fluttered open and he glanced at you through hooded lids and you blushed madly at his enticing expression. Even sick, he was still handsome as ever, and his actions never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

You could never get enough of the Joestar heir and it drove you crazy sometimes. Your train of thoughts was interrupted by his voice.

"This is why I fell in love with you..." He breathed, nuzzling your soft hand like it was a treasure and your own breath hitched at his confession.

"J-jojo...! You are sick right now, you're not thinking straight. Please, go to sleep." you reasoned, utterly flustered.

You didn't know how to react yet. You knew you loved him to death too, but you wanted to make sure he was in good condition to talk about feelings. Also, you wouldn't take advantage of a sick man like this for your own interest, so you decided to wait before answering any kind of confession.

"But I'm sincere, Y/N." He gazed at you intensely with blue glossy eyes. "You are so beautiful..."

Your eyes widened and you gasped, fighting back a squeal. This was too much for you, you had to stop his madness, now.

You released your hand from his grasp and tucked his own under the blanket. You caressed his hair gently to try and lull him to sleep.

"The fever is making you talk nonsense, Jojo. Please now, rest. I'm here so you can close your eyes."

"Aah... Maybe you're right... I'm a little bit... tired... I... slee...p..." he slurred his words more and more until he finally let out soft snores, signaling he fell into dreamland.

You sighed heavily. Your heart was still pounding hard and fast inside your ribcage and you buried your face in his chest, embarrassed and shaken by his earlier words. This boy will kill you one day.

"Please, please God, let his words be his actual feelings, don't make me hope and hurt me like this..."

You couldn't see it, but Jonathan's lips broke into a secret smile.

Did you see that Touhou reference I made there? Except it totally doesn't match Sakuya's character lol she would stab Dio in the face with no warning.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo #jjba #jonathan #jonathan joestar #phantom blood #x reader #reader insert #writing #sickfic #jonathan joestar x reader #jonathan x reader #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo part 1 #part 1

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eyesontheskyline · 5 years ago

Note

(about the whole fic writer asks, except those answered now) the story specific ones have to be about 'but if you really hold me tight' - I love all your cxg fics and it's the longest one :D) it's just I'm thinking of getting back to writing and since you're of my favorites authors out there now i'd love to get some insight. kudos for being cool about it!

Hello! Okay first of all thank you so much, that is a ridiculously big compliment and my face hurts. And yes yes yes you should definitely write if you feel like writing - just go for it! If you have any specific questions or you want a pep talk or whatever, message any time :)

Okay I’m gonna put these under a Read More because wall of text.

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one?Right now only Crazy Ex Girlfriend. I wrote for Criminal Minds under a different name then had a gap of several years. ��I’m pretty far removed from CM now but I can safely say writing for CXG has been a nicer experience community wise (partly a smaller fandom thing and I suspect partly a demographic thing), and there’s more established character stuff to work with because all the character development isn’t like… Crammed in the five minutes they have to work with either side of the crime solving.

3) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer.I don’t really do either, but reader inserts are kind of a squick of mine honestly, so I’m gonna say OCs. I’ve only written OC kids though.

4) What is your favourite genre to write for?I am not entirely sure what this means… Fic genre? Original media genre? I have only ever written romance or friendship stuff for TV shows, an odd balance of fluff and angst?

5) If you had to choose a favourite out of all of your multi chaptered stories, which would it be and why?Mmm let the sun inside has a special place in my heart because it was the thing that got me back into writing after a really long gap and turned out pretty much how I wanted it to. Writing it was just a very intense ‘I am writing again and my brain is on fire’ experience for me.

7) When is your preferred time to write?I would love to have a less dysfunctional answer to this, but probably between 1 and 4am unfortunately? That can’t be a thing on work nights because I get up at 6.30. If I can get myself on a roll early afternoon in a coffee shop though, that’s a better feeling. Just… Less common than ‘the rest of the world around me is asleep and my brain just woke up’.

8) Where do you take your inspiration from?Oh everywhere. The media I write fic about. The stories I read. My life, my friends. The world.

9) In but if you really hold me tight, what’s your favourite scene that you wrote?Oh god I really don’t know. This story is really hard for me to have perspective on because of the ridiculously time pressured way I wrote and published it. I’m probably proudest of chapter 12, where they discuss the ‘do we want a baby’ question properly, because that just… Is an important conversation that you don’t really see in media? I’m not sure it’s the best writing in the story, but I’m glad I didn’t chicken out of it. I also enjoyed writing Rebecca meeting Plimpton Senior in chapter 19, because that feels like an opportunity the show missed and I will never see enough versions of it in fic honestly. (Do you have a favourite?)

10) In but if you really hold me tight, why did you decide to end it like that? Did you have an alternative ending in mind?That one was pretty much always going to end where it did – just because of the format, it was always going to end in a fluffy happy place around midnight on the 1st of January 2021. The last chapter was going to be longer originally, with more characters getting a moment, but it was just getting kind of unfocused – Rebecca POV can handle tone shifts pretty well I think because of the way her brain is wired, but at some point it all just got a bit messy so I pared it back. I think I’m pleased with how it turned out, but the chaos of writing it is still fresh enough that it’s hard to tell!

11) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it?Nah, but I’ve fixed typos (thank you @what-the-elle-n!)

13) Who is your least favourite character to write for? Why?I find Valencia and Paula pretty difficult. I love them, but I struggle.

14) How did you come up with the title - You can ask about multiple stories.(Since it says multiple and since I only have 3 currently…) Everything I’ve published for CXG so far has had song lyric titles – mostly because I am not good at poetic turns of phrase, and I like lyricists who are. (I’m also not a particularly romantic person, and I like lyricists who are!)

let the sun inside is from Ribcage by elbow. The full line is ‘I wanted to explode – to pull my ribs apart and let the sun inside’, which feels to me like that feeling of having bottled everything up for so long that you just can’t feel anything anymore until you kind of break down and come out the other side? And Rebecca = sunshine, so. That is basically the premise of the story, so that was a stroke of luck.

the landing light is from K2 by elbow (I swear I listen to other music, they just have words that really lend themselves to fanfic titles lol). I have a whole meta thing written to publish alongside the last chapter about why this song for this story, but basically the line is ‘Dickhead’s done a runner and he’s wondering if anyone cares – is the landing light on?’ which is just someone far from home feeling a bit stupid and homesick and wondering if there’s anybody waiting at home for him. And of course Nathaniel comes home to a totally miserable situation and there Rebecca is.

but if you really hold me tight… It had to be a lyric from a Christmas song, preferably one Frank Sinatra sang at some point, because that was the playlist I started listening to in mid-October while outlining this madness. So it’s from Let It Snow, obviously, although that exact line is not in that version, ssshhhhhh (he sings ‘but if you’ll only hold me tight’). I chose it because R&N being a team and getting through stuff together in a mostly-fluff-but-not-entirely way was kind of what I was aiming for, and it just felt like it fit.

15) If you write OC’s, how do you decide on their names?I kind of have an OC coming up in a story I’m writing now, and I just… Knew who named them, and tried to choose a name those people would choose. I don’t really do OCs much in fic, but in not-fic (it’s been a while!) I try to go for a name that (1) means something, and importantly (2) I can imagine their parents having named them.

16) How did you come up with the idea for but if you really hold me tight?So a writer I used to read a lot from the Criminal Minds fandom did a Christmas fic a couple of years in a row – one short, mostly fluffy chapter for each day from the 1st-25th of December. So that was the plan. Except as soon as I started outlining it, I knew I couldn’t write an entire month fluffy and problem-free for these two (for anyone, but especially these two), so short and fluffy didn’t stick!

17) Post a line from a WIP that you’re working on.“I’ve gotten better at a lot of things since you’ve been away, but my self-deception skills have taken a real hit.”

18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?Yeah, I abandoned a few Criminal Minds fics. I still feel bad about them actually – I get comments on them occasionally. (On the offchance anyone reading this is someone who feels nervous about commenting on old stories – these delight me in ways you cannot imagine.) I ran out of steam in a lot of ways – I started them without any real idea where I was going and wrote myself into a corner, mostly, but also I was starting to really struggle to write unprompted. I am not the most mentally well person, and I just got my brain into this spirally tangle where I thought nobody wanted to read anything they hadn’t asked for, so I filled a lot of prompts but couldn’t convince myself to write anything else. It feels really weird to think about that now, which I guess is a good sign…

19) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?I toy with following the emotional arc of S4 but following let the sun inside sometimes – that was the plan, when I originally finished it and was panicking that I would never get another idea. Also, but if you really hold me tight created a world of warm domesticity for R&N that I felt really sad leaving behind, so I would probably like to write in the timeline again. And the landing light might get a oneshot sequel, depending on whether I end it the way I think I’m going to or the way I was originally planning to…

20) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently?No, not in this fandom. I’ve only written two endings though! I’ve ended on some real cheeseball final lines in the past though.

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?@heartbash, who can do plot and slow-burn in a way my impatient ass will never be capable of. @justwanted2dance who deserves a million flame emojis and writes BDSM stuff in a way that makes my anxious brain comfy enough to enjoy it (literally nobody else has achieved this). @pictureofsoph1sticatedgrace who writes the loveliest fluff and is a badass individual. @notbang and @anthropologicalhands and @catty-words and @akisazame and @romansuzume who write beautifully and can do those poetic turns of phrase I am not good at. I’ve got to be forgetting someone but wowww there is so much talent and creativity in this lil room. So many people to be inspired by.

22) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it?God yes, but not in this fandom. It’s fine, 19 or 20 year old me, you were learning.

23) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence?Silence. Or like white noise or the Hufflepuff Common Room 10 hour ASMR video on youtube or something lol. Anything with words just ruins me – my attention span is laughable.

25) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story?Ha yes actually, but I’m really not entirely sure why. Sometimes my brain is just a really weird place to be.

26) Which part of but if you really hold me tight was the hardest to write?It depends how you measure hardest, I guess. Several of the smut scenes just said ‘[insert sex]’ for the longest time, sometimes with descriptions? So like ‘[insert feelingsy sex]’ or whatever lol. In terms of getting voices right (like to the point of still being unsure whether it’s any good), this gurl group chapter.

27) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow?It really depends. Usually I know roughly where I’m going and how I’m getting there and that’s good enough for me, but my NaNo fic got an outline because of the format and timescale. And I’m planning a thing with an actual plot arc (gasp!) so that’s getting an outline, in the hope of making it look vaguely romance novel shaped. Basically it depends on the length of the thing for me, and how plotty it is.

28) What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fanfiction?Writing advice: if you’re struggling to move past a particular point, the thing you need to change is probably a few lines back. It’s rarely the last line that painted you into the corner. If you think something needs to come out, paste it into an outtakes document – you might want to put it somewhere else later, or salvage lines from it or whatever, and it’s just easier to let go if you’re not actually hitting delete.

Posting advice: remember fandom is community – everyone is here because they love the thing you love. They’re gonna be excited there’s a new story to read, and they’re rooting for you! (Write the thing!)

29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?Nahh I mean, it’s a smaallll fandom.

30) In contrast to 29 is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at?Again, smaaalll. (Also I try not to publicly eye roll at things other people love even if they are my things – there’s nothing quite like loving a song just for the band to be like ‘ugh I fucking hate that song’, so I always try to keep that in mind.)

31) Send me a fic recommendation and I’ll post it for my followers to see! (The asker is to send the rec not the answerer)You did not send me a rec! Feel free to send me one now! In fact, open call, everyone send me fic recs, even if I’ve definitely read them.

32) Are any of your characters based on real people?Mm no I don’t do OCs.

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?I mean, I enjoyed hearing that someone read my story in the corner at a party lol, especially because it was a chapter I was pretty pleased with and nervous about. Also any time anybody says something I wrote is a headcanon or ‘this should have happened in the show’ is a glittery feeling. When somebody notices a little clue or detail that isn’t obvious, it makes me ridiculously happy. Humans reading my thing then saying something about it is still crazy, so, yeah.

34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten?Story time: my old fandom has this one character who has a lot of pretty hardcore stans. I mostly dislike the word stan but like… Yeah. So anyway, I got an email saying I had a new comment on my ficlet collection (keeping in mind I was in my ‘very unhealthy relationship with feedback’ stage at this point), and clicked on it all happy, and all it said was ‘I didn’t read this because another comment said it doesn’t contain enough *stanned character* and you really should warn people upfront that he isn’t gonna be in it, I’m glad I didn’t waste my time on it’. Which was just… A bizarre comment. Like, commenting to say you didn’t read the thing is weird in itself, but also you list the characters who are in the thing, not all the ones who aren’t?? Anyway, I then went on my tumblr and I had several anon messages that were just straight up hate along the same lines and… Yeah. The Criminal Minds fandom was a strange place. On a related note, have I told you today that I love you, CXG people? I love you.

35) Do you share your story ideas with anyone else or do you keep them close to your chest?I am basically always up with talking stuff through with people.

36) Can you give us a spoiler for one of your WIP’s?This is actually difficult to do right now. There’s a baby?

37) What’s the funniest story you’ve written?I mean, I made myself laugh a couple of times in my festive fic, but I’m more of a ‘this one line is funny’ writer than a ‘this story is funny’ writer. I’m too angsty!

38) If you could collab with any other writer on here, who would it be? (Perhaps this question will inspire some collabs!) If you’re shy, don’t tag the blog, just name it.This question is faaar too terrifying. I’ve actually never collabed with anyone, I’d love to though.

39) Do you prefer first, second or third person?Third. I think because I’ve only written for TV shows, no matter how closely you’re following one character, if you’re seeing them on a screen, you’re in third person. So it’s just an extra struggle to make that jump to another POV for me. I have written my not-fanfic mostly in first though, and I’ve read some lovely fic in first and second. I’m just not good at it.

40) Do people know you write fanfiction?One person.

41) What’s your favourite minor character you’ve written?Hmmmm who is minor, really? I find AJ difficult but fun.

43) Has anyone ever guessed the plot twist of one of your fics before you posted it?I don’t write anything plotty enough for this to be a thing!

44) What is the last line you wrote?“Mm, because you know how irresistible your weird old timey voices are.”

45) What spurs you on during the writing process?I want people to read the thing, honestly. It’s a ‘reach out my lonely haaand’ moment with a little less melodrama. I want it to be out in the world doing what it’s meant to do. I also want it to be finished so I can read it – I get a very particular kind of happy feeling from reading a good sentence I wrote.

46) I really loved but if you really hold me tight. If you were ever to do a sequel, what do you think might happen in it?Lol it felt really weird to type that in there when you didn’t actually say it directly, but you said all so here we are! I’m just gonna take that compliment even though I wrote it… When I started coming to the end of writing that story, I started to feel really sad about leaving behind the warm domestic feel of it, so if I ever feel more domestic fluff coming on, probably it’ll be set after that.

47) Here’s a fic title - insert a made up title. What would this story be about?You did not insert a made up title! Although insert a made up title has potential for Rebecca hounding everyone she knows to help her title a song she wrote.

48) What’s your favourite trope to write?Is ‘let’s have an actual conversation about this’ a trope because that’s my brand so far! I haven’t written anything particularly tropey, I don’t think, although the pull of ‘omg there was only one bed’ is strong right now!

49) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about?Yes! It was a Criminal Minds fic, Hotch/Prentiss, canon compliant (ish) missing scenes kind of deal. I can’t remember the first CXG fic I read, which is ridiculous because it was a lot more recent. I started writing CXG fic before I started looking for it, because I hadn’t been inspired to write in so long that I didn’t want to scare myself away. I read some before publishing, but I can’t remember where I started.

50) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?I can only dream of being mentally stable enough to have a consistent answer to this lol. Angst comes more naturally to me, but writing angsty characters into happy situations is one of the ways I make sense of the world, so… Fluff, maybe, as long as I can keep the characters screwed up, because they just… Are. And like, same.

#anon #ask meme #aggressively writes fanfiction

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johaerys-writes · 5 years ago

Text

The One She Runs To

OTP: Fenris/Rynne Hawke

Summary: Hawke drives Fenris mad. Her broad smile, her barking laugh, the unmistakeable warmth in her coppery eyes- they follow him wherever he goes. And there really isn't anywhere for him to go when he's on the Lady Luck. So he frowns. And he scowls. And he snaps at her, even when he shouldn't really be snapping at her, hoping that this, at least, might keep her away.

But when she comes into his room in the middle of the night to ask for his help, there's truly nowhere else that he would rather be.

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

Alright, alright, alright, so I wrote a THING. It’s about Fenris and @pikapeppa’s gorgeous OC Rynne Hawke, because I adore this pair to tiny little pieces, and hers and @schoute ‘s Pirate AU Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me has given me all kinds of warm and fuzzy feels (if you haven’t read it yet, please please do). The idea behind this one shot is inspired by something that has actually happened to me in real life, and it came to me while I slept after reading the latest Chapter or WTWOFTM. I love this fic so damn much my brain evidently just CAN’T SHUT UP ABOUT IT lol. It also features a little bit of @schoute’s incomparable OC Piper Lavellan, because, frankly, no fic set in this wonderful AU would ever be complete without her.

SO, without further ado, please enjoy :)

Read here or on AO3!

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

Fenris shielded his eyes from the bright sunshine as he walked out onto the Lady Luck’s deck and looked around. Hawke was already waiting for him for their training session. She was leaning over the ship’s railing, gazing at the waves that crashed against its planks. The wind was flowing through her short dark hair, making the chestnut highlights in it catch the light.

“Hawke” he said in greeting as he approached.

A few stray strands flew in front of her face as she turned around, sticking to her lips and tangling in her long eyelashes. She smiled widely, brushing her hair away and tucking it behind her ear. “Fenris!” she exclaimed happily, hopping to his side. “I’m so glad you’re here. I made sure I was on time today.”

Her broad smile made his heart flutter in his ribcage. He frowned, folding his arms across his chest. “So you are. A pleasant change” he replied flatly.

Hawke beamed at him. “I’m so excited for our session today. I’ve been giddy since I opened my eyes this morning.”

“It’s good to get excited, but not that excited. You’ll need to pay attention. Today’s lesson is very important.”

She straightened up, putting on her most serious expression. “Of course! I promise to take this extremely seriously.” Her sombreness lasted only for a moment before she gave him another bright smile and winked at him.

Fenris let out a short huff of amusement and rolled his eyes. He turned his back at her as he walked to the training weapons’ rack and picked up two blunted sparring swords. He handed her one, hilt first, and she took it eagerly.

“Alright” he said, shifting into a sparring stance, legs parted, body facing slightly to the side. “You remember what I taught you yesterday, I hope?”

“Of course!” she replied, mirroring his movements.

“Good” he said, appraising her posture. “Make sure your grip on the hilt is firm, but not too firm. If the edge of the pommel is digging into your wrist, you know you’re clamping down too tightly. And always remember to keep a slight bend in your elbow. You want your hold on your sword to be steady, but flexible. It makes it less likely for your sword to be knocked out of your hand.”

Hawke nodded as she listened to him. Her eyes were slightly narrowed in concentration. “I’m ready.”

With his free hand, Fenris motioned for her to attack him. She lunged forward, the edge of her sword aiming for his shoulder. Fenris dodged her blow easily, stepping sideways. She brought her sword back in to catch him at his side, but he brushed it away with his blade.

With a sharp huff, she lunged again. Another step forward, this time getting close enough for her sword to reach his flank. She slashed at him, but with one quick stroke Fenris knocked the base of her practice sword, causing it to fly right out of her hand. It fell on the wooden planks with a hollow thud.

“I told you to grip it firmly” Fenris told her in a stern voice as she bent to pick it up.

“I did!” she said, her eyes widening in protest. “I gripped it as firmly as I could. I just didn’t expect you to…”

“Didn’t expect me to try to knock your sword out of your grasp? That’s the first thing anyone would do if you were in a fight.”

“Well, when you put it that way, I guess I should have been looking out for it” Hawke said, pouting slightly. She returned to her position, her seriousness once again melting into an eager smile. “Let’s try again.”

Fenris nodded, easing into his battle stance. “Attack.”

This time, Hawke lunged at him straight on bringing her sword up, a fast and precise motion that Fenris did not expect. It was impressive, admittedly. He lifted his own blade to parry hers just as it descended towards his head. The blunted blades rang clearly across the deck as they collided. With a sharp hiss, Fenris’s blade slid forward, its edge stopping only a few inches from her eye.

Hawke blinked at him, then at the sword tip that was hovering ominously before her face. She took a step back, laughing nervously. “That was a close one.”

Fenris flexed his arm and readjusted his grip on his sword. “It was a clever move to attack me from above. But you need to put your back into it, otherwise you’re just setting yourself up for failure. I shouldn’t have been able to stop the force of your blow so easily.”

“Well, I can’t help that you’re so much stronger than me, Fenris” she said teasingly. Her eyes glided over his shoulders and chest before they snapped back up to his face. Her smile faltered only slightly when she met his gaze.

Fenris froze for a heartbeat. Was she just… checking him out? He felt a slight flush creeping up his cheeks. Her lips were slightly parted, and he could almost see her blood pulsing at the soft point in her neck. He tried not to think of the last time he had touched her neck, when he was showing her the best ways to kill a man. He turned around, hoping that his frown was hiding most of the treacherous heat that was blossoming on his face.

“Most people you fight will be stronger than you, Hawke” he spat. He swung his blade along his side, which made a satisfying hiss as it cut through the air. “You just need to anticipate that in every fight.”

“I know, I know. You’re right, as always, Fenris. Let me try again. I promise I’ll surprise you this time” she said with a mischievous grin as her body melted back into a fighting stance.

He nodded sharply, and Hawke, once again, lunged at him.

As promised, she did surprise him this time. Her blade swung around him in a flurry of quick strikes. Fenris parried each one easily, but still, it was admirable that she had managed to get the hang of using a sword after only a few practice sessions. She had a long way to go though, before she could inject into her movements the precision required to hold her own in a proper fight. Their sparring went on for a surprising amount of time before she fell back, panting.

“That’s fucking hard” she said, leaning forward with her palms on her knees to catch her breath. “I can barely touch you with my sword.”

Fenris tried not to let his gaze linger on the thin sheen of sweat at the dip in her collarbone. “It’s hard because you’re not focusing enough” he said, placing himself back into position.

“I’m doing the best I can” she protested. “I really am!”

Fenris brushed the back of his hand over his forehead. The sun shining overhead was boring down on them mercilessly. He could feel the drops of sweat arcing down his back, and the light coloured shirt he was wearing was clinging to his skin. He turned around and walked back to his starting position, thankful for the wind that blew across the deck.

“Again, Hawke” he said sharply before shifting to his battle stance. “And stop gawking.”

Hawke threw her head back and barked out a laugh. “How can you tell when I do that? You weren’t even looking! I certainly don’t realise when I do it. You do have that effect on me” she said with a wink.

Fenris rolled his eyes, trying to keep his face as stern as possible. He could always tell when Hawke was looking at him. It felt as if her amber gaze could see right through him.

“Attack” he commanded.

She knuckled her forehead and stood at attention. “Yes, sir!” she exclaimed before taking her place. She couldn’t help the gaze that drifted down towards his chest, though.

Fenris motioned at her impatiently, and she lunged at him again, but this time she must have been tired, as Fenris knocked her blade from her hand almost straightaway and lunged forward. His own sword stopped only an inch from the base of her throat.

“See that?” he said. “That is a death blow. You allow your opponent too many openings. You need to…”

His sentence was cut short when he noticed Hawke’s expression. Her eyes were wide as she looked at him, her cheeks impossibly flushed. She was panting, the fabric of the light shirt she was wearing stretching over her chest with her every breath. Her eyes slid gently over him, over the tattoos visible on his neck and chest. Her tongue darted out, pink and glistening, to lick her lips.

Her full, luscious lips. They were flushed, just as her face was flushed. The little drops of sweat on her forehead glistened in the midday sun, making her skin look luminous like polished gold. Fenris felt the unbearable urge to sweep in and brush the flat of his tongue over her lips, her perfect, raspberry lips, taste the saltiness of her skin, pull her flush against him-

Fuck, he couldn’t possibly go on like this, lusting after her like a teenager every time they trained. He cleared his throat and took a step back, lowering his sword.

“Our training is over” he said, bending down to pick up the sword from the floor.

Hawke’s gasp was clearly audible. “What? But we’ve only just started! I’ll pay attention this time I promise, I just need a moment to catch my breath-“

“No” Fenris snapped, cutting her short. “Go through the stances that I’ve taught you on your own. I thought you would be ready for sparring, but you’re clearly not.”

The wounded look on her face almost made him wince. He hadn’t intended to be so harsh with her. Her eyes darted about the deck. Several people had stopped to stare at them. Piper was leaning over the railing of the quarter deck, following his every move. Fenris scowled and extended the sword to Hawke.

“I have… work to do. Make sure you know the stances perfectly by tomorrow.”

“Fenris, I…” Hawke started, then stopped. She glanced at the weapon in his hand and nodded slowly before her hand closed over the hilt. The smile she gave him was broad. Broad enough to hide the hurt. “Of course. I’ll do as you say. You know best, after all.”

Fenris turned around and walked away. He thought he heard her sighing as he climbed down the stairs to the inner part of the ship, but it could have been his imagination.

He hadn’t even managed to take a few steps into the relative safety of the ship, when Piper caught up to him. Of course she had watched the whole scene. Not much happened on the ship without Piper’s keen senses picking up on it immediately. Her sharp eyes took in his features, and a half smirk appeared on her scarred face.

Fenris frowned. “Is there something you want to say or are you just here to gawk at me, too?”

Piper’s grin got wider and she leaned casually on one leg. “Look, Fen, you know I want nothing more than having every one of my crew members ready to fight a battalion if need be. But are you sure this was necessary?”

Fenris scowled at her, folding his arms in front of his chest. “What exactly?”

“You know what I’m talking about. The way you snapped at Rynne, I’m surprised she didn’t tell you to sod right off. I certainly would have.”

Fenris huffed in annoyance and twisted his mouth. “She’s… she’s not paying enough attention.”

“She’s really trying though, and you know it.” Piper took a step forward, her troublemaker’s grin easing into a soft smile. “Can’t you be more gentle with her? Maybe give her a compliment from time to time? Us girls appreciate that, you know.”

Fenris felt his blush returning in full force. “A compliment?” he spat. “What do you think this is, a beauty pageant? She doesn’t need compliments. She’s had enough compliments in her life. What she needs is…”

He hesitated. What did she need? Certainly not him barking at her at every turn. He felt bad enough about yelling at her without Piper poking at the wound.

He scowled when he realised he had uncrossed his arms and was brushing his knuckle over Hawke’s red handkerchief on his wrist. Piper glanced at it, then shot him a knowing look. Fenris let his hands fall to his sides and straightened back up. “This is how I do things” he said decisively. “You appointed me master-at-arms for a reason. Let me do my job the way I know best.”

Piper took a step back, lifting her hands up placatingly. “Alright, alright. Don’t bite. It was merely a suggestion.” She made as if to leave, before turning back to clap him on the shoulder. “Next time you spar, make sure you point that sword a little lower. That way you’ll be able to tear her clothes off more easily.”

Fenris could only gape at her as she hopped up the steps, her barking laugh bouncing off the walls of the narrow staircase. He let out an annoyed grunt as he turned away.

****

He didn’t see Hawke much for the rest of the day while he worked inside the ship, neatly arranging their recently acquired cargo. Or, he should say, his efforts at avoiding her were successful. But evening came swiftly, and the crew gathered in the ship’s wide galley to have their supper.

Fenris sat in his corner, like he always did. Merrill had prepared a hearty fish stew that was quite nice, with hard ship’s biscuit to accompany it. Most evenings Fenris would have his dinner with Hawke and Piper sitting close nearby, Piper telling her usual outrageous stories and Hawke chiming in with funny comments while they both laughed their hearts out. He never really admitted it to himself, but he had come to look forward to that evening meal every day. It allowed him to spend time with Hawke in the safety that being around other people provided. He could talk without worrying about how he should act in front of her, like he did when they were alone. He could observe the corners of her eyes that creased as she laughed, that tiny, barely noticeable dimple in her cheek, the slight curve of her upper lip, without worrying about her looking at him in return.

But that night, he sat on his own, like he usually did before Hawke joined the crew. Piper was sitting close to Cullen, teasing him and talking with him in low whispers, no doubt telling him one of her more lewd tales, judging by Cullen’s blush. Hawke, on the other hand, was sitting at the far end of the room with Dorian, Anders and Varric. Dorian must have told her something hilarious, as she tossed her head back and howled in laughter. The sound carried through the wide room, as if she were right next to him. It made his heart thrum with longing in his chest.

Anders was sitting close to her, ogling at her. Jealousy bubbled in Fenris’s veins no matter how hard he tried to stamp it out, with the way Anders looked at her, the way he leaned close to whisper something quietly in her ear.

Hawke did nothing to stop his advances, of course. He had noticed long before that she flirted with pretty much everyone. She elbowed Anders affably, and laughed again. Her eyes caught Fenris’s across the room. Her wide smile wavered for a moment, before a slower, warmer one took its place. Her piercing gaze held him fast, before Anders turned around to find what had drawn Hawke’s attention. All of a sudden, it seemed to Fenris like there was not a ship's galley, but a gulf between them.

It was all he could take. He wolfed down the remains of his stew and walked over to the big barrel of sea water they used to clean their bowls. He washed it hastily and walked out of the room in long strides. He simply longed to be alone, in his own room. Away from Hawke’s laughter at jokes that were not his, her warm glances at people that were not… well, him. The very realisation of how sharply and painfully it bothered him irked him to no end.

He walked inside his small room and closed the door behind him. He leaned on it for a moment, taking a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, he simply stared at the low ceiling of the place he had learned to call home. It was cosy, and tidy, and it felt… safe. It was odd that it suddenly looked so empty to him.

He pulled his shirt over his head with a sigh and tossed on a chair before flopping on the bed. Hawke’s face and the slow smiled that bloomed on it when she caught his gaze lingered in his memory. He brushed it away stubbornly. He was exhausted, and needed rest more than anything. It certainly wasn’t the time for useless daydreams and foolish fancies.

He soon drifted off into a light sleep. Images floated in his mind, warm and fuzzy. He was floating in space, colours warping and shifting around him, soft and indistinct. It was nice and comfortable there. He let himself relax even more, hovering in that endless sea of warmth and colour. And in that shifting, formless sea, he found her. Hawke.

She was smiling, like she always was. Her clever eyes glided over him, sparkling like diamonds in the dark. Her cheeks were flushed, a thin sheen of sweat glistened on her brow. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, making them gleam in the eerie light that surrounded them. He paused for a moment, even in his dream, wondering if he had ever beheld anyone so beautiful.

He drifted towards her, reaching out to her. His arm found its way around her back, pulling her close. With his other hand, he cupped her cheek, running his thumb over her pillowy bottom lip, caressing the line of her jaw, the curve of her chin. She closed her eyes and leaned in to his touch.

“Oh, Fenris” she whispered, and the sound sent shivers of honey-slicked lightning down his spine. She brought her hand up and caressed his arm. In his dream, he didn’t recoil from her touch. In his dream, it felt natural. No, it felt more than natural; it felt good. So fucking good. He leaned closer, helplessly drawn to her slightly parted lips, like a moth drawn to a quivering flame.

When she shook his arm, he stopped short. He pulled back, gazing at her curiously. She looked back at him with wide eyes, and shook his arm again.

One of his eyebrows shot up in question. “Hawke, what…”

She shook him again, more urgently this time. “Wake up” she said.

Fenris’s eyes snapped open, gazing into darkness. It took him a split second to realise that a hand was actually touching his arm. He jolted bolt upright, searching for his dagger in the dark.

“Fenris, it’s me” he heard Hawke saying.

He froze. With fumbling fingers, he stroke a match and lit the oil lamp that he kept close to his bed. A wide-eyed Hawke, her hair still mussed up from sleep was staring at him.

He returned her startled look, his erratic pulse still pounding in his ears from the shock of his violent awakening. It was only when her eyes drifted downwards, and widened even more, that he remembered that he was half naked.

He grunted in annoyance and stood up, grabbing his shirt from his chair and pulling it hastily over his head. “What is the meaning of this, Hawke?” he growled, his voice muffled by the fabric.

Hawke gasped, and let her eyes fall to the ground. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to barge in on you while you slept and scare you half to death. I’m really very sorry” she said again. But when her gaze drifted back up to his chest, where the laces of his shirt where still undone, he knew that she wasn’t, really.

Fenris scowled as he fixed the shirt about his shoulders and crossed his arms in front of him. “I expect you have a good reason for waking me up in the middle of the night?”

“I do, in fact” she said. “At least I think so.” She bit her lip, looking up at him apologetically. The pearl white bite of her teeth over the perfect raspberry of her lips drove a piercing shot of longing through him. He stomped it down tenaciously, his scowl getting ever deeper.

“Well?” he urged her impatiently. “What is it?”

“I… Well, I… Oh, I don’t know how to say this without sounding incredibly daft.” She wrung her hands and looked away. “I think that… something may have bitten me while I slept.”

Fenris frowned at her. Either he was still hazy from sleep, or Hawke was really not making any sense. “What bit you?”

She gazed back at him. He could see now the paleness on her face and the concern in her eyes. “I don’t know what it was! I just felt a sharp sting and woke up. It might have been a spider or a scorpion or… Oh, I don’t know!” She hid her face in her hands.

Worry and affection mingled and ached in Fenris’s chest. “There are no scorpions on the ship, Hawke. Or spiders” he said gently, letting his arms fall to his sides. “At least not the kind that bite.”

She lifted her face from her hands. There was a flicker of hope in her eyes, but it was soon overcome by her distress. “I know it sounds silly. But something bit me. I’m sure of it. I’m just…. Fuck, Fenris, I’m crawling out of my skin just now. Can you have a look at it? Please?”

Fenris almost took a step back, startled. “I’m no healer, Hawke. Why didn’t you go to Anders, or Piper at the very least? She has a chest with healing balms in her quarters.”

She swallowed nervously as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I… thought about it. But Piper sleeps with Cullen most nights. What if I walked in, and found them in a… compromising position, or…” She shook her head. “Let’s just say I didn’t want to intrude. And Anders sleeps like a log. I didn’t want to rouse the whole crew while trying to wake him.”

“So you came to me because I wake up more easily?”

She gave him an uneasy smile. “You’re a light sleeper, and quick on your feet. I know that much about you, at least.”

Fenris let out a short huff. “Fine. Let me see it so we can both get this over with.”

A wide smile of relief crossed her face. Fenris sat at the edge of the bed, and motioned for her to sit next to him.

“Where were you bit?”

“Here, let me show you” she said, shifting around so her back was to him. She lifted her shirt a little and lowered the waistband of her light cotton breeches just slightly.

“That’s where I felt it. On my lower back.”

Fenris swallowed thickly as he examined her exposed skin. It was smooth and golden hued, and a part of her he had never seen before. This entire situation was… so intimate that he felt the familiar blush creeping up his cheeks again.

He took a deep breath, determined not to look any longer. “I can’t see anything.”

“There’s a bump on my skin. I can feel it. Here, let me show you.”

Fenris bristled when she took his hand, but all words were robbed from him when she placed it gently on her, guiding his fingers.

“There” she said. “Can you feel it?”

He didn’t speak as he lightly brushed the part she indicated. There was a tiny, noticeable bump, just as she had said, but he barely paid that any mind. Her skin was so soft and smooth, and… fasta vass, it felt like velvet under his fingertips. It was even better than he had imagined in his dream. Flashes of it came unbidden in his mind, making the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end. Smoothing his palm over the curves of her back, her smiling coyly up at him. Running his thumb over her soft, pliant lips, plucking the bubbling laughter from her mouth with his own. Pulling her against him as he leaned in for…

The urge to let his fingers close over the curve of her waist and pull her close to him was nigh on unbearable. With significant effort, he let his hand fall. He cleared his throat, putting some safe distance between them. “The good news is that this is no spider bite. The bad news is that there are most likely fleas in your bed.”

Hawke spun around to stare at him. Her eyes were wide with shock. “What?”

Fenris let out a short, amused huff. “Fleas have a way of finding themselves in places where lots of people live together in close quarters. Annoying, but relatively harmless. That being said” he added, noticing her bewildered stare, “you should wash your bedding in hot water and take your mattress out on the deck tomorrow to air it under the sun. That should take care of them.”

Hawke scrunched her nose at that, but nodded in agreement. “You’re right. Thank you, Fenris.”

“You’re welcome, Hawke.”

She shot him a warm smile as she pushed the hem of her shirt back under the waistband of her breeches. “You know” she said, looking away, “I lied to you before.”

Fenris frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Piper wasn’t the first person I thought of going to. Or Anders.” She lifted her gaze up to his face. “It was you.”

Fenris peered back at her, his frown deepening. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hawke went on. “It’s silly, I know. You were so angry with me this afternoon, for not following your instructions correctly. The way you frowned at me… not that it doesn’t make you look incredibly attractive, don’t get me wrong” she said, winking at him and earning a deeper scowl from him, “but still. I didn’t want to trouble you any more than I had today. Yet when I felt that sting as I slept, I was terrified. I couldn’t think of what to do for the life of me. And then I thought of you.” She paused for a moment, then let out a soft, quiet chuckle. “Even when you’re mad at me, you’re still the one I run to, it seems.”

Her eyes fixed themselves on him, with an intensity that stole the air from his lungs. He gaped at her for a long moment, lost for words. His throat had suddenly gone dry as parchment. He should probably say something, he realised, or the silence that stretched between them would swallow him whole.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you today” he said, running his hand through his hair. “It was uncalled for. You’re trying your best, and I’m…”

“No, no, it’s alright” she said cheerfully, waving her hand in a soothing gesture. “You were right to. I was indeed distracted. But I practiced for hours after you left. Hopefully I’ll do better during tomorrow’s session. I really want to show you what I’ve learned.”

He gazed at her, then, in the silence of his small cabin. For a heartbeat, she felt as naturally a part of his space as he did. The side of her face was painted amber by the dancing lamp light, her whiskey-coloured eyes glowed like embers in the half dark. Her lips were curled in a smile, one of those slow, tender ones, that seemed to be meant just for him. At that moment, he was certain. She really was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“I look forward to it, Hawke” he said softly, returning her smile with one of his own.

#fenris x hawke #fenris/hawke #femhawke #where the winds of fortune take me #pirate au #piper lavellan #fenrynne #pikapeppa #schoute #johaerys writes

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written-rebellion · 6 years ago

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Perfect Distractions

A/N: sorry for the frenetic-ish posting schedule, work’s been kind of heavy the past few weeks so I end up sleeping on the subway instead of typing the chapters and I fall a little behind on my writing schedule LOL

Jamie chooses his family, Claire does too, and as always, all the facts of this fanfic are contrived specifically to make fluffy university/modern-day au scenarios. Please let me know what you think!

Part One: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] | Part Two: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Three: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Four: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Five: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Six: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Seven: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Eight: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Nine: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Ten: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Eleven: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Twelve: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [ Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Thirteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Fourteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] Part Fifteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Sixteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Seventeen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Eighteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Nineteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3]

Part Nineteen: Relativity | Chapter 4

The sound of the slap was still ringing in her ears, so she hadn’t noticed Jamie’s hasty exit until his back was well away down the fields.

Dougal staggered, more than dazed for a moment before he rounded back to her.

Claire was unmoved, snarling back and him and readying her hand for another blow when—

“Brother,” said another voice down the yard, clear and cutting. “That’s quite enough, aye?”

Claire turned, and there making his limping way over to them, was the man she helped earlier. As he reached them, he placed a hand on her shoulder and she stared, dumbstruck.

“Close yer mouth, lass,” he said with a wry smile. “That was a fine grimace ye had earlier.”

“Brother—” Dougal began, and Claire saw the other man’s sharp turn from mild amusement to something much sterner.

“Sit down ‘afore ye embarrass yerself any futher.”

Thoroughly lost, Claire looked to the faces she knew – Jenny with a mad ecstatic grin and fairly impressed nods from Ian and Murtagh – and feeling bolstered, shouldered her way not-gently past Dougal and ran after Jamie.

There was only one place she thought he’d go and—there!

Standing with one palm flat on the surface of the towering monument to his parents and their love, inches away from the deeply engraved initials forever sealing them to the farm, and to Jamie.

She slowed to a walk some distance away when she caught sight of his red hair against the dark of early evening.

It dawned on her with a sudden pang that he might be angry with her. Male pride had gotten them into this mess in the first place, after all. And while Jamie was – in fact – devoted and sincere to a fault, he was also a man.

Shaking it from her head, she balled her fists at her sides with a sniff and marched over regardless.

He made no move, though there was no way he didn’t know she was there. She walked right up to his large back, hesitating only a moment before gently laying a hand between his shoulder blades.

She felt him let out a breath at her touch and, quite unexpectedly, she let one out too. Connection restored beyond doubt, she pressed her forehead into his back with a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled into his shirt, feeling the vibrations of his dry chuckle.

“You? What do ye have to be sorry about, mo chridhe?”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and felt him take one of her hands in his, raising it to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles as he settled back into her embrace.

“I’m sorry your uncle’s a complete arsehat, for one,” she said, earning a much more genuine chuckle from him but he said nothing more.

She swallowed, wanting nothing more than to have his seemingly supernatural ability to say exactly what she needed to hear.

Here goes nothing.

“But he was right though,” she said, “you are just like your father.”

He turned then, and her heart constricted at the slight redness she saw in his eyes. Her hand floated up with a mind of its own, cupping his cheek.

“And if Brian Fraser had even a fraction of the kindness and heart you do, I’m sure your mother was as deeply in love with him as I am with you.

She saw the words wash over him, knowing quite well he could – without much trouble – hide any emotion however profound, and knowing even better than that, he was choosing not to.

He didn’t have to, not for her.

“You can’t choose family,” she echoed him from earlier that day, “but I chose you, Jamie, and all the family that comes with that. And your mother—” She looked past him to the etched initials in the tower. “—I’m sure she was happy with her choice too.”

He simply looked at her. She could see his throat working out the words, any words, to reply. And, failing that, he took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply.

“And are you, mo nighean donn? Happy wi’ yer choice, I mean.” He shrugged. “I think I may just slit my uncle��s throat for what he—”

She placed a hand on his chest and shook her head.

“As pigheaded as your uncle is, I think I’d be just a little more cross if I could only see you through prison glass,” she laughed softly. “Besides, as I keep telling you, I can handle myself.”

He grinned, and she felt her heart collide with her ribcage.

“Aye, that ye can, Sassenach,” he said with growing approval. “Tell me, mo graidgh, did he make a loud thud when he hit the ground?”

“Actually, he didn’t—” Her sentence fizzed into delighted giggles as Jamie – clearly feeling much better – nuzzled his nose into her neck.

“Can ye still see yer wee handprint on his cheek?”

She yanked him from her by his ears and dragged him back into a kiss, pressing his back into the side of the tower.

They broke apart with slightly gasping laughs.

“We’ll send the Mackenzie off tomorrow morning, as usual,” he said with a nod back to the main house. “But, as for tonight—” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, we can hide in the bedroom now, you bloody ma—eek!”

With a dutiful bend and the widest smile, he swept her into his arms.

“Finally,” he said into her hair.

---

Despite the general unease of their yearly visit, Jamie did always feel a brief dart of sadness when they waved the Mackenzie off, if only because their visit usually market the impending end of summer.

“And because you’ll miss some of your cousins, admit it,” Claire had said that morning with a roll of her eyes. “As crass as Rupert and Angus are, their laughter is quite contagious.”

“Well, ye’re both alone in that regard then, I want them out the minute they get in,” Jenny said as she wiped down the kitchen counter where the three had found early morning reprieve while their house guests finished packing upstairs. “Though, come to think, I wouldna mind seein’ ye clock Uncle Dougal again, Claire.”

Jamie settled into the kitchen stool and watched Claire and Jenny laughing with each other.

Aye, he might miss joking around with Rupert and Angus once and awhile but Lallybroch already housed all the family he needed.

And that dulled the sadness in his chest substantially as he stood with an arm around Claire’s shoulder, watching the Mackenzie clan pile their luggage and bodies alike into their convoy of cars.

True, summer was ending, but the next semester spent living with Claire was just on the horizon.

As if sensing his thoughts, or simply out of exhaustion of not sleeping last night, she let her head fall against his shoulder.

They watched Dougal step out of the house, look at them, and then, turning for a moment to answer someone behind him, lowered his head and trudged to his car.

Jamie was just about to point Colum out to Claire as his uncle appeared in the doorway, when she suddenly slipped from his arm and walked over to help his uncle down the front steps.

Jamie watched with burning curiosity as Claire, all smiles, led Colum to Leticia waiting at the car and waved them goodbye.

“That man ye doctored—” Jamie started as she came back to him.

“Yes, that one,” she answered. “I made him turmeric tea to help with the inflammation in his joints and—and what? What are you smiling at?”

“Aye, it’s nay doubt ye can take care of yerself, lass,” he nodded, “since ye apparently have no trouble makin’ friends wi’ the head of the entire Mackenzie clan.”

Her brows went up as she turned, eyes following the taillights of the cars as they drove, one by one, out of the courtyard.

He swelled with pride, pulling her to him by the waist so he could press a kiss to her temple.

This family, he chose. This one.

He could almost feel his mother’s hand on his shoulder in blessing.

Just one hand though, for the other, surely, was resting on Claire.

[End of Part 19]

Read Part 20

#outlander #outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #jamie x claire #perfect distractions au #wr writing

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psi-psina · 6 years ago

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05/09 Niigata LOTS

SE 詩踏み咀嚼

蜷局腐海理由

New song (zankoku ?) New song (omae) 輪郭 THE BLOSSOMING BEELZEBUB

Ranunculus 人間を被る Punk song (GO MAD) Ash Revelation of mankind

EN 鼓動 The inferno THE IIID EMPIRE Beautiful Dirt 羅刹国

Same as yesterday, I wrote this last night before passing out after eating 3 fish taco’s and 3 glasses of red wine so this may have effected my memory a bit but I hope it is somewhat readable :)

Today was absolute FIRE. The setlist yesterday was better (my fave) but the guys were WAY more into it today, especially Kyo. I am so shit at outfits and I am really sorry. Today I only remember Kyo and Die's because I was closer to kamite in front of Shinya today. (it was so nice!!!) Die wore the outfit from the album promo photoshoot, Kaoru was definitely not wearing his (full) photoshoot outfit and I don't think? Toshiya was either but I can't remember anything else, I am sorry. Kyo's outfit was fantastic, he wore a white sleeveless blouse and his black skinny jeans with the ripped knees and over that his giant alice auaa...suspenders? It’s a big rectangular skirt that he can put his arms through as well, they are fucking awesome and he made WAY better use of them than he did when he wore them in Osaka *__* He wore his rosette badge again, on the front of the suspenders. And he wore his headgear from mode of DSS, with a black hair extension down the right side of his face and his white contacts. He was also wearing his new mac lipstick & gloss combo. I'm not sure if he had his grill in but I think he did? Damn it looked so good! I'm not usually a big fan of headgear on Kyo because I really prefer to be able to see his expressions more freely but even though this gear covers most of his face it actually enhanced his expressions. It just really....suits him? He wears it really well, I love it.

The whole front section of the set was very atmospheric. Niigata's response to Soshaku wasn't quite as lusty as Osaka's was, but ahh people were moving so much during Toguro and just feeling it SO MUCH. BLISS. Fukai was a stand out tonight, I caught Die's eye near the start of it and we looked at each other briefly, I smiled at him and he smiled back <3 he's so lovely. Die got my attention during Fukai today, I'm sorry Kaoru (ILU). The Fukai mosh was also Bliss. Kyo got us to sing a LOT, he called on us in the first chorus and other parts of the song, he screamed for more and ripped his monitor out so he could hear us better and we GAVE IT TO HIM. ❤️ Riyuu got lots of movement as well today, and went down even better than yesterday. Then I think it was during this interlude that everyone was pretty quiet, and then Kaoru sidled up in front of shimote with that cocky swagger of his and there was this sudden ROAR for Kaoru from shimote which got everyone in the middle shouting for him as well 😂 Then Kyo came back to the front and tilted his head back in that demented snarl-grin he's doing lately and everyone roared at him. Then it was time for the new songs again and it was much the same as yesterday, I can't remember much because I was going crazy. >.< They are just too good.

Kyo made the fox 🤘 at the end of Rinkaku when he was calling the demon. Beelzebub was FANTASTIC today! The flatness of Kyo's mood yesterday had a big effect in Beelzebub, but today was completely different. He was a lot more intense. After he bundled up his cord-intestines and dropped them, he was looking down at them sullenly and kind of waved at them. He deeply growled 'kyou wa kono mama nemuri ni tsukitai' in this transfixing pose...it was fucking Amazing (it's really stuck in my memory) and again after 'ugoku kometsubu ni...' he was trying to stomp on some phantom creepy-crawlies again. He went to town on his mouth towards the end, he did not drool everywhere today but rather uh, deeply fingered his mouth and played with his tongue. He was brazenly eyeballing people up on his crate while doing this, he looked right at me and it was UNCOMFORTABLE.

The interlude between Beelzebub and Ranunculus was really...intense? Idk, legit, no one even moved, the place was so enchanted and thick with anticipation it was just...magic. Ranunculus was also more emotional today than it was yesterday, there was a fair bit of movement from the fans and Die was very passionate during the chorus. Then Ningen was up, oh man...Those moments of stillness as Ranunculus closes out and you are absolutely SODDEN with 5 million emotions and could literally just die and then those deep melancholy chords open up Ningen and Kyo steps forward and raises his hand and calls out and everyone calls back and you can FEEL THE INTAKE OF BREATH as the riff comes crashing in and then !!!!! AAAHHH!!!! IT IS BURNED INTO MY MEMORY!! I know a lot of people did not like Ningen but fuck it is so good live, it is SO emotional and the dynamics just COME ALIVE. I really like the sound of the studio ver but it is flawed, and in some ways hampers the song a bit.

The punk song came next and fans were GETTING DOWN, there was DANCING and so much jumping. God it was so much fun and I could see how satisfied Kyo and Toshiya were with the response. <3 Ash was MESSY. Kyo got us to sing excessively and spent a lot of time at the edge of the stage monitor-less which just makes everyone go crazy. The ending thrash was epic, someone behind me grabbed my shoulders and was going so hard they were shaking me (NO COMPLAINTS JUST GIVES ME MORE MOMENTUM). When the song ended they were kind enough to disentangle from my hair without pulling it 😂 Then Revelation oh my god. Revelation is a song I didn't enjoy at all right through 2015 but amazingly it has grown on me and I now enjoy it even though it is still too chaotic and dissonant and exhausting. It's so brutal as a set closer I kind of wish they would just open with it laskdjf. I best remember Kyo shrieking "NIIGATAAAAAA" and at some point someone getting their arm in my mouth asflkjs idk what happened but I definitely got like the sweat of 5 people in my mouth then. Gross. And lol at Kyo making us sing "michinaki michi o" like lkajnfl yes Kyo, stretch us to the very limits of your ridiculous vocal range. The ending thrash was, again, absolute filth and when I emerged all I could see was Kyo towering up there on his crate with this MALEVOLENT look on his face. He turned and left the stage and the other guys followed promptly.

The encore was BEYOND. Kaoru, Toshiya and Die all came out wearing the white goat tee with the sleeves cut, And Kyo changed into a plain black blouse and removed his headgear. I could see at the end he had red and black eye makeup on. Shinya was wearing the white tee with the patches all over it I think. Then Kodou just completely set everyone on fire. skjdnffa. Kyo pointed right at me during Kodou, what even. I clapped eyes with him and Die a few times tonight (it's just where I was) but he really took me by surprise ;_; at the first chorus of Kodou as he was walking around his crate to stand at the edge of the stage Kyo put a hand over his heart and lunged forward pointing right fuckin at me looking me in the god damn eyes as we sang 'KOE KOROSHITE ME O FUSAIDE' together. It was like being ATTACKED. Dazzling. Unbelievable. 😭 He stood right at the edge and ripped out his monitor and sang his heart out going mic-less here and there and looking at people HARD and screaming more more more. Kodou owns my entire soul.

I lost my damn mind again during The inferno, someone had grabbed hold of the back of my shirt and was using my back for support and fuckin growling and I was straight up just snarling and shaking my fist at Kyo every time I surfaced from thrashing. Kyo was having some trouble with his mic tonight (the sound was dropping out a fair bit) but during The inferno it completely died. He turned back to the sound guys gesturing at the dead mic then threw it down and turned back to the crowd and snarled at us without it, gesturing wildly and smacking himself and going down in a crouch and fans went NUTS. And a moment later one of the guys had restored his mic and after a tentative moment (he was shy of the mic for a moment as he tested to see if it was working....it was...Cute lakjsnflgkadf) he was back in full force. All happened VERY quickly and by the end he looked WELL pleased.

My part of the crowd almost collapsed during IIID it was heaving and bouncing so much and the guys started going EVERYWHEREE. Idk if it was during IIID or Beautiful but Kaoru came over to stand right in front of us and the crazed snarls of "KAAAOOORRRUUUUU!!!!" and wordless howling actually made me LAUGH because he totally DEADPANNED us like "Ehh? Is that it??" Then he smirked and went further over to kamite. BITCH. (Eta, pretty sure it was Beautiful actually) Is2g i am lucky my shirt didn't get ripped during IIID because it was insane and Kyo kept shouting for more more more more until he got drowned out by the screaming. I got a bit of nausea/stomach pain briefly towards the end like whelp going a bit TOO hard rn. My throat and the right side of my ribcage/right shoulder blade feel bruised as hell idek what happened. Feels like I pulled the muscles.

Then straight into Beautiful Dirt which was just as fuckin relentless alkjsnf Kyo swooped over to shimote during the second verse and showered them with some attention because Kaoru was over in kamite quite a lot and Toshiya and Die had come to the centre. Even with Kyo right over on Kaoru's side everyone kept screaming "SAIKOU NO BARAADO O OKUROU" with no encouragement every time alskjnf. Had a great moment with Die, he was right in front of us at the very edge and he was looking at everyone with such affection. Such a warm expression and I couldn't help it I just went 'DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE' and flailed at him and was surely smiling like a fool and everyone around me was calling out to him as well and his face just GLOWED lALKJSNFA he smiled at us again and bowed and flipped his hair the way he does and then moved away ;3; Kaoru and Toshiya joined forces at some point, Kaoru lounged on the edge of the crate briefly. I don't know what Kyo was doing after he came back from shimote, it was the roughest part of the song and I was thrashing. I totally get why Kyo gets us to sing "saikou...." every damn time because it's BEYOND EXHAUSTING. He LOVES making us struggle ksdjgnklf.

Kyo's MC at the end was a lot more enthusiastic tonight, he called twice to the men and women, shouted without the mic and did the usual riles and pounded on his chest. He got shirtless for Rasetsukoku tonight and...yeah, it was crazy. I'm struggling to remember anything it was just solid thrashing and roaring from all involved and giving my all took every ounce of energy I had I HAD NOTHING LEFT FOR OBSerVATION. I can't actually remember how it ended or what Kyo or any of the guys were doing until the post concert gift-giving. I did see Kyo's new tattoo very clearly tonight though, it looks good! Kyo stayed back, which was nice. He showered fans with a couple of bottles of water and wiped off all his makeup onto a towel and threw that in. He then got the bucket of water and DUMPED the whole thing onto one guy on the rail in front of him and tossed the bucket in too. He crouched down and slapped hands with the fans on the rail as well <3 I heard him sing out 'bye bye!!' as he straightened up again and i love the way his face scrunches up with emotion as everyone sings bye bye and waves back to him. He left with a couple of fox kisses. <3

Kaoru and Die threw a lot more picks today and I FELT Die's pick in my fingers but it escaped me 😭 A girl behind me just kept screaming thank you thank you thank you all of them. ;__; Shinya and Kaoru were fucking adorable, Shinya came to the front after he threw all his drumsticks with the uchiwa and fanned us! It was! Adorable! Then he threw the uchiwa to the Kyo pit. Kaoru was eyeing him as he strutted around and after Shinya left he took his own uchiwa and fanned shimote with it and BLEW ON THE FANS lksdhfnl he is such! a dork! I love him oh my god. As Die finished up his gift-giving he stood just in front of us and just looked at us, his eyes looked really glassy at the end? I was like, did you cry?? And man he looked tired, and really emotional. But he was just looking at us and clapping and smiling and we started a chant for him and he just looked so....overwhelmed and thankful oh my god. Sweetheart. 😭Kaoru was the last to leave again and he kept stopping and lingering to get that last little bit out of us....GAH. Then we all wobbled out.

To cap this experience as I was going to cloak I stood near a little girl while fumbling for my ticket, who saw me and turned to me, absolutely THRIVING, and said ‘KONNICHIWA’ with the most beautiful smile on her face and I was just like alksjnfliaj OVERCOME and said “konnichiwa sweetheart!!” to her and she like...squealed and just stared at me and her mum was laughing. Her mum said hello to me as well ;3; Fans with kids are the absolute best. The little girl wasn’t wearing a tour shirt but she was proudly sporting the hanged-man muffler towel and was just LOVING LIFE skldjfn. I love her ;___;

Niigata...thank you for these memories. I will always treasure these nights. ❤️

#dir en grey #tour18

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olga-eulalia · 6 years ago

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I’m taking a break from thinking about a Sleeping Beauty AU and looking at my scattered .txt notes instead and there’s a fucking SilverFlint tailorshop AU dated Spring 2017 that I have no memory of drafting and I don’t know whether to be surprised by any of this or what.

“I find myself in need of a new waistcoat and a pair of new breeches.” Their seams had been let out once already and wouldn’t yield more fabric now. "Since these have come to be a bit tight."

"So they are.” Silver’s tone was sympathetic.

I can only assume that the other 5000 words are an attempt to cover up the fact that I only wanted to write one scene in which young Lieutenant James McGraw blushes uncontrollably while Silver takes his measurements. [more snippets, some nsfw, below cut]

But no, apparently not. Because I totally glossed over that moment.

“I’ll have to redo both inseams here,” Silver said, startling him. “If you are to wear these breeches on duty you’re going to want more ease.”

“Of course.”

“It’ll only take a minute,” Silver assured him.

^ Did I want to save it for this scene? The fitting? No, I pan away there, too.

“I’m sure you’ve got some stories of your own to tell?” Silver said, untying the pincushion around his arm.

“Sure,” James said. A sudden lightheadedness made him heedless of the fact that stepping down from the platform brought him almost chest to chest with Silver. “But most of them are very... nautical. I don’t know whether they’d be to your taste.”

“You’d be surprised.”

They looked at each other then and, as the clock on the mantelpiece would attest to, did little else for quite a while.

“I have a lunchtime engagement,” James said, in lieu of kissing John Silver.

There’s a twist in this fic that I did not see coming I’m losing my mind

"I need to ask you something that may be of a delicate nature.”

“Please. I’m not the delicate sort.”

“Since I've been coming here... have there been any inquiries made about me?"

"Three, as a matter of fact," Silver said, never stopping in his sewing. "You're a much wanted man, it seems."

The casualness of Silver’s delivery was outrageous and James’s palms turned cold and clammy as he clenched his hands.

It only confirmed what he had always believed about some of his fellow officers: That they were the rotten offspring of spineless scum who would not hesitate to use any possible means to elevate themselves above others. From the start they had guessed that there was something different about him -- he could see it in their faces sometimes, their struggle to pinpoint what exactly it was that caused their dislike -- and so they’d eventually stooped to these methods.

James's heart was beating in such a rapid tempo that he thought keeping his temper in check might very well make him faint this time.

He had indeed suspected that part of the reason Rackham’s could offer the prices it did was because it sold its clients' information for profit. Which made the circulation of any incriminating gossip at least partially the fault of his own unwillingness to abandon an improbable fantasy.

But Silver was not finished yet. "I told the first gentleman, in no uncertain terms, the same thing I told the others. That I'd never entertained a customer less inclined to such proclivities and that I couldn’t fathom why he’d ever think he’d have a chance with someone like you in the first place."

James's heartbeat stumbled, no longer fully convinced of its ire.

"You were right to assume that such inquiries are not uncommon here, James." Silver was tying up his work. "Though I believe in your case the interest of all three gentlemen was altogether genuine."

Anger and fear left him in a rush. “Pardon?” The idea of there being others like him in his circle of acquaintances made him sit in stunned surprise and the fact that Silver had not only protected James’s privacy, but also purposefully squashed any potential chance he might have had with these gentlemen left him feeling quite flushed.

With a nimble trick, Silver transferred himself from the armchair onto the sofa. Holding out the mended garment, he asked, "Do you wish to discover their identities?"

Resurfacing from deep within his thoughts, James found Silver’s eyes. "No," he said. "No, I don't."

"Good. Because I'm not inclined to share." Silver held his gaze. "You."

🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿 Alright, now I’m kind of into this.

“Tell me, lieutenant, are all your approaches so timid?” he asked, unbuttoning the waistband of James’s breeches in a most casual manner, then moving on to loosen the drawstring at the back. “Because I heard something very different about you.”

“And what would that be?”

“That your manoeuvres are wont to leave your opponents weak-kneed.”

“I’m sorry.” James frowned, wondering since when such an abundance of gossip was circulating about him. “I wasn’t aware we were engaged in battle.”

Silver gave him a lopsided grin.

Inspired by its slyness, James slid his hand higher up, over Silver’s crotch, excited to feel Silver’s cock move when he squeezed it. “Besides, I wasn’t planning on making this a quick defeat.”

^ lol ok I’m never allowed to write banter again.

The ribbon at the back of Silver’s head had come undone and his hair was curling wildly about his face and over his shoulders. The friendly gleam in his eyes had disappeared, driven out by voracity. He seemed to be transforming right in front of James’s eyes, his appearance as a meek and proper tailor relegated to a distant past.

^ Is this another twist?? I don’t know what I was going for here! Was Silver going to be the personification of something???

“Don’t,” James warned.

“Don’t what?”

“I’m gonna ruin all your hard work if you don’t slow down.”

“That’s-” Silver’s eyes twinkled with delight. His lashes grew heavy. “That’s very flattering.”

“Don’t pride yourself. I haven’t really all that much. Not on board.”

“Are you telling me that you’re stuck on a ship full of men for months and won’t let any of them near you? Is being a member of your crew some kind of particularly cruel punishment? All these poor bastards, lying awake at night in their hammocks, cursing you, your handsome face, your stunning body,” Silver said, rearing up and nipping at James’s chin with his teeth. Then, looking James over, his face took on a mollified expression. “And here you are, between my legs, blushing like a debutante. Fuck, James, you’re too much.”

Silver kept stroking drop after drop of James’s lust to the surface and smoothing it down the length of his hot, hard shaft, aggravating the hurt. Squeezing the head of James’s dick, dabbing at the moisture his thumb, he said, marvelling, “You’re giving me so much slick that I could fuck you with it.”

“Stop talking. Please,” James gasped out, already so close.

“I think I’ll let you have my fingers,” Silver said. “Would you like that, James?”

While the breath still shivered from James’s mouth, Silver’s free hand slipped down into the back of his drawers, strong fingers gliding between his cheeks and rubbing across his hole. The waistband of his brand-new breeches stretched frightfully like this between both of Silver’s forearms. As promised, the tip of one thick finger pushed inside him and lodged there immovably.

James keened behind closed lips, a sweet ache pulsing through him. He struggled to keep his eyes on Silver’s face as his hips fell into giving long, smooth thrusts into the fist wrapped around him. And he would have liked to savour that blissful moment very much, make it last by slowing his movements down, but Silver seemed to want to see him undone completely and sped up his hand, jerking him just as fast and sloppy as James needed it to bring him to the point of no return in seconds. His arse cheeks clenched around Silver’s fingers, his body strained with its sinews pulled taut, and his hips pumped mindlessly, jolting forward as he shot out his seed, spilling into Silver’s hand and over both their clothes.

He silenced himself in the crook of Silver’s neck, nestling his face into the fragrant locks there, and for a mad second fancied himself looking at the summer night sky over the southern coast of Cornwall.

Possibly.

Silver was petting his head. “Did you enjoy that?”

James felt like a spit of storm-ravaged rock. Too exhausted to find offence at Silver’s self-satisfaction, he pulled back and rested his weight against Silver’s side, following with interest how Silver pulled off his cravat, opened his pearl-studded button cuffs and then started to unfasten the front of his black waistcoat with his usual deftness before sitting up to shrug out of the garment and pull off his shirt.

James’s breath stopped. Silver’s torso was beautifully marked. Across his abdomen, a ship and a star. On his left side, high on the curve of his ribcage, a swallow adorned his skin. But the most riveting picture of all was that of two large Tritons posing on either side of his chest, holding up an empty banderole that echoed the slope of his collarbones. James’s fingers traced the shape of them, their scaly serpentine tails.

^ Hey, I remember this part! I spent a long time thinking about the perfect motto for that banderole! And it’s entirely possible that my failure to come up with a good one is what brought this fic to an untimely end.

James pressed himself on top of Silver and kissed him for long minutes, making it as filthy as Silver seemed to like. Then, sinking to the floor, he stripped Silver’s hips bare and placed his mouth over the head of Silver’s cock, taking it in one long wet slide to the back his throat. Silver punched out a breathy ohh, sprawling loose-limbed, resplendent in the rosy glow of his pleasure, a tender look in his eyes.

Ugghhhhhh I can’t believe my past self would betray me like this and end it here :(((( Now please excuse me while I take this prompt to the kinkmeme.

#the 'process'#silverflint

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panda-noosh · 6 years ago

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Old Friends {Zarkon x Reader}{Request}

Words: 2931

Genre: Angst

Notes: oof I don't know how to write fluff for Zarkon, so I just went all out on the angst lol. I hope you like it!! x

---

Being dragged in front of the Galra emperor was not how you had planned on spending your Sunday evening.

All had been going perfectly well – sure, you weren't meant to be in the Galra empire, but you thought for sure that your old friend Zarkon would be willing to make an exception just this one time. With the history the two of you had, surely seeing you wouldn't be such a bad thing?

You had woken up, risked a brisk walk around the streets of the empire. It had been just that, though – a risk, a stupid one now that you thought about it. To everyone within the Galra empire, you were nothing more than a fugitive, banished from your home country all because of some false claims that the emperor had made of you in an attempt to get rid of you, just so he wouldn't have to deal with the risk of you exposing him to everybody.

Zarkon had always been that foolish. You had grown up with the man, seen him during his rise as a Paladin all the way to his downfall as an oppressor of his own people. Although you disagreed with the majority of the things he insisted on doing, it didn't mean you were going to throw him under the bus for it all.

But your brisk walk had led to this – you being dragged into the foyer of the emperors ship, two Galra generals on either side of you and a chain dragging along the ground; it truly was a sight to see. You caught a glimpse of yourself in one of the metal shutters, winced at the mess of your hair that had only gotten that way due to the fight you insisted on putting up whenever the generals had made to grab for you. Your ankle was already swollen from you trying to pull the chain from it, and there were dots of blood lining your foot, dribbling down and trailing along the ground as you walked.

He did this. It was him. He was so worried about what you might do, about what information you might expose that he had insisted on putting you in chains. Chains. As if you were some kind of animal, some kind of beast that needed to be kept under lock and key.

You suppressed the urge to snarl at him as the doors to the foyer opened, and Zarkon was suddenly in front of you.

No words could be strung together to describe how you felt in this moment, because everything was conflicted. Your old friend, the man you once knew seated in front of you with a crown atop his head and an evil smirk adorning his face. You had once claimed to love him, had once given him your everything, and he was doing this to you.

You wanted to be mad at him. Wanted nothing more than to pry the chains off of your feet and leap for him, gouge his eyes out with your claws, but there was another side of you that felt the urge to buckle, collapse to the floor and let the emotions take over. Even after all these years, you couldn't rid your brain of the memories he had embedded in your mind, the years of working with the lions where he had given you his everything and you had given it all right back.

It shamed you to say you still recognised that man, even with the glint of evil that had now poisoned his very being.

His eyes never left yours as you were shoved to your knees in front of the throne he was seated upon. Your knees crashed onto the floor, causing you to grit your teeth at the harsh contact. You refused to make a noise, refused to give him the satisfaction of your pain.

“Thank you, guards,” he spoke up, nodding to the generals who had oh-so-kindly dragged you in here. “You can leave us now.”

“Are you positive, emperor Zarkon?” one of the generals asked.

“Why would he say it if he wasn't positive?” you barked, shooting the guard a glare. The guard glared right back at you, the one to your left sending a foot into your ribcage in an attempt to shut you up. You hissed, stumbling a little bit but catching yourself on the metal floor.

Zarkon chuckled darkly. “Yes, I am sure. I want to talk to Y/N in private. It seems like we have a lot of catching up to do.”

As the generals left the room, clearly not too keen on the idea of leaving you alone in the same room as their beloved emperor, you risked a glance at the Galra in front of you.

His metallic red suit glinted under the lights surrounding him, his violet eyes never leaving yours and making you feel as if you had done something wrong. You remembered a time when you would sit in front of him at dinner, the other Paladins surrounding the two of you, but it would never feel that way. It would always feel like it was just you and Zarkon, sending each other sly smirks across the table, silently having a conversation whilst everyone else spoke.

Those had been the good old days, but even now, it was as if he was speaking to you through nothing more than his gaze; old habits died hard.

“You're just going to execute me anyway,” you grumbled out after a moment of silence. “Get it over with. Come on. I don't want to cut into your precious time.”

Zarkon smirked. “Do you think so little of me to believe that I would execute one of my oldest companions?”

“I'm sure you wouldn't have thought twice about ending Alfor's life.”

“Alfor and I had a rocky relationship,” Zarkon replied. “You and I, however, have very strong history.”

You shivered. Hearing him bring up your past like that, with so much casualness, as if nothing had changed between the two of you, was chilling.

“You know, I never stopped thinking about you,” he continued, his voice as smooth as it had always been. “I was always wondering where you were, what you were getting up to. Always wondering what my little Y/N had made of herself.”

“Don't call me that.”

“Oh? We're no longer on a nickname basis?” He smiled to himself, leaned back on his grand throne with his hands folded in front of him. “A shame, but if it makes you uncomfortable, I'm willing to be quiet.”

You winced. “You have a son now, do you now?”

“Lotor, yes. A trouble maker at best.”

“Where is he, then? Does he know about your unfair exile of one of your oldest friends?”

Zarkon pursed his lips. “He knows about you. Knows how I feel about you. I haven't kept my feelings a secret, Y/N, but I have to put my empire first.”

Your blood boiled. You were finding it more and more difficult to bite back the harsh comments, to keep yourself calm. You knew he wanted you riled up, wanted to push a reaction out of you, and it was working. Against everything, it was working.

“You always claimed that you loved me, Zarkon, but you were so quickly to banish me whenever you saw me as a threat,” you growled through gritted teeth. “You knew I had information that could rip your entire little empire to the ground, and you put a price on my head. Tell me how that is love?”

A shadow flickered over the emperors expression. “You can question whatever facts you want to, but you knew I loved you. I never kept that a secret from you.”

You bristled, clenching your fists at your side. “No. No, you just hid the fact that you planned on having me exiled from my home. But at least I know you loved me.”

“Love you,” he corrected, and you were fairly certain your heart had stopped beating in your chest. There was a roaring in your ears from the blood pounding through you, but all went silent as soon as his confession rang out across the foyer.

It burned. It was a physical pain in your chest, a clamp pressing down on every emotion you had tried so hard to shove away for the past few years – after Alfor's death, you didn't even want to return to the Galra empire anyway. Not with Zarkon, not with anyone. You wanted to avenge your friends death, find Princess Allura and help her rebuild the planet that had been destroyed by your people.

And yet you had been dragged back. Your curiosity had gotten the better of you. This was your home, after all. These were your people.

“You have no right to say that to me,” you growled, ducking your head down. If he looked into your eyes now, you knew the game would be over; every single emotion you were suppressing would come to the surface, and Zarkon would know. He would see right through you, just as he had always been able to do.

“I know you feel the same way,” he purred. “Or at least, you once did. I must admit, my little Y/N, that you've definitely gotten a lot better as disguising your feelings. Even from me. The man who knows you better than anyone else on this planet.”

“You have no idea who I am now!” you roared, head shooting up, body lurching forward. The chains rattled, sending pain to dart up your leg and for you to crumble back against them. Your breath was coming out in sharp pants now, sweat lining your forehead, mingling with the tears as they trickled down the side of your head. “You exiled me, Zarkon! You got rid of me, just as you always wanted to! So do not sit upon that throne and tell me you know me when you haven't seen me in the past two years!”

For a second, you were fairly certain you had actually managed to shock the man. Eyes glazed over with something close to annoyance, a muscle twitching in his jaw just enough for it to be noticeable.

But then he was smiling again, that god forsaken grin that had your stomach reeling with a mix of desire and absolute disgust at your own emotions – he had exiled you. He was the man who had destroyed the peace your people once held, the man who had selfishly gotten rid of the girl he claimed to love all because he was scared of her knowing too much.

“You can't deny that we know each other well,” he said. “Even after such a long time apart, I know your secrets. I know your past. I listened to you, Y/N. Better than any of the others did – better than Alfor did. You still looked up to him like he was some kind of god.”

“He was a better man than you were,” you growled out.

“That's not what you thought whenever the team was all together.”

You closed your eyes, resisting the urge to spit in his face. He would send for his generals, have you dragged into the dungeons for good if you stepped out of line. Being in his presence was hurting you, but the last thing you wanted was to endure the torture of being locked behind Galra bars.

So you refrained, slumped down against the floor until your elbows were hitting against the cold metal. Zarkon watched you. You knew he was. You could feel his eyes burning into you as you gave up entirely, let the exhaustion coat your body and grab at your emotions all over again.

“You're right,” you ground out. “I didn't think you were a bad man whenever we were all together. Because back then, you had morals. You wanted to help the universe just as much as the rest of us did.” You glanced up at him then, a dark shadow cast over your expression. “But then the jealousy got the better of you.” He clenched his fists, jaw hardening. “I was never jealous of Alfor. I was never jealous of any of them.”

“There's no point in lying,” you scoffed. “Everyone could see it. You wanted all the power, wanted to take Voltron above and beyond what everyone else wanted – that was what drove you to be the horrible person you are now. That's what led you to drive your people into the ground, Zarkon.”

“My people are thriving!” he exclaimed. “Under my rule, no other race has even dared get close to us. They're terrified. My people are the safest in the universe.”

“You're people are throwing themselves into battles that do not need to be fought!” you yelled. “Innocent Galra are dying because you want to stir up a fight with some innocent planet that you have no right to even be near! You call that ruling? You call that keeping your people safe?”

“I call that dominance,” Zarkon growled. “I love you, Y/N, but I refuse to take scrutiny from someone who was willing to help human beings take down her own people.”

“You know it wasn't like that,” you hissed. “I was helping Voltron, because Voltron is where I belong. It's my home, whether you and Alfor are there or not. And truth be told, the new Paladins are much better than we ever were – they know what they're doing. They can agree on things!”

“They're trying to take down my empire! They've gone against your people time and time again, and you've sat back and watched them do it.”

“Go to hell!” you spat, chains rattling. “They've been doing the right thing this entire time – trying to keep planets from getting obliterated by you! All they want is peace, and you're the only person getting in the way of that.”

Zarkon scowled. “I've heard enough. I want you out of my sight.”

“Thank the Gods for that,” you hissed, just as the Galra generals came bursting through the door. You didn't fight them as they wound their arms through yours and dragged you back, Zarkon yelling for them to throw you into the dungeons to await a later trial.

You didn't look away from Zarkon as you were dragged backwards, didn't look away from the man you once loved more than anything in the world.

---

Zarkon couldn't hold your eyes. For the first time in his 10,000 year reign, he couldn't look someone in the eyes.

He had always prided himself on his stubbornness when it came to getting what he wanted. He was able to intimidate people in the easiest of ways, but the way you were looking at him now had his cheeks flushing and his head ducking down to look at his folded legs.

He had spoken a great deal, but from the moment he had seen you being dragged into the foyer – hell, from the moment he knew you were in the Galra empire – his entire world had crumbled around him, but at the same time, it was like his world was suddenly reborn.

He remembered you so well. Remembered you everyday, suffered through the pain and regret of ever letting you go. It had been him who had ordered your exile, him who had been too scared of the things you knew – because you had seen every single side to him. You had seen him cry, had been the one to hold him as tears ran down his face – tears he hadn't shed in years. Tears he wouldn't let himself shed any more.

But that was back when he was nothing more than a weasel pressed beneath the thumb of Alfor. It was Alfor this, Alfor that. It had gotten to the point where even you had started to look up to the Altean king more than you had ever looked up to Zarkon, and that had hurt. More than anything else, seeing you slowly lose interest in him had hurt most.

He hated himself for yelling at you, hated himself for exiling you to the dungeons, but his people would expect nothing less. His people looked at him, and they expected him to be dominant, to not let anything pass; he had to keep that persona up, even if it shredded apart his entire being, made you look at him with that hatred in your eyes.

Even though you had yelled and snarled and said hurtful things, Zarkon could see that there was still a glimmer of the old you locked within. He could see it in your eyes – sure, you had gotten better at hiding your feelings, but you loved him. You loved him, and he loved you, and he knew that. There was no hiding such an emotion whenever the feeling was so strongly reciprocated.

He leaned back in his throne after the doors of the foyer had slammed shut. His generals swarmed him, asking questions about your fate, but he ignored them all.

He just needed this moment. Just this single moment to catch his bearings, to remember you for the woman you once were. To remember himself for the man he once was – the man you had fallen in love with.

#voltron #zarkon x reader #voltron scenario #request

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