#and only two I've held proper conversations with

[starcollectorsilas]

Tumblr is rapidly becoming my main social media and that's brilliant because 1) NONE of my irl friends are active here, and only one of them even has an account, and that's the one that won't make fun of me and is regularly mentioned in my authors notes and 2) this is my secondary blog so nobody would find it accidentally because it's a completely separate url and name the only thing recognisable straight away is the picture of my cat and my friends wouldn't be my friends if they were observant so I'm in the clear lol

[stsgooo]

moonlit goddess.... maybe jinshi is wondering why his dear maid continues to pull away from him... and maybe gao shun lets it slip that "they shouldn't have been close that day anyway".... and jinshi pesters him until he folds n explains.... IDK I JUST WANT A HAPPY ENDING FOR THOSE TWO :((((( (not forced ofc!! i jus love ur writing!)

Bridge the Gap.

✩࿐ summary: life and death really makes a girl wonder.

warning(s): idiots in love, chapters 61-65 manga spoilers, master/servant like relationship, description of near drowning, suggestive content, ambiguous ending. wc; 9.3k

pairing(s): jinshi/fem!reader.

a/n: tysm for reading my fics means the world to hear ppl actually enjoy them, anon!!! ;') i wasn't really going to make a 2nd part of moonlight goddess as i thought it was okay to leave off there, but i love jinshi sooo i'll take any excuse to write him. this was initially going to be a part 2 of clumsiness, but i figured my plans worked better with what you were envisioning! im not entirely sure how to feel about this, but i hope this lives up to the standards! i apologize for any mistakes, this was written mostly in the early mornings when i had time!

part i. m.list

"Are you sure I'm not hurting you?"

"Y/N, please, stop asking me that."

"Oh, yes. My apologies, Jinshi-sama. Sorry."

This were, admittedly, not going well. Both of you soaked, hair dripping, and standing in the cave behind a rapid waterfall, and a dull ache in your chest as you recovered. Partly your fault, partly the fault of some crazed marksman that was hiding in the forest, trying to slaughter Jinshi and, by proxy, you.

To understand how you two ended up in this situation, we would have to back up a bit.

"Oh? Y/N, I didn't know you'd be attending this as well?"

"It was a last minute switch with Suiren and I."

"You... enjoy these hunts?"

"I've done everything I could to avoid them in the years past."

Your lack of excitement was apparent and clear. It appeared to bring no ease of mind to Maomao who dragged her rather disgusted eyes from you towards Gaoshun. The older man just kept his attention on the moving scenery outside, a distant glaze over his eyes.

Maomao obviously wasn't optimistic. Just like you. You were almost proud that she had caught on so easily.

The sweltering heat outside seemed to seep into the carriage, cooking you alive in your rather formal wear. Something that you were spotted in far and few, having been years that you truly cleaned yourself prim and proper. You had been on the edge of declining even going when Jinshi, with a grin and a certain glitter in his eyes, had too happily informed you that it was a direct invitation from Shishou.

Your fate had been sealed.

Maomao peeked at you from the corner of her eye, head tilted, "Do you mind me asking why you avoided these events?"

You don't even spare her a glance, "I fear if I spoke my honest opinion, I'd stain Jinshi-sama's reputable name with my foul mouth." You reply flatly in return.

"Please don't." Gaoshun said softly from his seat, looking particularly tired.

You decided to ignore the slump of Maomao's shoulders as if disappointed by the swift interruption and decline on Gaoshun's part. Turning your eyes towards the shifting world outside.

It'd been exactly five months since Jinshi had danced under the moon and you came to the conclusion that any impure thoughts you held for your master would be safely tucked away in the back of your mind (and heart). Forever your secret. Only to be heard in your dreams and upon your death, when you repent for any ill thoughts to the Great Man above.

Everything had returned to its normal routine. You would get up in the morning, prepare breakfast alongside Suiren, eat, then proceed with any chores the woman gave you for the rest of the day, then repeat. Equally, your relationship (or lack thereof) with Jinshi had remained the same. Conversations filled with pleasantries. Simple things that had always lingered between the two of you since you were children. Pleasant and simple. As the world shall ever be.

It got a bit ruffled with Jinshi had cornered you and practically ordered that you come to the hunt instead of Suiren.

In the middle of scrubbing away at the floors, he had found you. Stood above you with that grin, “Y/N, you’re one of my most loyal servants, hm?” He’d begun with an inflection in his tone that made you horribly hesitant.

You had faltered in your scrubbing to stare up at him with confusion, “Uh…well, I suppose, Jinshi-sam’s.”

“Why don’t you join me for the Hunt this up coming week?”

Your had heart dropped. And, by the look Gaoshun had dawned, his had too. The Hunt, in your humble opinion, was a glorified weekend for the men in high positions to rub one off while killing animals. It wasn’t something you found interesting in or much grace. That’s why you had declined Suiren’s question on whether or not you’d like to take her place only three days prior. You had no interest in watching anyone, even Jinshi, size each other up while a defenseless animal bled.

“Jinshi-sama, I believe Suiren—“

Ever the gentleman, he had cut you off, “No worries, Suiren agreed to take over matters while you’re gone! She’s the sweetest, right?” He had appeared all to eager and all too himself for you to ignore.

So, with a heavy heart, you’d sighed, accepting defeat and his invitation.

Now, you would find your torture for a multiple day retreat with a bunch of men with their c—

The carriage came to an abrupt halt, bringing an unruly end to your thoughts as you all carefully exited and were greeted by the sunshine. The humid air heavy with the condensation of the area and already making a sweat appear on your brow. But, ever the lady, you pleasantly tuck your hands into your sleeves and follow behind Gaoshun and Basen.

You were a little surprised as Maomao stuck closely to your side; but not all too surprised to find her attention on your surroundings, vague surprise in her eyes. The area was as equally as beautiful as it was a burden to you.

The buildings weren't anything for you to revel at. Spending an entire lifetime within palaces and in buildings as equally or above standard to those, it just wasn't anything special. The nature surrounding the area, however, was something to stare in awe at. Lucious trees, beautiful grass, and beautiful array of plants and flowers. It almost made you regret all the time you had spent away from this place.

But it wasn't like you had the chance to truly return since the last time you were here. Nothing could bring back that little girl.

You deterred your thoughts away as Gaoshun slid the door open. Immediately, you were hit with a wave of heat that you made you tense up. It was apparent that you wouldn't find your much needed cool down you were desperate to find since you were confined in the carriage days prior.

You were the last to enter and when you did, you faltered at the sight before you.

Jinshi was sprawled across the couch, wisps of his dark hair framed his sweat glistened face, eyes closed in contempt. A small dent appeared between his eyebrows and a frown adorned his face. However, your attention was caught on a drop of sweat that made its way from his hairline, down his cheek, his jaw, his long slender neck, and past his— his collar.

His modesty was of no worry, apparently, as he laid with his robes parted open to reveal his chest. Itself was glistening with sweat. Delicate skin on showcase for all to see. It brought a soft blush to your cheeks, as you blatantly ogled him. Pressing your lips together to contain whatever thoughts you had about him from burst from your seams.

"Y/N," Jinshi's voice hit your ears, tender and smooth. You're suddenly hyperaware that he's staring at you with raised brows, lids peeked open to stare at you.

You straighten your back and offer a bow, "Jinshi-sama. Do you require anything?" You had to get it together. It was inappropriate to behave in such a scandalous way. "Request for ice? Tea?"

Jinshi shook his head, sitting up, "No, rather I'd like for you to rest after such a long journey."

You falter, your arms wavering from their position in front of your face, "Uh.... Wouldn't the room be more tolerable with some ice?" You spare a glance around the room and grimace. The windows are shut tight, only bits of sun peeking through the cracks. Basen looks rather miserable, but trying to appear his usual stern self. While Gaoshun and Maomao seem rather okay with showcasing their small discontent with the heat. A nice cube would help at least cool down a bit.

You also couldn't stand another second seeing Jinshi like that. As if he were some type of nymph testing your faith.

"Really, it's fine—" Jinshi attempted, but you were already turning on your heel.

"I will return with ice." You didn't miss the way Jinshi's face fell and his eyes cut to Gaoshun who shook his head in return.

Your fast paced adventure led you to the main hall, where people were moving in and out. Various officers and servants filled the area, finding their rooms or helping their masters and fellow officers to their own rooms. Everyone appeared to be feeling the heat as they wiped their brows. Much like you, they appeared to be attempting to defeat the heat.

You found your way towards an attendant who helped you get something situated for Kousen. Something that brought you both distaste and irritation. Something to be addressed at a later time.

Joy filled you as you turned around, ice would soon be in the room and you could crowd around it like it was a new lover.

As you were about to make your way back to the room, you ran into someone.

You were about to apologize when they whirled around and you let out an audibly sigh that conveyed your unwavering exhaustion for them.

"Hey, watch where— Oh, hey, " Lihaku blinked, kind face twisted up in vague recognition. “You’re that lady-in-waiting. What are you doing out here?”

“I’m on loan from Jinshi-sama,” you answered rather flatly, not missing the small frown accompanying the man’s face.

You were vaguely familiar with Lihaku. What with Maomao getting involved in the problems within the inner and rear palace, you were bound to make new acquaintances when she was dragging you around. Lihaku was the first one you had ran into. On orders to accompany the girl from Suiren, you had gotten to see her investigative skills firsthand. You were impressed, surely, when she had made the discovery about the potatoes. But the impression was overshadowed by Lihaku, who had spent the entire time chatting your ear off.

He was kind, handsome, and smart when it called for it. But you could tell that, like most officers, he had an airheaded vibe to him. One that deterred you from making things too complicated with him.

Friendly enough, and one of the few people that didn't seem to disinterest Maomao, you accepted his very vague and shadowed feature in your life.

"Well, that's nice of him." He said, clearly disinterested in where this conversation was going. "I'm glad to see a friendly face, though."

You offered a small smile, "As am I. Not many kind faces around here often."

"You can say that again." You hear a loud inhuman snort and a tug on your gown, taking a large step back, you look down. A large dog with drool leaking out from the sides of its mouth stared back at you. "Oh, hey, boy, no!"

"O-Oh my." You uttered, slightly breathless as you looked at the large beast.

Lihaku glanced at you, offering a withering smile, "Eh, sorry, he gets excited around new people— not a great trait in a dog like this, you would think, but he's a real gem. Just has his moments. Hey, now—"

Lihaku pulled out something metal and brought it to his lips, then blew. It emitted little to no sound, at least, any you could truly hear, making your perk up when the dog tilted his head and sat respectfully before the officer. He blew again and the dog laid. Again, and the dog stood on all fours.

You smiled softly, watching in wonder as it obeyed whatever silent orders it was getting from Lihaku.

"He's very smart." You observed as the dog sat down again.

"Right?" Lihaku beamed, "I can get him to come running from kilometers away if need be."

"Useful when you're in a bind."

"For sure!" Lihaku's demeanor reminded you of a proud father as he puffed his chest and looked distastefully towards the cages lined up outside. "He's real smart, yet they still want to use those birds in the end."

You didn't want to point out the various problems that could come with using a dog; as there were probably another list of various pros to actually use the dog. The hawks had been used for years and you doubt that some dogs would be taking their place any time soon. It'd probably be a long time before these arrogant men came to their senses and found better means. Despite dogs being loyal and determined to their cause, the hawk would always be chosen.

Or, the better alternative, they didn't do this hunt anymore.

But you knew that was a longshot.

It wasn't long after that you bid Lihaku a farewell and good luck on his duties, making your way back to the room. You exchanged pleasant smiles and greetings with familiar faces, but nothing that kept you from relaxing much longer.

When you returned to the room, everyone had found their own areas and activities to occupy themselves. Gaoshun and Basen were playing Go near the windows, Maomao was reclining on the floor where a sliver or air was flowing through (from where, you weren't completely sure). Jinshi was back to sitting on the couch, a book in his hands. Something that was quickly disregarded as you gently closed the door behind you.

"The ice should be up soon." You informed the room with a respectful bow.

Jinshi didn't look at all interested, "What took you so long?" It sounded like contempt. Irritation if you had to really dig. Something that made you falter.

You look up and see the pout on his lips— childish, as always. "Oh, I'm sorry, Jinshi-sama. I happened to run into a friend and got caught up in conversation." You apologized softly. The last thing you wanted to do was bring him more annoyance and disturbance.

He straightened considerably, "A friend?"

You didn't like the way it was spoken. A touch of disbelief was enough for you to eye him with your own distaste. Even if you and Lihaku were nothing more than strangers with vague familiarity with one another.

"Yes, a friend." You confirmed with thin lips. Despite your inner voice telling you to reign in your attitude, you upturn your nose and decide to join Maomao— whose eyes were shooting between the both of you with trepidation and vague sympathy. "He was being kind."

Jinshi huffed, "I didn't know you had any secret friends."

"Not a secret. Just don't find any time to speak about it with you, Jinshi-sama."

That made the man falter, a darkened shadow over his face. "I suppose." He frowned heavily now, squinting at you with something unreadable. "Who is this friend of yours?"

You, finding no reason to lie, continued on, "Officer Lihaku."

In an instant, three heads snapped to you with varying degrees of emotions. Maomao looked shocked, but welcomed the information with a shrug. Gaoshun looked pale and overwrought, for whatever reason you weren't entirely sure, but you had an itching feeling it had to do with Jinshi.

The same Jinshi that was now face down on the couch, letting out a miserable sound. Speaking into the fabric of it all, unintelligiable. But you swore you heard something along the lines of— "that second rate, again?!" As he continued to rant and cry.

With that, you decided it best to not involve yourself with whatever Jinshi was battling. You wouldn't win anyway.

You'd always hated Kousen-sama.

He almost always seemed to loom in the shadows. An masked man who held no personality or words of his own. Pleasantries offered out of necessity and not because that was simply the right thing to do. He was mysterious. He hardly appeared, but he was always there. A reminder for what things would return to one odd day. A symbol for exactly where your loyalties and master lied.

Kousen-sama was to always appear before others with his mask on. To avoid them seeing the ghastly sight of scars and blemishes that adorned his skin because of his sickness (whatever that may be) and spare him the indecency of stares. He was unmoving. Stone amongst he lively environment that ate away at their lunches and softly conversed with one another.

Prince. The respectable Kousen-sama. The great son of the empire. The brave prince against all odds.

Oh, how much you hate Kousen-sama.

But you still had woken up early to help him pin his hair back. To slip his robes on. To delicately place the mask on, fingering the bangs out through the slits to allow some type of familiarity. You were his confidant. His reliable and kind servant.

As always, you and Basen stood behind Kousen-sama with your backs straight and eyes ahead. A pleasant servant on loan and stern guard, you both were familiar faces against the unrecognizable figure in front of you. It reminded the people exactly who was before them. Exactly who had decided to grace their presence.

Still, it brought you discomfort.

You still eyed Gaoshun in the corner of you eye. The older man sat at the other end of the table. Maomao standing behind him with a distant look in her eyes, obviously not paying attention to the things happening around her. Not entirely surprising, but you felt the overwhelming urge to scold her for her lack in etiquette.

Oh, you're starting to think like Suiren, aren't you?

Suddenly, Basen is tensing up beside you and Kousen-sama is turning his head away from a scowling Shishou. Your eyes snap between the two with a scowl of your own. Whatever that man had said—

Kousen-sama's hand clenches. So tightly that his knuckles turn white and he shakes. You know something isn't right. You had missed something. Something so obvious and you were too concerned about Gaoshun.

The man stands from his chair, the legs loudly clattering against the tiled and stone floor. You watch uneasily as Kousen-sama raises, takes a moment to collect himself, then practically speeds away from the room. You don't waste a moment to bring your sleeve covered hands to your mouth and make your own exit.

As you pass a concerned Maomao and Gaoshun, you hear a barely uttered whisper from the girl— heat. Food.

You try to hide your confusion and worry as you follow behind your master.

It doesn't take you long to find him.

Down the path, up against a tree, the masked figure was hunched and obviously breathing heavily. You draw closer, outstretching a hand to gently press it against the large expanse of his back.

"Kousen-sama, are you quite alright?" You ask softly, hunching slightly to capture a glimpse of his eyes from that slit in the fabric.

When you do, you're almost breathless. His violet eyes are alight with something distant and scornful. Eyebrows furrowed as he meets your own gaze.

"Y/N...?" He sounded vaguely surprised under it all, breathless himself. As if he couldn't quite believe that you were here in front of him.

You nod once, reaching out and grabbing ahold of one of the ties keeping the mask all together. "I'm going to remove this. No one is around."

His hand is suddenly wrapped around your wrist. Not tight or unrelenting, but enough to make you freeze. Warm and clammy skin against your own to make you feel scorched. You don't need to see his entire face to know that his jaw was clenched now.

"I can't," he said in all his self-assuredness, "Someone might still come."

What a pain. You thought to yourself as you draw in a heavy breath.

You don't waste a second to slip under his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders and allowing him to lean most of his weight against you. "No worries, sir, I'll just find us some place where no one else is around."

You gently guide Kousen-sama from the line of trees and deep within it. Finding an oddly familiar path created within your mind to follow that takes you towards an overflowing waterfall. A loud crash of water hitting the rocks and body of water below that brought you a distant sense of comfort. The refreshing smell of the water hits your nostrils and you take a deep breath.

With Kousen-sama against you, you felt the sweltering heat hit you tenfold. But the mist from the waterfall brushed against your skin like a gently caress from an old lover.

This is it.

You stumble over to one of the few trees next to the waterfall and gently guide Kousen-sama to sit up against it. The man took a heavy breath and you finally felt a little at ease. Reaching forward, you moved to take the cloth off once again and then—

A loud thud and chunks of dirt hit your cheek.

You frowned, looking to the ground only a could feet away and saw a small crater. A sharp smell filled your senses and you stiffened. It was an unkind and almost putrid scent. The smoke from the small crater was the main cause.

"Eh—?"

You were suddenly cut off as Kousen-sama wrapped his arms around you, jerking you upwards and away from the tree. You would've basked in the way his body was pressed against your back or the way his fingers seemed to mold into your abdomen— you would've if it weren't for the loud crack in the air then the pieces of bark that flew through the air around you.

The tree that he had been pressed up against only moments ago was now split open with a piece of metal imbedded into the wood. It looked eerily similar to the same that had been in the ground moments ago.

"Is that a feifa?!" His voice pierced through your thoughts, oddly frantic and uneasy as he moved quickly from the tree and towards the river.

You glanced up at him and found him already staring down at you. Eyes narrowed and, if it weren't for the mask, his entire face would be scrunched up in that familiar distaste and panic. Yet he seemed eerily calm as he dragged you through the trees and into the water.

"Sorry, but this is gonna get a bit dramatic." His voice was soft against your head, warm breath caressing your hair as he wraps a protective arm around your head.

Your eyebrows raise, "Dramatic— WHAT?" You should've known his tone and choice of his words were a warning for what was to come, but you were still caught off guard.

He gave no indication that he was going to jump off the cliff.

"Jinshi, you goddamn idiot!"

You mustn't get ideas above your station.

The water was oddly clear. Even with the mix of the overflowing waterfall, under it all was peaceful and calm. Fishes and water like insects lived in harmony.

Cool and calm. Always.

You are there to serve your master.

The little boy's head burst from the water with a big grin, short hair flat against his head and dripping. The sun reflecting off his violet eyes and almost blinded the little girl curled up on the side shore. Her face set into a scowl, clothes drenched, and a looming unimpressed older man behind her.

"It's so nice out, why don't you come in!" Beckoned the boy from the water.

The little girl shot him a nasty look, "You know why, you jerk!"

The boy's grin faltered, tilting his head at his friend, "Eh? Why are you being mean?" His voice wavered on the ends, still just floating in the middle of the basin.

"I'm not mean! You're mean! You're the biggest meanie!" The little girl stood up to throw an accusatory finger at the boy, her sleeve heavy and uncomfortable as she moved.

The boy's face reddened, eyebrows scrunched together, "I'm not mean! You're mean!" He repeated.

"No, you are! You're the biggest meanie in the whole wide world!"

"No, you are!"

"You are! You pushed me into the water!"

"You are! You should swim!"

"I hope you drown, meanie!"

The boy's expression fell completely. A heartbroken glint in his eyes flooding them. His lips trembled. But, before he could do something like cry, he was already swimming deeper

Nothing less, nothing more.

"Now, now," a large hand rested on the little girl's shoulder and gently tugged her back, turning her around to face the man. He seemed to be trying to appear as tender as he could to try calm down the girl's high nerves. "No need to get angry."

"But, Gaoshun—" The little girl whined.

Gaoshun shook his head, patting her shoulder, "No, we don't argue. Try to forgive and forget, yeah?" He reminded the lessons that he'd attempted multiple times to teach the two children. "No reason to walk around with resentment for others, right?"

The little girl scoffed her shoe against the ground, a pout on her lips, "Do I have to, Gaoshun?" She knew what this would call for. Exactly how this would end for her.

The man heaved a sigh, nodding, "Yes, you do. Now, go reconcile. I'll wait here."

The girl faltered as the man raised to his full height, cupping his hands behind his back. She dragged her feet through the soft soil and found her way towards the boy once more. He was grasping onto the edge of the bank, sniffling and snorting. His shoulders shook and his face was stuffed into his arms.

The little girl frowned. "Um... Are you okay?"

The boy stiffened, not turning around as he answered, "No."

"I'm sorry, I said something real mean." The little girl uttered, stepping closer as she clutched her wet clothes. "I just... You pushed me into the water, I can't..."

"I thought you were my friend!" The little boy whirled around on her, face red and eyes filled with big tears. He looked enraged but incredibly disheartened. The girl blinks in return as the boy glares. "You say such mean things to me. Friends aren't supposed to be mean!"

The girl clenched her jaw, "You were mean to me first!" She accused.

The boy sniffled, wiping under his nose with his forearm. "You're my friend." He repeated as if that cleared up any anger.

Nothing more, nothing less.

The little girl slowly sat beside him, her feet dipping under the water. "It is nice." She whispered.

The little boy dragged his eyes upwards, looking hurt but hopeful. "Right?" he asked, equally as quiet.

"You're my friend too, Jinshi." The little girl nudge him with her leg.

Jinshi's eyes twinkled, wide and all too bright, "Really?"

"Really." The little girl confirmed with a toothless grin. "My friend forever and ever!"

Jinshi positively beamed, the water sloshing as he jumped happily. "Forever and ever, and ever!"

"And ever!"

"It's no longer... appropriate for you and Jinshi-sama to be friends."

"I don't... I don't understand. He's my friend."

"His mother no longer finds it appropriate for you to concern yourself with Jinshi."

"But, Gaoshun—"

"No, Y/N. It's over. Come along. Suiren has a present for you."

"He's.... He's my friend...."

"I'm so sorry."

You are to give your life to your master.

The woman paused, back pin straight, as she entered her master's office, finding him curled up in the corner, muttering nonsensically to himself. The guard of said master was watching on with a pitiful expression of his own, only breaking his eyes away when the woman entered the room. His expression only seemed to deepen.

She didn't need to ask. There was an unspoken understanding as to what their master's breakdown was regarding. The Apothecary. The one that had gotten the attention of everyone in the palace as of late. The one that had been causing her great grief as of late— and was about to create more.

"Jinshi-sama?" The woman called softly, stepping closer.

Jinshi's lifeless eyes continued to stare at the floor below him. A gentle rocking seeming to soothe himself from the rages of his mind. "I don't need anything, Y/N. Thank you, kindly." He uttered just as lifelessly.

The devoted servant's chest clenched. Her face flushed as she reached out a wavering hand. To place it delicately against his hunched back. To offer her best comforting words that she could. To distract him away from her.

Any inappropriate behavior will be punished, severely.

She faltered. This wasn't her place. This wasn't a part of her duties unless Jinshi said so. Inappropriate behavior wasn't called for. It will be punished severly.

Retracting her hand, she stands, and offers a respectful bow. "Please call me if you need anything, Jinshi-sama." And left him in his dark corner.

"Gaoshun, may I ask you something?"

"Of course, Jinshi-sama."

"You have been in my life for as long as I can remember. You remember more than I possibly could about my younger years. Whatever happened to cause me and Y/N to fall apart?"

"...."

"It had to be around the time I was eight that I noticed we were growing apart. Even now, I see it so clearly."

"It's been a long time, Jinshi-sama. You're no longer children."

"All the more reason to know, isn't it?"

"I don't know...."

"Gaoshun, nothing will come of it. I'm simply curious."

"..."

"I'm sorry to put you in this position. Please return to what you were doing."

"Jinshi-sama.... you might not like the truth..."

"I usually don't."

"Where to begin.... Before her eighth birthday—"

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"H....E—"

Everything felt so muffled. Faraway. Featherlight.

Was that a pressure against your chest? A thump that came into quick successions, then stopped. For something soft and ever so delicate to press against your lips?

Everything was distant. So far away from your grasp. From your state of being. As if you were already long gone from whatever reality you were in moments ago.

"H—"

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It was almost like floating. A gentle sway and a crack.

A joyful gliding against the sky that soothed you away from worries and woes.

Thump. Thump. Lips.

Repeating endlessly. Happily. Wetly?

Thump. Thump. Lips.

You welcomed it. Whatever it was. Whatever kept the rhythm. The wonderful rhythm.

Thump. Thump. Lips.

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Thump. Thump. Lips.

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Thump. Thump. Lips.

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Thump. Thump. Lips.

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Thump. Thump. Lips.

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Thump. Thump. Lips.

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THUMP. THUM—

You shot up with a cough.

Your throat burned and head ached terribly. Your eyes almost felt like they were about to pop out of your head and roll away. You felt horrible.

It didn't help that you were drenched from head to toe either.

Beside you, there was a heavy and loud sigh of relief as he fell to his backside. He let a silence fall over you both as you recovered, hand pressed against your throat and heaving.

Jesus. Had you almost...

The thought alone almost made you sick.

"I'm sorry. I thought.... I didn't think you still couldn't swim." His voice was soft, barely heard over the waterfall. Kind and cautious, worried and terrified. Things that seeped from his tone as if it were bleeding out and bearing all its insides to you.

Exposing him to you.

You peeked over your loose strands of hair to glare viciously at him. "When would I have the time to learn to swim?" You shot back ruthlessly, not entirely caring from etiquette in this moment. "You've lost your mind."

"Right." Jinshi immediately agreed, almost looking fearful as he watched you.

You push yourself up and take in a deep breath, coughing slightly at the burn of your throat. Taking in your surroundings, you swore that this was that—

"Are you really alright?"

You glanced back at the man and found him still sat on the damp ground. His eyebrows are furrowed and a small frown on his lips as he stared up at you. It made you uncomfortable. To see such a glittering violet staring back at you earnestly. Honestly.

You instead clutch onto your dress, "Suiren is gonna kill me." You scoff, tugging the garments apart.

You could hear Jinshi sputter behind you. The gravel and dirt below him crunching as he probably scrambled up from his spot.

You spared a feeble look over your shoulder to find him with his eyes clenched slowed, hand covering your body from his gaze. You snap your gaze back around and tug the fabric a little too hard as you scoff.

You wouldn't deny the pang of hurt that clenched your chest.

"Don't worry, Jinshi-sama, you won't have to see my unruly body of mine for long. I just want to make sure Suiren doesn't slaughter me when we return."

"I— No, I'm just— okay." He finally muttered.

You are stripped down to your underthings, placing the dress and various pieces on the ground as delicately as you can to avoid too much dirt being stained into the fabric.

As you place the last bit of clothing down, you hear the flutter of fabric behind you.

Jinshi is a bright red, gently tossing his robe down behind him. His back is facing you and you know its for whatever mock sense of modesty he wants to give the both of you. You instinctively reach out and take his robe in your grasp, twisting it and squeezing it to watch out a fair amount of water drip out.

"You worry about mine later. Take care of your things first."

Yeah, right, You think as you twist it with an unrelenting grip. You are there to serve your master. It's one of the first things you learn. His needs came before your own. His needs were your needs.

Jinshi snatched the robe away and squeezed the fabric tight, an overflowing amount of water released from the cloth and into the ground.

Okay, so maybe he was better at it than you.

You nod, turning your attention towards your own garments and try to ignore the overwhelming feeling that you had eyes on your rear.

"So, um—" Jinshi cleared his throat when his eyes dragged away from you, cheeks a bright red. "What now?"

"Well, we could attempt at trying to swim back—"

"You can't swim."

"I was going to say that."

"Oh, sorry."

There's a soft silence between the both of you as you finish up. Gently redressing, you make your way towards the entrance of the cave, where the waterfall is blocking it from any negative eyes. You press your lips into a thin line and regard it bitterly. You remember this waterfall.... you could recall the times you whimsical pondered what it'd be like to ride down it like in those stories.

Jinshi had promised such when you both were too young and too dumb to realize how naïve dreams like that were.

You couldn't really judge that mini-you, for you had your own dreams of—

"Remember when Gaoshun first brought us here?"

You hadn't realized that Jinshi made his way over until he was standing beside you. Robes lose over his shoulders and tugging on his top layer. Violet eyes were watching the water as if it were a canvas of memories in the long distant past. Something to be admired and viewed with daisies and smiles. Not to be addressed as anything but good or amazing. Not to see the truth of it all.

You press your lips together, drawing in a heavy breath, "I remember you pushing me in the water and Gaoshun having to pull me out."

Jinshi's face screws up slightly, a faint blush on his features as he almost looks around with shame. "Right...." He straightens, "I'm sorry."

You blink, "Huh?"

Jinshi glances at you with a small smile, "I, uh, never really apologized back then. Made you apologize like you did something wrong." He explains weakly.

You raise an amused brow, "I told you I wished you would drown."

"I kinda deserved it!" Jinshi counters, his lips cracking into a grin. That charming grin he gets that makes your heart flutter. Make you hopeful for terrible and wistful. "I'm real sorry."

You smile softly, eyes kind and soft as you regard him, "I forgave you a long time, Jinshi-sama."

Jinshi's expression faltered, "Don't call me...." He trailed off awkwardly, turning his attention back to the unrelenting waterfall. You watched him for that moment. That split second where it looked like he was actually going to say something that would make you lightheaded. His jaw working and the muscle jumping as he seems to contemplate his next words.

Say anything and I'll cling to it, You think, watching his lips part, I always have. I always will.

"I'm surprised you were the one that followed me out. I thought the Apothecary might've done it."

You tense. That was certainly not what you expected him to say. Of all the things he could say? The Apothecary.

The waterfall in front of you is suddenly much too loud and violent. The cave seems to darken and your eyes drag from Jinshi to stare at your bare feet. Of course. Of course. Why wouldn't he want Maomao? Why had you even came here? Who were you to get between whatever silent signal he was trying to send to the other girl.

Him and Maomao. It was nicer than him and you. Jinshi and Y/n.

You straighten, pushing down any ill thoughts and heavy feelings into the dark pits of your chest and mind. "I apologize for the intrusion. I thought it'd make more sense for me to accompany you, Jinshi-sama."

"Why are you apologizing....?" He trailed off and then made a noise that sounded eerily similar to that of a caught man. "No, wait, I'm really glad that you're the one who came! Like really glad!"

"You don't have to spare me, Jinshi-sama. I'm a woman now, not a little girl."

"I'm not—" He visibly slumps, closing his eyes and trying to collect whatever thoughts he has and place them appropriately. He draws in a breath and faces you, looking oddly serious compared to his usual self. "I'm not trying to spare your feelings. I was just trying to say that— Well, it's not— I want you here, Y/n."

He's sparing your feelings. He's being kind. He doesn't actually want you there. You can't be friends.

You don't spare him a response. Instead, walking further into the cave. You raise your eyebrows, looking at the gaping hole above you where light and the sounds of nature filtered in. What could possibly get you both out of there...?

Whistle. Sit.

Of course. Him.

Jinshi sighs, "I spoke to Gaoshun before we—"

You place your fingers in the corner of your mouth and blow. A loud whistle bounces off the cave walls and out of the hole. You wait and hope to hear a bark or see the familiar tall man, but there's nothing.

"What are you doing?" Jinshi asks slowly, glancing between you and the hole above.

"Hello?" You cup your hands over your mouth and shout as loudly as you can. "Is anyone out there?"

Jinshi frowns, staring at you uneasily, "Y/n, please, we don't want to attract them this direction."

In the mess of almost drowning and seeing peeps of Jinshi's bare skin, you'd almost forgotten that you both had been chased down here by some violent assassin. Rather foolish, if you were honest.

You place the tips of your fingers against your lips and try to force the blush spreading across your cheeks off. "Sorry." You offer a bow of your head, despite the position you both find yourselves in.

You receive no response which causes you to peek at him. The stare that he's leveling you with doesn't bring you any type of comfort. It usually meant he was about to say something that—

"Hop on my back and see if you can reach up there."

—you wouldn't like.

Your eyebrows shot upwards and you stared at him with wide eyes. If Suiren was here and knew what he just proposed, she'd positively lose her mind. No matter how long she had known you— she'd think it improper. He was your boss and you were his lowly servant. To be in an position above him or treating him like a mat, it was...

It was simply ridiculous.

"But—"

"If you're the one below, you'll get crushed." He jabs a thumb over his shoulder. "Do it."

And that's how you ended up here. Legs wrapped around Jinshi's shoulders and heads, hand reaching out for the dirt above. You dig your fingers in and glance down at the man below you.

"Are you sure I'm not hurting you?"

Jinshi sighed for what seemed the hundredth time that day, his hand on your thigh squeezing gently. "Y/N, please stop asking me that."

You grimace, "My apologies, Jinshi-sama. Sorry." You shakily raise from your place, ignoring the soft and deep grunt Jinshi gives as you stand on his shoulders.

You dig your nails into the damp dirt and begin to tug yourself up.

This is it. Finally, you could get into the open forest once again. You're not going to be suffocated by his presence. Everything will return back to its rightful places—

You froze when it smacked you in the forehead.

You tried to keep calm as you felt the slimy breathing thing rest on your skin. Body tensed up and eyes staring widely at the bright sky above.

"Y/N?" Jinshi softly called, noticing the way you tensed.

"F—Frog." You utter, jaw clenched tight and you felt it shift as you take a deep breath. "A frog."

Jinshi blinked, looking up at you with his own wide eyes, "Hey, don't-don't freak out! Just shake your head and it'll hop off."

You shake a little, but follow his instructions. However, you may have overestimated the shake as you lose your grip on the dirt and begin to fall back.

"Hey!"

The tumble down is short and not all that hurtful, like you had been expecting. You had closed your eyes in anticipation, fear of having to watch the ground quickly approach too much for your tiny heart. You expected to feel the damp mud to be seeping into your clothes and little bits of stone and bark digging into your skin. However—

Nothing.

There was nothing except the soft silk under your fingers. The scent that resembled a sweet fruit, one that you had smelt quite often in the mornings. In the noons, the evenings, the nights, repeat. You knew that smell and that familiar beat against your own chest.

Peeking your eyes open, you find that Jinshi is already staring back at you. The first thing you notice is that you both are extremely close to one another. His breath fans against your dewy face, making goosebumps raise off your skin and a shiver sent down your spin. Next is his tender expression, Eyes gentle and twinkling. His expression isn't filled with pain or anything that would indicate that he was uncomfortable with the very short distance between you both. The last thing you notice is the fact that your body is pressed against his.

Your complexion flushes and you blink down at him.

He's warm. Incredibly warm. A sharp contrast to his damp clothes, which are open and pooling under his shoulder blades, revealing his bare chest to you. Your breath is ripped from you as you stare at the plump skin. You've seen it a million times. Every day as you help him get ready for the day. It should be normal. Should be something that doesn't make you lightheaded.

But it does.

He's right there. Right against you. You can feel his heartbeat ramming against his chest and into yours. You can feel every small breath he takes—as if hanging onto this moment with, what? Trepidation? Unease? You weren't entirely sure but you knew that you felt light.

Was it so bad that you felt nice in this moment? That this warmth was wrong? Was it so out of your reach that you simply couldn't imagine a man wanting to embrace you in a way?

You are to give your life to your master. Any inappropriate behavior will be punished, severely.

Yes. It was.

You clenched your jaw, ignoring the tender look in Jinshi's eyes as you try to bring your mind into the present.

The frog.

It wasn't anything that you wanted to touch, but Jinshi was your master. Your discomforts and fears must be pushed away for his sake and needs.

Reaching down, you feel for any signs of the frog. It wasn't large, but it wasn't entirely small either. It wouldn't be hard to find in all it's slimy and— There it is.

Your hand brushed it and you feel almost elated to find it. Your hand cupped around the bulge from Jinshi's robes. It feels much bigger than the average frog that'd been on your forehead. It was unmoving to, except for the small twitch it gives as you rest your palm down. You gripped it.

"Hng," Jinshi grunts, his eyes close. You're a little shocked as his hips shift, his hands at your hips dig into your flesh, almost too eager. You snap your eyes upward to his suddenly sweating and flushed face. "I-I'm sorry, but... but could you move your hand? It's making things, um, rather difficult."

Difficult?

You grip onto the twitching frog below you—

"U-Uh—" Jinshi moans in a deep and guttural way that would make anyone, especially you, malfunction. It doesn't help that his hands latch onto you harder, pressing you closer and releasing a stuttering breath against your ear.

Why was he squirming so much? Why was his face so red and dripping with sweat? Why was his chest heaving and his hands flexing around your skin? And why was this thing twitching and getting bigger in your hold....

Oh.

Oh.

You are to give your life to your master. Any inappropriate behavior will be punished, severely.

You felt a little sick at your intrusion. At the gall. You couldn't believe yourself. You had violated one of the single rules you were ever given. You violated Jinshi's space. His entire being. You were to be punished and hated— ousted from your position.

Disgusted with yourself, you slowly stand up. Jinshi's softly panting from his position on the ground, running a hand through his mused hair.

"S-Sorry, I haven't— I'm a bit—" Jinshi's obviously embarassed and uncomfortable. Look what you've done. You've ruined it all. "Hey, where are you going?"

Before you could think much more as his hands grip your hips once again and pull you down.

You're sat on his his lap and you could feel it.

"J-Jinshi-sama, I'm so-I'm so sorry!" You tucked your head down, shaking with trembling lips.

Jinshi's hands fall to your thighs, limp, "Eh...?"

"What I did was truly inappropriate and-and I will take any and all punishment!"

"Punishment...?" He sounded terribly confused, still a bit breathless. You keep your head ducked and he remains unmoved. "Why would I... you're not getting punished."

"I give my life to you. Any inappropriate behavior will be punished." You repeated softly under your breath, tucking your hands against your face to hide away from his gaze. From the judgement and hatred. "It's only just."

There's a longstanding silence between the both of you and you're hopeful that he's coming to his senses. That you'd be released and freed. That you would finally accept the gap and space between them. To fall away, finally, to the shadows.

It was tarnished the moment Jinshi wraps your hands around your own, gently prying your hands away from your face.

He doesn't look vengeful or angered. No. No, he looks kind. As he always has been. Kind and considerate. Honest and open. He'd always been so...

He'd never really been angry with you. Not without sadness being overbearing. Always so quick to forgive you. To push everything away with a smile and crinkle of his eyes.

"Y/N..." His words are as soft as his expression.

Your hands shake, "Please... Please hate me." You pleaded quietly, pressing your forehead against his hands as if he were a monk to be begged to.

"I'm not going to punish you or... or anything of the sort. Why would you want that?"

You draw in a watery breath, shoulders shaking, "It's easier to let go that way." You admitted.

"Let go of what?"

"Of my love for you."

"What?!"

His shout echoed off the cave walls. Your humiliation and embarrassment was quick to follow once it bounced back at you. Made you flinch back and try to push yourself back from his lap. Why did you say anything? Fool. Disgusting fool.

"Hey, hey, hey," Jinshi's hands wrap around your wrists and tug you forward a bit. You refuse to meet his eye. You refuse to be humiliated and demeaned— "Don't do that. Don't close off."

You clench your jaw and try to push the humilation deep within you, taking a deep calming breath as you stared at his bare collar. "You're so kind and so... you. I'm sorry if I make you uncomfortable or disgusted, but I need to tell you. And then I would hope that you would let me go."

Jinshi's eyebrows shot up. "Let you go?"

You've been thinking about this for some time. That it all would be better if, in the end, you were to serve someone else. That you were pawned off for some soldier instead of this slow torture. This uncomfortable, unbearable tiptoeing.

"I would like for you to offer me to a soldier or anywhere else."

The reaction is instant. The way Jinshi's complexion darkens and he stares at you with wide eyes. He slumps into the damp ground and almost turns into putty. His hold on you slackens and gives you ample opportunity to move away. But you're frozen in your spot.

"Why would I do that?" Jinshi's voice is quiet, slow, "You're... You're mine."

A blush takes over your cheeks, "Jinshi-sama, It's not appropriate! I shouldn't be like this with you."

"What if I like it?"

You blink at him. "Huh?"

Jinshi leans forward, his thumb gently skirting against your skin. "What if I have some love for you too? What if I don't care about what's appropriate or follows the rules."

I would ask who you are. You were tempted to say but your mouth was clamped shut in shock. Following the rules had been completely him. He was put in his current position now to ensure the rules in the rear palace were being followed diligently. The thought that he would love someone like you when there were people like Maomao or princesses out there. People much more deserving of his devotion. It wasn't right.

As if sensing you're not believing him, he pulls away and presses his lips thin. "Okay, I'll convince you." He straightens up and takes a breath. "I spoke to Gaoshun not too long ago. Before we came here and I know everything now."

A pause. Everything. He knew everything now? Everything is so much. Everything is... well, everything. What exactly had Gaoshun told him?

"What's everything?"

"That my mother didn't want you around anymore. That Gaoshun told you that you weren't allowed around me anymore. That you stopped being my friend and became my employee."

Your stare up at Jinshi with wide eyes. "That's not...Us being friends wasn't right anymore."

Jinshi frowned, shaking his head and his hands slide up to your arms. "If I had my way, I would've had you by my side all that time. Not as some lady-in-waiting, but as my equal."

You shake your head, ignoring the erratic beating of your heart against your chest. "Don't say that. Don't say things you don't mean, Jinshi." You beg softly.

Jinshi reaches out, wrapping his hands around your own, pressing it against his chest. "I mean it with everything in me. If it were up to me, I wouldn't have ever been separated from you. Forget what my mother said." His words were sweet, tempting. They made you lightheaded. So did the sudden brightness and tender smile on his face. "That's the first time you've called me Jinshi since we were kids."

"What? I've always called you Jinshi."

"No, you've always called me Jinshi-sama."

"Oh."

You suppose you had.

"Jinshi," You utter, unsure of what else you both could say.

Jinshi's expression, if possible, softens further, leaning forward an inch. "Yes?" He whispers back just as softly.

Your eyes trail between his eyes before moving to his lips, parted and glistening, "Jinshi..."

Jinshi's hand slides up your thigh and his lips are ghosting against yours, "I'm here. I promise." He whispers before pressing your lips together delicately.

Your heart soars. Your hands shakily press against his cheeks, drawing closer as his own press your hips together. He's soft. He's tender. He's cautious and all encompassing. Filling your senses and making you lightheaded.

As you both part for a breath, he flips you onto your back. His hand grips the underside of your thigh and presses you close enough that he lets out a soft and broken sound.

His eyes are heavily lidded as he gazes down at you, lips pink. "I just want you. No one else. I promise." He utters.

You twist your hands into his hair, eyes fluttering. "You're it." You pass back.

His lips are back on yours. Wet and eager. This is sudden. Fast. But you've been waiting for so long. Had been clinging onto the smallest of things. Desperate to have this closeness that you had now. To feel his skin against yours. His breath mixing with your own. Everything him and everything you intertwined.

You just wanted to cherish this—

WOOF!

You and Jinshi both tense up, jumping. Looking over his shoulder, your eyes widen upon finding a familiar dog staring down at you both, wagging tail eager and happy to see you.

Jinshi's eyebrows furrow, "Huh...?"

There's not much warning before the dog is jumping down. Landing straight on Jinshi's back, causing the poor man to let out a pained sound. He's squishing you against the ground as the dog stands on his back, happily lapping his tongue against your cheek.

Vague disgust and disappointment wash over you, but you smile all the same. "Oh, boy!"

He barks again. A greeting you're sure.

Above, Lihaku and, surprisingly, Maomao appear. Both of them stare down at you with varying degrees of emotions. Lihaku looked excited and kinda like his dog, while Maomao.

Well, Maomao looked all too knowing.

"Well, you look rough!" Lihaku called down with a grin, "Glad to see you're not dead."

"As am I!" You huff out a laugh, then look to Maomao. "Hello, Xiaomao!"

"Hello." Maomao said flatly, she looked lower and her face screwed up distastefully. "Is Jinshi-sama okay?"

Lihaku then he spots his dog and slightly pales, letting out a sharp whistle. "C'mon, boy!"

The dog eagerly jumps off Jinshi, going to sit by your head and wag his tail. The man above you sighs in relief, pushing up off you. He sits up and you try not to focus on the bright blush on his face.

"Why did he do that?" The royal asks.

"Must've thought something was wrong." Lihaku rubs the back of his neck, frowning down at you both. "What... exactly where you two doing?"

You and Jinshi glance at one another, furious blushes flushing over you both. Despite anything that Jinshi said, there were things that you weren't allowed to do. Rules and laws that forbid something like this form happening the public eye. For a man like himself from being with a woman like you. A servant with a beautiful prince.

Protecting him was the priority.

"Nothing!" You shout back, ignoring the eyebrow raise that garnered from both Jinshi and Maomao.

Everything was better left alone. A secret between the both of you. To cherish and hold for however long it may need. You could deal with the anger and longing later.

[auroracalisto]

day #21: winter proposal

benedict bridgerton x gn!reader, 1k words a/n: listening to christmas music as i write this. hope it shows. or not. idk. <3 also??? does anyone know the terry's oranges you can only get around christmas? i love them. i make a tradition out of buying one every single year. THAT BEING SAID YOU LIKE ORANGES IN THIS FIC. it's self-indulgent. i'd say i'm sorry but i'm not. if you want a pt 2 let me know cuz i could totally do it tw: not entirely historically accurate (yes it's bridgerton) BUT i have a reason. i started writing this and only researched halfway through what the cost of a chocolate would be during the 1810s and little history lesson for you but europe didn't have access to chocolate until it was brought over from central america IN the 1810s, and then it spread all over. it wouldn't have a substaintial processor until like... the 1850s. so um. we're going to pretend for this fics sake that i didn't totally muck it up and chocolate processors were everywhere during this time. thanks spooky pookies

The season of the 'ton has come and gone, leading the socialites to a rather dreary winter. Balls were still held, dinners still attended, but the chill of the air haunted every hall and home.

Unless they were imported or dried, fruits and certain vegetables were hard to come by. The markets were compact with the exception of said dried goods and chocolates from the heart of European society.

One good in particular was one that continued to catch a certain Bridgerton's eye—the little chocolates meticulously crafted to look as if they were made from an orange and even had a hint of orange taste. He didn't truly know how they did it, but he cared little—what he cared about was that he knew you had mentioned liking them some time ago.

He managed to get his hands on a few just the other day.

Despite it being after the proper season, he found himself seeking out your comfort and conversation at any moment he had been given—his mother found it endearing and supported his wants. After all, perhaps there was something to be said in developing a friendship before a marriage. She, herself, had married her best friend once upon a time. She'd like to see that in her children, if they could manage (her sons especially—she knew it would be harder for her daughters to do the same).

So, to get you to the Bridgerton manor without causing some kind of scandal, Benedict convinced his mother and brother, Anthony, to host a dinner for his family and yours.

Your parents agreed in typical fashion, and you were at the Bridgerton's in a matter of days. Dressed warmly, dressed as if you had something to show off for (you did, but you wouldn't confess to that), you entered the front door where Anthony, Benedict, and their mother greeted you and your family. The rest of Violet's children were just behind them, but they smiled mildly as they usually did.

Benedict greeted you with a kiss to your knuckles and a smile on his handsome face.

"It is a pleasure to see you again," he softly said, your name leaving his lips soon after.

"To you as well," you answered, unable to hide your smile.

Violet shared a knowing look with your parents. It was almost as if everyone was just waiting for what they knew would happen. The way the two of you looked at each other was almost frustrating—how could the two of you not just marry when you both clearly adored each other?

Dinner went well. Honey glazed ham, tarts with dried apples and strawberries, breads baked with selective flours and grains. You truly couldn't complain about the spread before you.

At some point or another, Benedict had dragged you to the drawing room, hand in hand.

"I've something to give you," he said, smiling back at you. "I saw it and I knew I had to buy them. I couldn't pass them up."

Your eyes widened a bit. "What? You didn't have to get me a thing, Benedict," you said. "I need for nothing."

"Perhaps," Benedict said, grinning all the while. He let go of your hand and with long strides, he was across the drawing room to where he had kept the box of chocolates for you. He then brought them back, holding the box to you.

You watch him warily for only a moment before you opened the box. Your heart nearly lurched in your throat as you looked up at him.

"These—Benedict, these must have cost you a fortune!"

"Rubbish," he said, watching you with happy eyes. "It truly wasn't much. I would buy even more if I hadn't bought the rest of what they had."

"You did not!" you exclaimed, holding the box tightly. "Oh, Benedict, this is—you are so kind. How can I ever repay you?" you asked, smiling all the while.

He chuckled softly. "Your friendship is enough repayment for me, dear Y/n," he said.

You sat the box down and reached forward, taking his hands in yours. "There must be something I could do for you," you said, eyes sparkling with mirth, and a little something that Benedict could only recognize as adoration. He knew that look well.

He watched you, lips parting as the words died on his lips. "Well, you..."

"Yes?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "It is foolish. I couldn't..."

"Benedict," you softly said. "We are already causing scandal enough just by being here in your drawing room with no chaperone. Truly, whatever you have to say, I want to hear."

He blinked slowly. You were right. Here you were, alone together, with no one to watch over you. To see what was happening. To see if you were doing wrong.

He licked his lips, peering down at you as he found his words.

"I could buy these for you, every winter season, you know," he said, a smile forming on his lips once more. He smiled quite a bit around you. He couldn't help it.

He loved you.

"Oh?" you asked, tilting your head at his words.

"All I'd need from you for repayment is your hand in marriage."

You paused—did you hear him right?

"Perhaps I should have a ring, or ask you during the marriage season, but truly, Y/n, I—"

"—I feel like the chocolates are close enough to a ring," you interrupted him.

He snorted softly. "I beg your pardon?"

"You bought them, for me. You saw them and thought of me. I do believe that warrants a proper proposal, does it not?"

There it was—one of the many reasons he loved and adored you.

He leaned forward and would have kissed you had it not been for the knock at the drawing room door.

In walked Violet, and Benedict quickly looked over, wide eyed.

"I wondered where the two of you were," Violet said, suspiciously watching the two of you. "Well? Did I give you enough time to find an answer, Benedict, or will you marry them due to scandal?"

His eyes widened. Had his mother planned this? He paid no mind, smiling her way.

"I do believe we should plan for a wedding, mother," he said. "And perhaps a proper ring, yes?"

"Yes," you said, your own smile mirroring his. "It would be good to start."

Violet returned the smile. "Good," she said. "Now, come back and join the party. Your father, dear Y/n, has just made a fool of himself with an apple tart."

[ameliathornromance]

Cage Fighter! Orc x Reader - Prolouge

A/N: Here it is! I've decided to kind of start the story backwards, from the very beginning of all of this 'going on the run' stuff. If there's any feedback you want to give on how you'd like to see the story go, please comment and I'll consider it when writing the next part. Enjoy the prolouge!

TWs: Orc loses a tooth, mention of drugs and an illegal cage fighting ring and violence.

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

The room you’d been given as a nurses office was grimy. The walls were spattered with black mould, the examiners table in the corner of the room had chunks of it’s mattress missing, exposing the yellowing sponge, which otherwise would have been clad in the same black faux plastic lining that was held together with duct tape.

You had done your best to sterilise the tools you’d been given, soaking them in alcohol, spraying them with other cleaning supplies and – for good measure – bleach.

Given how dirty the office was you’d been given, you doubted that your efforts to sustain a clean environment would do much. But something, was better than nothing.

Outside of your office, the muffled cheers of the ongoing cage match went on, accompanied with the occasional crack of bones breaking or hard slap of skin on skin as the two fighters collided in battle.

Sometimes, you wanted to cover your ears, sink into your imagination, pretend you were back in your residency, where everything was fine and well… Well, as ‘fine and well’ as it could be. You would try to imagine the clean and sterile office you shared with your fellow students, and their white coats, clean of any kind of bodily fluid, showing off their naïvety to the field of medicine.

But the harsh reality of your situation always came back to you, when the door leading out to the cage would be thumped on and in would stumble this evenings fighter.

Tonight, you were in charge of taking care of the Event organisers favourite toy: Big Money.

From what you knew – being given a file of medical information about the Orc – he was 6’3, was over 201 pounds of muscle and could throw what the Event Organisers so lovingly and excitedly called, ‘the Death Punch.’

That was detailed in the notes of the file. The rest of the medical information was pretty standard, he was aged 28, didn’t smoke, but drank quite heavily, wasn’t sexually active and had no known allergies or conditions.

And, as if hearing your thoughts, a hard thump came from the other side of your door.

You opened it and stepped aside to allow the Orc to enter. Unlike most other combatants, he came in steadily, as if he’d never been in a fight in the first place.

Without so much as a greeting, he sat on the table and looked at you expectantly. Grabbing your tools, you got to work.

There was no point in trying to talk to him. Ninety percent of the time, these fighters were too out of their minds on adrenaline or some kind of other substance to hold a proper conversation and could only answer your basic medical questions.

First, you examined his face.

While beat up, and slowly turning black and blue in certain places, there didn’t seem to be anything too damaged. The tell tale signs of broken bones were absent, as well as anything that would signal lasting damage.

“Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?” You asked him. Holding up three fingers, the Orc grunted. “Three fingers.”

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[iamquiantrelle]

GOLDEN BOY (chapter 2)────── iamquaintrelle

⌗ pairing : trent alexander arnold x black oc

⌗ summary : trent is having a quarter life crisis but will a smart-mouthed girl whip him into shape?

⌗ warnings : 18+ only!! (☁️☔️💕)

⌗taglist: @foreverisntenough, @trentswrld, @trentswhore @cinnaleaf @v6quewrlds @football-and-fanfics @eriks-girl @preetykookie @4ngryssgf @endlessmuse @noturbabe22 @bbgkoo

Tyler was still talking, going on about lighting concepts, but Trent's mind was spinning like he'd just done dizzy penalties.

April fucking Goodplenty.

The girl who'd rinsed him about his accent was apparently some hotshot photographer to the stars. No wonder she wasn't gassed about him being TAA - she probably shot Mbappé in his boxers last week.

"…could really elevate your brand," Tyler was saying. "Show a different side of you, you know? More artistic–"

"I fucked her last night."

Tyler's fork clattered against his plate. "What?"

"Well, almost fucked her." Trent grimaced, remembering. "Got proper mortal on tequila."

"You're taking the piss."

"Swear down." Trent tugged his collar down, revealing the art gallery of hickeys April had left behind. "She's got this mental cat named Pussy–"

"Bruv." Tyler put his head in his hands. "You're telling me you pulled the photographer I've been trying to book for three months? The one who told Nike to fuck off because their concept wasn't 'authentic' enough?"

"…yeah?"

"And you got liquor dick?"

"Oi!" The elderly couple at the next table turned to stare, and Trent lowered his voice. "It weren't just me, she was proper steaming too."

Tyler started laughing, proper belly laughs that had heads turning all over the restaurant. "This is peak. Absolutely peak. The one time your dick decides to go on strike–"

"Listen yeah," Trent cut in, "we can't book her. It'd be weird now."

"Are you mad? This is perfect! She already knows you, innit? Might even give us a better rate–"

"Ty." Trent's voice was serious now. "She proper mugged me off this morning. Slammed the door in my face and everything. Think she'd just take the piss if we tried booking her."

"Or maybe…" Tyler had that look he got when he was plotting something. "Maybe she'd want to finish what you started."

Trent's mind flashed to this morning - April in that silk robe, the way it had gaped open just enough to drive him mental. The absolute violation that would be, her directing him all professional-like while knowing exactly what he looked like in just his boxers.

"Nah." He shook his head. "Find someone else."

"Too late." Tyler's grin was pure evil as he held up his phone. "Already sent the inquiry last week. Got a meeting with her tomorrow."

"You're taking the fucking piss."

"Meeting's at two. Her studio in Shoreditch." Tyler stood up, dropping some notes on the table. "Don't be late."

"I'm not going."

"Yes you are." Tyler's voice had that tone that meant business. "This is exactly what we need for your image right now. Bit of edge, bit of artistry. Show everyone you're more than just the scouse wonderkid."

Trent watched his brother leave, then slumped back in his chair. Fucking hell. Tomorrow was going to be madness.

His phone buzzed - Tyler sending through the studio address. Under it was a message that made his stomach flip:

'She already confirmed btw. Said she's "very interested" in working with you.'

Christ. What had he gotten himself into?

Trent's Range Rover crawled through Shoreditch's narrow streets, his GPS having trouble trying to navigate the one-way system. Warehouse conversions and street art blurred past as his mind wandered to the night before last - to tequila shots and spiced vanilla and yellow-eyed cats named after Bond girls.

"Just round here," Tyler pointed, and Trent pulled up outside a converted factory building. Red brick, massive windows, proper East London trendy.

"Still think this is dead weird," he muttered, killing the engine.

"Stop being a pussy and come on."

The receptionist buzzed them through to a freight lift that looked like something out of a horror film, all exposed metal and dodgy grinding noises. When it finally wheezed to a stop, they stepped out into what had to be April's studio.

And there she was.

Fuck me.

The high-waisted jeans should've been illegal, honestly. Hugging every curve like they were painted on, leading down to these mental heels that had Trent's brain short-circuiting. The cropped jumper showed just enough skin to be professional but still have him thinking very unprofessional thoughts. Her hair was pulled back today, showing off cheekbones that could probably cut glass.

"Tyler," she smiled, all business now. "And… Trent. Nice to see you both."

The way she said his name had him remembering exactly how it sounded when she'd been leaving those marks on his neck. Speaking of which…

"Still sporting those love bites, I see," she smirked, gesturing for them to follow her into what looked like a meeting room. "Rough weekend?"

"Something like that," he managed, trying not to stare at her ass as she walked ahead of them. But fucking hell, those jeans were criminal.

The meeting room was all exposed brick and vintage furniture, mood boards covering one wall. April perched on the edge of the table, crossing those legs like she knew exactly what she was doing to his mental state.

"So," she began, pulling up some images on her laptop. "I've got some concepts I think could work really well. Break away from the usual footballer shoot - no watches, no posing with cars. Something more… raw."

Tyler leaned forward, interested. "Go on."

"I'm thinking black and white, minimal styling. Really strip everything back." She turned her laptop around, showing similar shoots she'd done. "Some torso shots, maybe even full nude–"

"What?" Trent choked out.

"Nothing gratuitous," she continued like he hadn't spoken. "All very tasteful. Think Greek sculpture vibes. Show the athletic form, the power, the vulnerability…"

"Nah," Trent shook his head. "No chance."

"Why not?" Those eyes fixed on him, challenging. "Scared?"

"I'm not scared," he bristled. "Just don't fancy getting my kit off for your camera, do I?"

"Wouldn't be the first time you've stripped for me though, would it?"

Tyler's eyebrows shot up as Trent felt his face heat. "That was different–"

"Was it?" She tilted her head, that infuriating smirk playing at her lips. "Because I seem to remember you being quite… willing."

"We'll think about it," Tyler cut in smoothly, ever the professional. "Maybe start with something less… exposed? Build up to it?"

April shrugged, standing up. "Your call. But I think you're missing an opportunity here. Could be something special."

As they headed for the lift, she called out: "Oh, and Trent? Might want to invest in some turtlenecks. Those marks look proper savage. Almost like you ran into a vampire or something."

"That what you are then? A vampire?"

Her laugh echoed through the studio - an unfiltered belly laugh that had him staring. Head thrown back, eyes crinkled, nothing like her professional photographer persona. Something in his chest did a weird flip.

"You're mental, you know that?" he said, but he was grinning despite himself.

"So I've been told." She winked - actually winked - and disappeared back into her office.

Outside, Tyler was already on his phone, probably lining up their next meeting. "That went well."

"Well?" Trent spluttered. "She wants me naked!"

"Not straight away though. We can build up to it–"

"I'm not getting my dick out for art, Ty!"

"No one said anything about your dick," Tyler grinned. "Unless… you thinking about showing her that too?"

"Shut up."

"Nah but seriously," Tyler pocketed his phone, turning to face him. "Did you see those other shots she showed us? Proper sick. Could really change how people see you."

Trent leaned against his car, thinking about it. The photos had been amazing - athletes looking powerful but vulnerable at the same time. Nothing sleazy about it. But still…

"She's just going to take the piss the whole time."

"Maybe that's what you need though?" Tyler raised an eyebrow. "Someone who doesn't treat you like TAA, Liverpool's golden boy. When was the last time someone actually challenged you properly?"

Never, if he was being honest. Even Sophie had just tried to mold him into what she thought he should be. But April… she seemed dead set on doing the opposite.

"Plus," Tyler added with a smirk, "think you might be into it a bit."

"What?"

"The way she mugs you off. Saw your face when she was giving it the big one about being scared. You proper love it."

"Fuck off," Trent laughed, but his neck felt hot. Was he actually into being challenged like that? The way she'd rinsed him about everything, how she kept him on his toes…

Christ. Maybe he did have a thing for it.

"Just think about it," Tyler said, already walking to the passenger side. "Meeting's in the diary for next week. Wear something nice."

Trent watched his brother disappear inside the car, then looked back up at the studio windows. Through the massive panes of glass, he could just make out April's silhouette, bent over her desk reviewing something.

Those fucking jeans though.

Maybe one more meeting wouldn't hurt.

Liverpool's training ground was freezing, typical January weather making everyone's breath visible in the air. Trent tugged at his high-neck base layer, grateful for the excuse of the cold to cover up April's artwork. Two days later and the marks were still there, like she'd been trying to brand him or something.

"Again!" Slot's voice carried across the pitch. "Press higher, Trent! Control that space!"

He pushed forward, finding that pocket between the defensive line in the practice match. The ball came to his feet like it was on a string - muscle memory from thousands of repetitions. One touch, two touch, whipped cross to Nuñez who buried it in the top corner.

"Better! Take five, lads!"

Trent grabbed his water bottle and phone from his bag, dropping onto one of the benches. His thumb opened Raya automatically - sad behavior really, but he couldn't help himself. Been glued to it since New Year's, swiping through posh girls and influencers without really seeing them.

Until.

"You're fucking joking," he muttered, nearly dropping his phone.

There she was. April Goodplenty, 27, verified profile with that little blue tick. Her first photo was something artistic - all shadows and angles, showing off those cheekbones that could probably slice bread. The next one had her on some beach in Bali, wearing this tiny white bikini that had his throat going dry. Then one of her working, camera in hand, tongue caught between her teeth in concentration.

The bio though: "If your profile's got you in a watch and suit, save us both the time and swipe left xx"

Trent snorted. Course she'd have that energy on here too.

His thumb hovered over her profile. Would she even swipe right on him? Probably saw him as just another job now. Plus there was that whole… liquor dick situation. Total violation that was.

Fuck it.

He swiped right just as Slot's whistle pierced the air.

"Let's go! Set piece drills!"

Back to work then. He jogged back onto the pitch, trying to focus on football instead of wondering if she'd match with him. They ran through corner routines, free kick patterns, all the stuff that should've had his full attention. But his mind kept drifting to spiced vanilla and burgundy nails and that laugh that made his chest do weird things.

"Trent!" Slot's voice snapped him back. "You're dropping too deep again!"

Get it together, lad.

By the time training finished, he was tired. The shower felt biblical, hot water washing away the January chill. He wrapped a towel around his waist and another around his neck to hide the love bites, heading for his locker when his phone lit up with a notification.

New match on Raya.

His heart actually skipped. What was he, twelve?

But there she was - April Goodplenty had swiped right. And she'd already sent a message:

"You get one second chance. Don't fuck it up."

His first thought was "Yes ma'am" but that felt a bit… eager. Instead, he sent back a salute emoji, trying to play it cool while his brain was doing cartwheels.

Right then. Where the fuck do you take a girl who thinks fancy restaurants are dead and probably knows every hipster spot in London?

He opened Google, typing "unique date ideas Liverpool" before deleting it immediately. Nah, that was basic. She'd see right through that.

What about… he thought back to her flat. All those vinyls, the art everywhere. The way her eyes lit up when she was taking the piss out of his accent.

Maybe he did have an idea. Something properly scouse, but make it interesting. Show her his Liverpool, not the sanitized version he usually showed girls like Sophie.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, a grin spreading across his face. Oh yeah. This could work.

Now he just had to not fuck it up.

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

Two-all against Man United felt like a kick in the teeth. Trent's yellow card was still burning him up - such a soft call from the ref after Rashford went down like he'd been shot. The crowd had lost it, Anfield turning into a cauldron of noise as Man United's number ten rolled around like he was auditioning for the Olympics.

The gaffer had given them the "point's a point" speech in the dressing room, but it didn't help the taste of ash in his mouth. Should've had that game wrapped up in the first half - hit the post twice, had a penalty shout waved away. Then Bruno's equalizer in the 89th minute... violation that.

And now he had to somehow get his head right for this date.

He'd picked Baltic Market - bit different from his usual spots, proper Liverpool but with an edge. Street food stalls, local artists, that indie record shop in the corner that reminded him of April's flat. No fancy tablecloths or sommeliers giving it the big one about wine pairings. Just real Liverpool culture, the kind tourists never got to see.

His phone buzzed - probably Tyler asking about the match. But nah, just his mum sending another article about his yellow card. Christ, did everyone have an opinion these days?

"This better work," he muttered, checking the time again. Seven minutes late. Maybe she'd ghosted. Wouldn't be surprised after that meeting, him acting all precious about getting his kit off–

"Didn't expect you to actually pick somewhere decent."

That voice. He turned and… fuck me.

The Balenciaga jumpsuit was doing criminal things to her figure, and those heels had her almost at his height. Her coat was probably worth more than his entire outfit, but she wore it like it was nothing. Those curls though - bouncing with every movement, making his fingers itch to touch them.

"Rough match?" she asked, and he could've kissed her for not going straight into analysis mode like everyone else after a draw.

"Something like that."

"Good thing I know just the cure." She nodded toward the entrance. "Shall we?"

Inside was buzzing - fairy lights strung across the ceiling, music from some local band floating through the air, the smell of about twelve different cuisines mixing together. April's eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas, taking it all in.

"Now this," she said, "is more like it."

They ended up at this Korean street food stall, April going in on some bulgogi fries while telling him about this shoot she did with some rugby player who kept flexing his abs between takes.

"Real tragic," she laughed, licking sauce off her fingers in a way that had his mind going places it shouldn't. "Like mate, I can see them, you don't need to keep pushing them out. Looked like he was having a fit."

"That what you want me to do then? Get my abs out?"

"Please," she rolled her eyes, but he caught the way her gaze flickered to his torso. "Your ego's big enough already. Plus, after that meeting... seems like you're scared of the camera."

"I'm not scared," he bristled. "Just don't fancy having my arse all over magazines."

"Shame," she smirked. "It's quite a nice arse."

Before he could process that, she was already moving on to the next stall, leaving him standing there like an idiot.

They wandered through the market, April stopping to chat with every artist about their work. She knew her stuff too - passionate about it all. Made him think about those art prints in her flat, how everything there had felt intentional. Not like his place with its designer furniture picked out by some interior decorator.

The record shop owner recognized him, but instead of the usual selfie request, he and April got into this massive debate about vinyl pressings that Trent couldn't follow for shit. But watching her get excited about it, those curls bouncing as she gestured, the way her eyes lit up when she found some rare pressing... it was doing something to his chest, making it feel tight in a way that had nothing to do with the match earlier.

"Trent?"

He blinked, realizing he'd been staring. "What?"

"I said, should we get out of here?"

Outside, the Liverpool air was bitter now. April pulled her coat tighter, those curls whipping in the wind, and Trent had to stuff his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to touch them.

"Listen," she said suddenly, turning to face him. "Let's cut the chase. I'm a busy woman, you're a busy man... so are we trying to fuck each other or are you pussy?"

Trent nearly choked on air. "I- what?"

"You heard me."

"You slammed a door in my face!" he spluttered. "Like, what are you talking about?"

"Sorry," she shrugged, not looking sorry at all. Those eyes were dancing with mischief again. "I saw you giving me the eyes at our meeting. And you swiped right on Raya, so..."

His brain was short-circuiting. This girl was actually mental. Completely off her head. Saying whatever came to mind like she didn't give a fuck about the consequences. And fuck him if it wasn't the most attractive thing he'd ever seen.

"You're actually mad," he said, but he was grinning.

"Maybe." She stepped closer, close enough that he could smell that spiced vanilla again. Close enough to see the flecks of gold in her eyes, the way her lips curved into that smile that spelled trouble. "But I don't see you running."

No, he definitely wasn't running. Not when she was looking at him like that, like she was deciding exactly how she wanted to ruin him. Not when those curls were right there, begging to be touched. Not when everything about her was a challenge he desperately wanted to accept.

"So?" She raised an eyebrow, and he could see the marks she'd left on his neck reflected in her eyes. "What's it going to be?"

The wind whipped around them, carrying the distant sounds of the city - cars honking, music from the market, someone laughing. But all Trent could focus on was the way April was looking at him, those eyes challenging him like always. Making him feel like more than just TAA, Liverpool's golden boy. Making him feel... real.

Fuck it.

"Your place or mine?"

Her smile turned wicked. "Bold of you to assume I'm that easy."

"You literally just asked if-"

"I know what I asked." She took a step back, and he immediately missed her warmth. "But maybe I just wanted to see what you'd say."

Christ. This girl was going to be the death of him.

"See you at the studio next week, Trent," she called over her shoulder, already walking away. "Try not to think about me too much."

He watched her disappear into the night, those curls bouncing with each step, that jumpsuit doing ungodly things to his mind.

Too late for that, wasn't it? He was already in too deep, and they both knew it.

The worst part? He was starting to think he didn't mind at all.

…………tbd

[butterflys-corner]

Hey! I was hoping I can make a request for an angst! Zoro x Reader fic. Maybe where the reader and him have been together for over five months but unfortunately the reader isn’t getting the emotional connection she’s been wanting and Zoro only knows physical.

Then when she confront him about it after having enough, he just dismisses her and calls her a distraction, whiiich leads to them breaking up 😁

I loooove angst and you can add some nsfw details in there if you’d like

Welcome to tumblr btw!

I can definitely do that! That's such a good idea.. I don't think I've seen anything (yet!) with this theme. And thank you for the welcome :)

R͓̽e͓̽q͓̽u͓̽e͓̽s͓̽t͓̽: "Distraction" - Angsty Zoro x reader. The reader and Zoro have been together for over five months, but he hasn't been giving her quite the right type of love she needs. They argue and, from Zoro being stubborn, break up. Fem! Reader. Music inspo: Kiss With a Fist - Florence and the Machine

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ, ᴀʀɢᴜɪɴɢ/ꜰɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ, ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ᴜᴘ, ʜᴜʀᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ɴꜱꜰᴡ.]

-1,236 words

Zoro never thought in the years of his life that he would be here, in this impossible to leave room, in this equally impossible stalemate of a conversation. Or was it an argument? He wished he knew didn't know.

You, the one person (other than Luffy) that he could stand every single day, had been angry with him over the dumbest thing to him.

"You know, I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to try this," your grating voice nagged him on. He just wanted to nap, but no.

"You either don't respect me, or you don't actually want to be with me." That caught his attention through the sleep settling in on his bones. Don't want to be with you?

"The hell are you on about, woman?" He spoke lowly, not wanting the entire crew in their business. His three swords rested against his broad chest as they usually did, his back against the mast.

"You not showing me proper affection. Like... holding hands or kissing me. Hell, even naps together seem like an obligation to you."

This was news to him. Your relationship seemed perfectly fine like enough to him. You sat beside each other at dinner, you watched him train and exercise, you napped together, you shared his cabin, what else did you-

"Gods, Roronoa. Even a single 'I do love you. I do need you. I don't want you to leave.' would work. But you can't say that, right? You only love those damn swords!"

"Will you shut up?! Why do you have to nag me every damn day? Everything I do you have some kind of issue with."

"I wouldn't have to if I felt loved! Like I felt when you first told me about having feelings for me!"

"I do. I.." He couldn't spit out the words. Those two words held a weight so heavy even he couldn't lift it. He felt almost.. helpless.

"You can't even say you love me. I thought as much." He watched as your arms crossed over your chest, the soft features of your face now harsh and angry toward him. In another instance, he would revel in that look. But now? Now he could only stare back cold and firm.

"Then what?" Your eyes bore holes into his head, but you stood tall. Before the thoughts formed in your head to respond, a scoff left his throat.

"You gonna leave me?"

You felt your head shake in disbelief, a scoff of your own leaving your throat.

"Maybe I will. You're a fucking asshole, Zoro."

"And you're-" don't say it.

"-just a-" don't finish that sentence.

"distraction." ...damn it.

He expected you to blow up. To scream at him across the ship like times before. To storm off with the heat of a thousand suns for him to cool you off later.

But the silence you gave him sent chills down his spine. The cold eyes on him were like ice, ever stuck on the glare he gave back.

"Fuck you." Was all you gave him. A quiet, bitter two words and you walked off like nothing happened.

"...shit." The word slipped his mind to his lips, the weight of the argument growing heavier than those three words you just wanted him to say. Why couldn't he just say them?

A sigh escaped his lungs and he shook his head, opting to nap away his stress. But sleep never stuck as he'd wake up every twenty minutes.

Pale eyelids flicked open and dark eyes scanned the vast waves ahead. He knew he would have to apologize somehow. He can't leave it that way.

So that's what the stubborn swordsman sought out to do. Zoro knows you had nowhere to go but your cabin, so his feet took him there without hesitation.

You were staring up at the ceiling of your cabin, endless thoughts swirling around in your head. If Zoro was pretending to care physically, what did he really think of you?

Were you just a love sick fool with rose tinted glasses this whole time? Did you let more than half a year pass under the guise of puppy love?

Gods, you were a fool.

Why would a man like Roronoa Zoro waste his time with a woman with a goal as huge as his? To be the World's Greatest Swordsman. There wasn't room for a woman in the equation, let alone affection or romance.

Grabbing the nearest pillow, you scream into the plush thing, your frustrations being released against the cotton. After the long outburst, your chest heaved against the silent room as your heart pounded in your ears.

Knock. Knock.

"Go away, Zoro."

"No. Open the door."

You grow silent, hoping that would deter him. But boy were you wrong.

"You know I'll break this damn wood to get in there."

A grumble and squeak of your bed, then you're up and opening the cabin door.

"The fuck you want now?" You all but spit, the harsh tone meeting the deserving mosshead.

"Can I come in?" His voice was low, and you noticed the slight glint in his eye. The one that you learned was a telltale sign that he was guilty of something.

"Fine," you sigh out, stepping aside.

"I came to talk. You didn't have to walk away like that." Your eyes scanned your complicated partner as you sit down against the bed again. He shut your door lightly behind him, assuming a seat along the floor.

"Like what? Like I'm angry? I am." You cross your arms over your chest, crossing your legs against the bed.

"Like you want nothing to do with me," the murmur was thick with previously hidden emotion as your eyes fell to him.

"I don't. I'm a distraction, remember? If that's all I am to you, I don't want it."

"You aren't just-" Mosshead grumbles, the inflection in his voice obviously from keeping a level head right now. "Forget it. I'm clearly wasting my time. Goodnight, Tiny."

"Don't call me that. L/N is fine."

"L/N now? Fine. Don't come cryin' to me tomorrow."

"Excuse me?" You raise an annoyed eyebrow and lean closer to the swordsman.

"You heard me, L/N. Don't bitch to me." The muscular man stood up, beefy arms crossed over his toned chest.

"Get out. I don't need you. I.." don't say it.

"You what?" She hates me.

"Gods, I fucking hate you!" You don't mean that.

"Yeah? I hate you, too. You're a pathetic," no. "weak," no, stop. "stupid woman that nags and nags me every damn day. And you know what? That's fine. You can find someone new," No. I want you. "to nag."

"Well, guess what," You stood up from the bed, the usual anger he expected bubbling up to the surface. Though, he found no humor or playful sass back at it. Just disappointment buried in his chest.

"You, Roronoa Zoro, are incapable of loving someone. You care only for being the strongest swordsman, but guess what? You can't. Even a man like Mihawk would have a love of his own that he fought for. But you? You have nothing." Your smaller hand had pressed against his thick pectoral, pushing him back until he was flush against the cabin door. "Now, get the hell out of my cabin."

"Fine." It's not fine! "Fine." It's NOT FINE!

And after that hurtful exchange, a heavy silence filled the room. The swallow of thick saliva cuts through the tension, Zoro taking the chance to leave your cabin, and your life.

When had the tears started?

Note: I hope I did it justice! Thanks for reading! <3 Credit for Zoro layout: @btslayouts Repulsion header credit: @gaecoo Pearl border credit: @chilumitos

[jiniretracha]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐲 - Jeon Jungkook (3)

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader / Park Jimin x fem!reader (but not quite, you'll see)

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Future smut

Summary: You were supposed to spend your happily ever after with Jeon Jungkook... until a family issue causes him to leave and a sudden break up leaves you bereft in the arms of your best friend, Park Jimin.

Word count: 6.1k

PS: this is heavily entirely inspired in the last two episode of True Beauty (so consider this a huge spoiler if you haven't seen it) cause i've been a fan of it since it came out and I just had to do something about it lol

MASTERLIST // my Ko-Fi // SERIES MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 3: 𝐢𝐦𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤

Time stopped. 

The cold you had felt minutes prior had vanished the moment you laid your eyes on him. 

You blinked a couple of times, trying to check if it wasn’t your mind playing tricks at you. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

He was staring at you intensely. His eyes were red and bloodshot, like he had been crying.

“Y/N?” he asked.

God, how you’ve missed that beautiful voice of his. 

You blinked a couple of times once again, but this time, to keep yourself from crying. 

“Y/N…” he repeated and walked towards you. He stopped til he was right in front of you.

You wanted to run.

But you were paralyzed. Utterly and completely paralyzed in your spot. You tried moving your feet but they were glued to the ground like they had been cemented. 

Your eyebrows were pinched in the middle as your vision completely blurred with tears. 

“I… I rushed over here as soon as I landed” he told you, his eyes getting teary as well, and he forced a little smile. “And you’re here” 

You tried speaking but you could only open your mouth and close it.

He framed your face with his hands, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks, brushing the tears that had fallen from your cheeks without you realizing. 

His touch.

Oh, how much you had missed that warm touch of his. No man could ever compare to him because he had always held your face like you were the most delicate flower and he was afraid your petals would fall if he touched you too roughly. 

You couldn’t concentrate on anything else rather than the pads of his thumbs caressing the apple of your cheeks. 

“Your face is cold” he said, his tone was sad. “You’re freezing, Jagi”

Your heart soared in your chest at the nickname but you quickly grabbed his hand and pulled it forcefully away from your face.

You took a whole step back away from him and scoffed. “Why did you come back?” you asked him, staring at his chest, not wanting to make eye-contact with Jungkook.

Jungkook brought his hands to his side. “Because I missed you” he said as a tear ran down his cheek.

You let out a humourless chuckle. “But we broke up” you reminded him and more tears fell from his eyes. “No. You broke up with me. So, why would you miss me? We are not together anymore” you shrugged. 

“Still” he insisted. “I missed you” he shrugged with a sad chuckle. “I missed you so much”

He stared at you for a moment and you did the same. 

Jungkook stepped a little closer to you and tried to grab your hand but you pulled it away with a shake of your head. 

“I… I didn’t miss you” you lied as you cried. His eyebrows pinched in the middle of his forehead and his chin quivered. “You can’t- you can’t just come back and say those things to me” you shook your head. “You can’t expect me to tell you that everything’s okay, Jungkook. That- that I missed you, too” 

Jungkook looked down and let out a little cry.

“Don’t you think it’s unfair to me?” you cried as well. “Do you even know how hard it was for me? Everything. Not knowing how you were, how your dad was… not being able to have a proper conversation with you because at some point you just stopped replying to me” 

“I know-”

“No, you don’t know shit, Jungkook. You don’t know shit!” you cried, pushing his chest. “I’ve been miserable because of you. Miserable!” you yelled while pointing at him with your finger. 

Jungkook could only cry as you took out your anger on him.

“And the worst part? The worst part-” you stopped yourself. 

You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction. 

“I’m gonna go” you said with a broken cry, shaking your head.

You turned around and started running towards the stairs.

“Y/N!” he called out, running after you.

He wasn’t going to let you go that easily.

As you ran down the stairs, you felt him tug on your arm and you pushed him away. “Let go of me! I don’t want to see you right now, Jungkook” you spat. 

You took two steps down and then gasped when a sharp pain hit your stomach.

“Jagi!” he gasped, grabbing your arm and back. “Hey, look at me, are you okay?” he asked, holding your face. 

“No! Just go!” you groaned, still holding your stomach with your hand. 

You took one step more and then fell to your knees with a cry. 

“Hey, come on. We have to go to the hospital, Jagi” Jungkook said, sweeping you in his arms and holding you bridal style all the way down.

At that point, you stopped fighting. 

For starters, your stomach hurt so bad you lost every coherent thought you had. And also, you missed his touch, even if you hated to admit it, so you were going to soak up the feeling of being in his arms, at least one last time. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Jungkook stared at your sleeping body as he sat next to your hospital bed. 

He chewed on his lip while rolling his piercing with his tongue. His hand went to brush your hair out of your face and he let out a shaky breath as he stared at you. 

“You shouldn’t be sick” he whispered. “I’m so tired of seeing the people I love… in a hospital bed”

He let his finger caress your cheek and his eyes slid shut at the feeling of your skin once again.

You stirred in your sleep and your eyes blinked open a couple of times. 

Your eyes widened when you saw him, and then you recalled everything. 

Namsan.

The stranger.

Your wallet.

Jungkook.

“How did I get here?” you asked, even if you already knew the answer to that. “What are you doing here? I told you to leave”

Jungkook frowned. “How could I just leave?” he asked in a whisper. 

You sighed. “Leave, Jungkook. It wouldn’t be the first time anyways” 

He shook his head, trying to shake off your comment as well. “I’m not leaving” he stubbornly said. 

You sat up with a scoff. “Then I’m leaving” you mumbled angrily and yanked the blanket off of your lap. 

A doctor walked towards you and smiled. “How are you feeling now?” he asked, digging his hands in his pockets. 

“I feel fine” you said curtly, cursing the doctor internally for preventing you from leaving the room. 

“What does she have?” Jungkook asked, standing up. “Is it serious?” 

“Yes, and no” the doctor smiled at Jungkook. 

“If it’s not serious then why is she hurting so badly?” he asked, raising his voice a little.

The doctor chuckled and looked at you. “Your boyfriend is fiercely protective about you, isn’t he?” he asked you.

You frowned. “He’s not my boyfriend” you shook your head.

“Right, my bad. Are you taking any sort of pills daily?” he asked you.

Your eyes drifted down to your lap and you nodded your head. “Yeah”

“Which ones?” the doctor asked you and Jungkook turned to look at you.

You blurted out the name of the pills that the previous doctor had given you the recipe for. The pills that helped you calm your anxiety.

Jungkook’s eyes widened. 

“Oh, are you taking them every day? Being consistent?” he asked you, arching an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Sometimes, yeah” you said quietly. 

The doctor hummed. “You should be taking them every day if a doctor prescribed them for you” he told you. “It’s important”

“I know” you replied. 

“Okay, I’d believe that’s the solution to your stomach pain, miss. It’s important that you take them so they stop” he said. “Did you drink alcohol today?”

You licked your lips as you fidgeted with your hands. “Yeah…” you sighed.

The doctor hummed. “Well, you shouldn’t drink while being on meds, miss” he told you. “One glass of beer is fine, or wine if you like. But it’s for the best if you not drink at all”

You nodded again, feeling dumb.

“Alright, that’s all for today. You kids can go home” he smiled at the two of you.

“Thank you, doc” Jungkook said and then let out a sigh when he walked away. He sat down next to you and put a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. “You’re taking pills?”

You scoffed and stood up from the bed. “Don’t act like you care about me, Jungkook. You can drop it already” you said and quickly walked out of the room.

“Hey, Y/N!” Jungkook called after you, following you out of the room.

He caught you in the hallway and you turned around with a sigh. “Let me go pay for this and we can talk, okay? Maybe I can drop you home” Jungkook pleaded, “You don’t even have to talk, you just need to listen to me”

You rolled your eyes and nodded. 

He smiled slightly at you and it made your stupid heart do a turn. “Okay, wait here. Be right back” he said, digging his hand in his pocket to grab his wallet and walked towards the reception.

You eyed him and waited for him to be far enough away, and quickly made your way out of the hospital. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Jungkook walked inside his old apartment with a long sigh and turned on the lights. It looked a little empty but it was still looking like he had never left. 

He felt defeated. He had not expected to find you. But at the same time, he was sad that you had run out of the hospital without having a chance to talk to you or even have you close to him if he had the opportunity to drop you off at your house.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he took it out, noticing it was his family’s employee, Mr. Hwang.

Mr. Hwang: I put your luggage in your room, sir.

Mr. Hwang: I didn’t get to give it to you because you left in a hurry. Where did you go?

He smiled at the text.

He had gone to Namsan because he was hoping you’d gotten to read the message behind the photo strip. 

And you did.

You remembered.

Jungkook: It was snowing. It was the first snow

Mr. Hwang: Huh?

Mr Hwang: Sorry, sir. I don’t understand.

Jungkook: It’s okay, don’t worry. 

Mr. Hwang: Alright. 

Mr. Hwang: I parked your car at the garage. Left the keys by the table.

Jungkook: Got it. 

Jungkook: Thanks for today.

He put his phone in his pocket and headed to his room. 

Jungkook’s lips stretched into a smile when he saw the portrait by the nightstand, which had a picture of both of you, smiling big. It was still there after all this time. 

You two looked so in love, like you knew that nothing would happen. And what a lie.

Jungkook sat on the bed with a little huff and took his phone out.

He scrolled down his contacts and came across yours.

With a click, he opened your contact and saw the call button, his finger hovering over it. 

“Grow up, come on” Jungkook whispered to himself. “Grow some fucking balls”

He clicked on the button, calling you, and placing the phone up to his ear. 

Meanwhile, you were sitting in your bed, back at your apartment, texting Jimin.

Jimin: you got home okay?

You chewed on your lip and replied to him.

You: just got back, chim

You: good night.

Jimin: good night <3

You smiled and then immediately frowned when your phone buzzed with an incoming call.

Jungkook was all you could read on your screen. 

Your heart started beating wildly as you stared at your ex boyfriend call and you quickly declined it, throwing your phone on the bed. 

Back at his home, Jungkook pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at his home screen. 

You had declined it. 

He let out a little sigh and decided to send you a text. When he opened your chat, he saw the last message you had sent him, specially those last sentences:

I won’t contact you anymore.

I promise.

I just felt like this was for the better. Writing a goodbye letter to get closure.

So that we can get some closure.

So that I can get some closure.

Goodbye.

He shook the feeling off and quickly sent you the text he wanted to send.

Jungkook: You got home okay?

His fingers hovered over the screen, itching to send another text but he decided not to. 

He had something bigger to think about. 

「 ✦ 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐈'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐨𝐫

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐭

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 ✦ 」

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The next day, Jimin had invited you to a restaurant you both often ate in for lunch. He had sensed you needed some cheering up, kind of like you always did, but for some reason, he felt like you needed it more than ever. 

You were playing with your tteokbokki and when you finally threw it in your mouth, and started chewing it, you felt your eyes watering.

“Y/N, hey… are you crying?” Jimin asked you, placing his hand on yours. 

You sniffled and shook your head. “It’s just… the tteokbokki is spicy” you tried chuckling. 

Jimin frowned. “You’ve always handled the spice very well” he said, and threw a piece in his mouth.

You sniffled again and his eyes found yours. Now, you were fully crying. You lifted your hands up to your face to cover it, feeling embarrassed. 

“Hey, you are crying, Y/N” he cooed, grabbing your hand as he chewed. “What happened? Did someone said something to you at work, did-”

“No, no, no” you shook your head.

Jimin made a confused face. “Then, why are you crying?” he asked you. “Did something happen?”

“I just- It’s Jungkook” you sighed. Jimin felt like kicking the chair he was currently sitting in. “I saw him yesterday”

Jimin pulled his face back. “What? Jungkook’s back?” he asked, his eyes widening almost like they were going to pop out of his head.

You nodded. “Yeah… and I didn’t want to see him. It wasn’t in my plans, but-” you cut yourself off with a sob. “I went to Namsan and I got your call, and everything was okay but then… he was there, I saw him there” you explained as you cried.

Jimin’s face softened. 

“And I missed him. I missed him so much” you cried again.

“God, that prick” he muttered. 

“He’s your friend, aren't you going to see him?” you asked him, wiping away your tears.

“He’s my best friend” Jimin nodded. “We’ve been talking every once in a while, when he was in the States and all, but… I’m not gonna lie and say that I liked what he did to you”

You nodded, eating more tteokbokki. 

“I’ll probably go to his apartment later. Who knows” Jimin shrugged. “But tell me, did you guys talk or something?” 

“He um… he took me to the hospital” you mumbled in a small voice.

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Excuse me? What?” he yelled.

“Shh!” you said, batting your hands at him. “Don’t shout!”

“Okay, okay. Sorry, but please explain yourself” 

“I had anxiety pain, you know, the ones that kick in my stomach” you explained. “And he basically grabbed me and carried me to the hospital”

“And did they-”

“No, they just told me to keep taking my pills… cause I kind of stopped taking them” you shrugged, not meeting his eyes, knowing that you were going to disappoint him.

Jimin scoffed, “Y/N, you know how important it is for you to take those goddamn pills” he scolded you.

“I know” you said, your voice turning small.

“And did you guys talk?” 

You looked at him and shook your head. “No, he told me he came back because he missed me. And I didn’t fucking believe him. Then, I ran away, had those bad stomach pains, he took me to the hospital, I ran away from the hospital, and here we are” you said with a sarcastic smile. “But other than that? Nothing”

Jimin nodded his head. “I could talk to him if you wanted to”

You quickly shook your head, “No, no. I don’t want you guys to fight and stop being friends because of what happened between me and him. That’s not fair. You shouldn’t pick a side” you reassured him. 

He looked at you, like he wasn’t sure if you meant that.

“I’m gonna have to try harder now”

Jimin looked confused. “Try…?”

“Try to forget about him” you said, standing your ground. “Even if he’s around”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Jimin left you by your building and drove off. With heavy legs and mumbling nonsense under your breath, you got into the elevator and punched the button to your floor.

You slumped against the elevator wall and tucked your head into the palms of your hands. 

“Why is this shit happening to me?” you whispered.

The elevator dinged, meaning it had reached your floor and you walked out of it. 

When you made a turn to walk to your door, you gasped. 

Jungkook was there and he noticed your presence when he looked up.

“What a coincidence!” Jungkook smiled. “We meet here” 

You frowned, confused to your core. “What’s this? What are you doing here? This is my apartment” you spat angrily and confused all at the same time.

He smiled at you again and you felt uncomfortable, feeling naked under his stare, making you shift. 

You turned around and headed to the elevator without waiting for him to give you a response to your question. 

“Where are you going?” he asked you, frowning, getting inside the elevator with you.

You didn’t answer him and punched the button to the lobby floor, trying to fleet away from there.

“Where are you going, Jagi?” Jungkook asked you, using that dumb nickname.

“Don’t follow me” you said sternly, trying to get as much space as you could, away from him. 

“I’m not following you, I’m going out, too” he shrugged. “Another coincidence, don’t you think?”

You sighed and you felt like the elevator was going the slowest you’ve ever seen since you’ve lived there.

“Have you had lunch yet?” he asked you.

You ignored him once again.

“Can you at least look at me?” he asked you, his pleading voice making your knees weak. 

You felt him walking closer to you and your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest.

“The first snow fell yesterday, why were you at Namsan?” he asked you and smirked. “You remembered me, right?”

You felt the doors of the elevator open and you basically jumped off, walking as fast as you could, away from Jungkook.

“Y/N!” he yelled after you, following you out. “Hey! Be careful with your stomach!” 

You continued walking as fast as you could until you saw a taxi by the entrance of your building. 

“Taxi!” you gasped and quickly threw yourself inside to the backseat of the car, shutting the door. 

“Y/N!” he yelled and tried to get inside as well but the taxi sped off.

He let out a frustrated huff when he saw the taxi driving away.

He had to think of other ways to get to you.

「 ✦ 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 ✦ 」

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You walked inside the salon you were working at and went to the front desk to find Karina typing away on a computer.

She smiled at you and then frowned.

“Hey, bubs, what are you doing here? Your shift doesn’t start in two hours” she asked you. “What’s with that long face?”

“Hi, long story short, Jungkook’s here and he’s following me and I need to work or else I’m gonna throw myself under a bus right here and I really want to continue living, so please check me in” you said out in a rush.

Karina’s eyes widened like plates at the sudden bomb of information you dropped on her. 

“Oh…kay” she nodded slowly. “Please explain yourself and give a little context?” 

You let out a sigh and dropped your head. “Basically, Jungkook’s back”

“He’s back? You’re kidding me!” Karina gasped.

“No. I’m not kidding you, and I went to Namsan after our night out at the bar yesterday. I don’t know why I did, I just heard it was the first snow and- well it doesn’t matter” you shook your head, not wanting to give her that piece of information. “And I saw him there, and ever since then, he’s been following me”

Karina pulled her face back, like processing your story. “Wow, that’s… a lot” she breathed out.

“Yep, tell me about it”

“And he’s following you?” she asked you.

“Yeah, the man’s crazy. He was waiting for me at my door, at my apartment. And I got there and saw him and ran here. I didn’t want to get in my apartment and risk him getting inside too” you explained.

“You’re not scared of him, are you?” 

You scoffed at the comment. “No, of course not. He’s harmless. But I don’t want to see him. I’m not ready yet” you explained. “He went radio silent for a year, why now?” 

“Yeah…” Karina nodded. “I get it, girl” 

You squared your shoulders and cracked your neck. “I need to get to work, Kari. I- I need to get my mind off of this shit” you exhaled. “Believe it or not, snarky bitches who demand you coffee is something I’d rather deal with than Jungkook”

“It’s reasonable. I’ll check you in, you go change” she said.

“Great, thanks” 

You walked towards the changing room, and put on your work outfit. You rubbed your temples, trying to soothe down the uneasy feeling from before and got out of the changing room, grabbing your stuff and stuffing it inside your pockets. 

Your boss appeared with a smile.

“Hey, Y/N! You’re early today!” she chirped.

You nodded and bowed your hair down a little. “Yeah” you said. 

“Well, it’s good to have someone so committed like you in our salon. I’m glad. There’s a very handsome gentleman over there that needs prep, so… if you could go over there and give a helping hand” your boss smiled and walked away.

“Sure” you called over and walked out of the staff room. You weren’t about to tell your boss that it wasn’t that you were that committed to your work, you were just trying to escape from your ex boyfriend. 

With a sigh you walked across the salon and saw the man your boss referred to, reading a magazine, his back facing you.

“Hello, sir, wel- what are you doing here?”

The man looked up to meet your eyes and smiled.

Jungkook was there, sitting happily as he pretended to be invested in a Cosmopolitan magazine. 

“How did you even know I worked here?” you said, angrily but also surprised. 

He just chuckled. “What a coincidence!” he smirked. “You work here? When do you get off from work?”

You scoffed and looked away. “Who told you? Taehyung, was it?” you asked him.

“It’s really a coincidence” Jungkook insisted. “Taehyung didn’t tell me anything”

You huffed, “You just happened to visit a beauty salon? You?” you arched an eyebrow. 

“I mean it, I came to get my hair done” he said and smiled at you.

You rolled your eyes. “Sure. Get your hair done and leave, please” you said.

After a while, Jungkook sat there, still flipping through the pages of that Cosmopolitan magazine, with his hair wet and freshly cut, ready to be dried. 

The hairdressers were whispering about how pretty he was and it got on your fucking nerves. 

“Excuse me!” Jungkook called and you turned around. “Can I get something to drink, please? I’m really thirsty” 

You glared at him and your boss pushed your arm a little. “Hey, go get him a coffee, go!” she said hushedly.

“Okay” you muttered and went to make Jungkook the fucking coffee. 

As you were preparing the coffee, one of your co-workers came to talk to you.

“You gotta give him some sweets for free, look at how cute he is” she whispered to you.

You faked a smile as she walked away. “Bitch” you muttered. You placed the coffee on the tray and looked at the sweets she had put there. “Jungkook doesn’t even like those-” you stopped yourself and rolled your eyes. “Who am I kidding? Why do I remember all this stuff” you said, grabbing the tray and walking towards Jungkook. 

You placed the tray on the table in front of him and walked away, without sparing him a glance. 

You knew his eyes were following your every move. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

After your shift, you walked out of the changing room with the clothes  you had arrived in. 

You walked down the hairdressing area and felt disappointed to see that Jungkook wasn’t there anymore.

Hold up? Disappointed?

You scolded yourself. You didn’t have to feel disappointed because he left. You didn’t have to feel anything for him at all. With a shake of your head, you continued your walk.

You said goodbye to your boss and smiled at Karina who was waiting for you. 

“Everything okay?” she asked you. “I tried texting you after appointing Jungkook but you weren’t answering”

You sighed. “Yeah, I left my phone in my bag” you told her. “Thanks, though. Let’s go”

Karina linked her arm with yours and walked out of the salon.

Once you were out, you noticed Jimin was there, waiting for you.

“Oh my God, look who it is!” Karina smiled. 

“Hey, Karina. Hi, Y/N” Jimin winked at you.

“Hey, Chim” you said. “What- what are you doing here?” you asked him.

“Let’s hang out” Jimin shrugged, making you pull your face back. 

“Huh?”

“You agreed to go on another date with me, do you remember?” Jimin asked you.

You frowned. “Jimin, we literally had lunch together today” you told him.

“Yeah, at a normal, boring restaurant that we go to every single day, Y/N. Let me treat you to a fancy one” he smiled.

“Alright, I’m gonna go” Karina smiled, and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Love you, babes, bye!”

You waved at her and clenched your hands, an anxious habit you had. 

“So?” he asked with an eyebrow raised. “Do you accept another date with me?” he asked and then stepped in front of you, grabbing your face. “Don’t think about anything else today, just about me. Okay? Let me take your mind off for a little while”

You pressed your lips together and nodded your head. “Okay, what are we doing then?” you smirked at him.

He let go of your face and stepped back a little. “Just trust me and follow me” he chuckled, offering his arm.

You curled your arm around his and gave him a strange look. “Okay… don’t you sound like a total creep right now” 

Jimin just chuckled and led you to his car, speeding off to wherever he was going to take you.

Just as you drove off, Jungkook had turned the block and walked inside the salon with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. 

He smiled at them as he smelt them and looked around for you. 

But as he looked around, he couldn’t find you.

Jungkook let out a frustrated sigh and turned around, just to find Karina walking back inside the salon, looking for her phone, apparently.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw Jungkook and walked towards him.

“Jungkook, what are you doing here?” she asked him and then looked at the bouquet.

“I’m looking for Y/N” he replied.

“Oh, she just left… with Jimin” She added.

Jungkook felt his stomach dropping. 

Jungkook wasn’t an idiot. He knew how much Jimin liked you and pined over you while you obliviously held him there next to you as a friend. 

He was going to be damned if he took you away from him.

「 ✦ 𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲, 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐚𝐲: 𝐈 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐜𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐝, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮✦ 」

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You sat by a bench with Jimin next to you as he helped you put on your ice skates.

“Why did you choose ice skating out of all things?” you asked him.

Jimin chuckled. “I heard it’s something guys do when they wanna take the girl they like out on a date” he smirked, finishing the tie on your skates. “You know the cliché. If she falls, you help her up” 

You pushed his shoulder, earning a laugh from him. “You watch way too many rom-coms, Jimin” you told him.

“Well, you can skate and flirt all at once” he shrugged. 

“I’m not good at skating. In fact, I’ve never done it before” you told him.

Jimin looked at you with wide eyes. “Really? Me neither!” he said with a smile. 

You pulled your face back. “Eh?” 

“Yeah, I’ve never skated before” he shakes his head. “We gotta see, then” he shrugs and stands up.

Jimin offered his hand and you eyed it with hesitation. 

“If I fall and hurt myself, I’m killing you” you said and grabbed his hand, earning a little chuckle from him.

Once you got on the rink, you easily caught the vibe of it and simply skated freely. Jimin, who had lied to you and was an excellent skater, started thinking of ways to get to ‘fall’ and he started moving his arms in the air.

“Whoa, whoa!” he gasped and you grabbed his arm, stabilizing him.

“Hey, be careful!” you said, he grabbed your waist.

He chuckled at you and grabbed your hand, pulling you with him to skate.

“You said you never skated!” you yelled at him. “You tricked me!”

“Welp, I lied” he shrugs with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes. “Help me, come on. I look like Bambi on ice” you said and he laughed.

“Come on, do this” he said and showed you the moves he made with his legs. 

“Like this?” you showed him and he nodded. “My God, I probably look ridiculous” you muttered. 

“You’re great, look at you!” he chuckles. “You’re a fast learner, Jagiya!”

“What? Oh!” you said, and then regretted stopping, because your skate slipped and you fell flat on your ass. 

“Y/N!” Jimin yelled and quickly crouched down. “You alright? Did you hurt yourself?”

“I’m- I’m okay” you winced. “I think I hurt my palm, though”

He helped you up and after a few minutes, he walked you out of the rink. You sat on a bench holding your hand open as he wiped the ice with the sleeve of his coat.

“Does it hurt?” he asked you, rubbing your wrist.

You shook your head. “No, no, I just skinned myself a little. But it’s fine” you said with a smile. 

“Wait-” he said and dug his hand in his pocket, taking out a little band-aid. 

You frowned, confused as to why he would have a band-aid in his pocket.

“Do you remember, last month, when you and Karina got so drunk that me and Tae had to carry you back home?” he asked with a chuckle. 

“Yeah… why?” you asked.

“Well, you went home with a scraped knee, because you fell. I had to buy some band-aids for you and well, I guess I never took them from my pocket” he told you.

“You were the one who put the band on my knee?” you asked with a smile.

“That was me, yeah” he nodded. “You fell trying to climb a bending machine”

“Oh my God, I don’t even wanna ask” you mumbled. 

“Let me put the band-aid on you” he said. 

You watched him as he took the lids out and you sighed, grabbing the band-aid.

“Let me put it on myself” you huffed and placed it on your palm.

Jimin gave you a look and nodded. 

He was spiraling inside. He wanted to make you comfortable, and let him dote you. Let him take care of you like you deserved.  

Jimin wasn’t going to lie to himself, but he was pretty pissed off at Jungkook. He had been when he broke up with you, for making you sad. And now that he was back, he was pissed off he had shown up and was willing to take you back like nothing happened, just when he had found the courage to take you out and confess his long time feelings for you. 

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and looked away. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

An hour later or so, you found yourselves at a restaurant, eating some ice cream to finish the date. 

“You know? I should’ve ordered something more fancy for us” Jimin said as he took a bite from the red velvet cake. 

“No, it’s really good. I haven’t had a cake this good in a long time” you groaned, eating more cake. “And honestly? All the sweets I’ve been eating are just shitty licorice strips from the convenience store. Let me enjoy it” you scold him. 

He chuckles at you. “Whatever you say, Jagi”

“Stop calling me that” you said immediately, your face flashed with an angry look.

Jimin’s smile fell. “Oh, I’m- I’m sorry” he stammers, feeling flustered at you calling him out.

You let out a breath, feeling like shit for spatting at him like that. 

“I’m sorry, Chim” you sighed. “I just… don’t like that pet name” you lied.

You forgot Jimin knew you like the palm of his hand and could sense when you were lying.

“Did Jungkook call you that?” he asked you in a soft tone.

You looked at him and then back at the cake. “Yeah” you said in a small voice.

“Figured. I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you feel-”

“It’s okay, Chim. I know you didn’t” you smiled at him. “Can we please change the conversation topic? I feel like we can’t ruin this hell of a cake talking about Jungkook”

Jimin nodded with a genuine smile. “Yeah, let’s do that”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Jungkook parked his car in front of your building and sighed as he looked at the entrance.

“Please, give me a chance” he spoke against the steering wheel. “Please, please” he whispered again.

He got out of the car, without noticing the car that had just parked in front of your building.

“You didn’t have to drive me home, you know?” you asked him as you got out of the car and he did as well. “I could’ve just called a cab”

He chuckled. “Y/N, this is a proper date. It wouldn’t be gentleman-ly to not do that” he said.

You cocked your head to the side. “Is that even a word?” you asked Jimin.

“I guess not” he laughs. 

“Well, we’re here. Thank you for… well, everything” you exhaled. “I feel like I don’t deserve it”

Jimin walked closer to you. “Y/N…” he said lowly.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close into a hug. He had a hand on the back of your head and the other one, resting on your lower back. 

You let out a gasp, in surprise and hugged him back.

“This is nice” he whispers. 

“Yeah…” you tried convincing yourself. 

Jimin looked up, only to find Jungkook in front of him on the opposite sidewalk, staring at the scene. 

He was wearing the most heartbreaking face, and Jimin hated to admit, but it hurt seeing his friend looking like that.

But you were single. 

And he had waited a long ass time to finally have you like this in his arms. And maybe you didn’t feel the same, but he was going to try his best to prove to you that he was a better match. 

Jungkook’s shoulders visibly dropped as he stared at you.

Then, his eyes narrowed. 

What was Jimin doing with his girl?

How dare he?

「 ✦ 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

𝐈'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 ✦ 」

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

PREVIOUS // NEXT

[hanichani]

Pairing: han x gn!reader, han x lee know, slight lee know x gn!reader

Genre: fluff, suggestive

Summary: being besties with hanji apparently entails a lot more than just friendship

Warnings: complicated relationships i guess?, boy on boy action/relationship is mentioned but nothing explicit

Word count: 827, I really dk how to write long fics smh

a/n: I've been so inactive oh my god but oh well. merry christmas to anyone who celebrates <3 here's a little hannie/minsung drabble. hope you liiiike it!

best friend hannie who's not really your best friend.

8:34pm ji: SOS

8:34pm ji: HELP ME

8:36pm ji: HELLO EARTH TO Y/N I NEED U

8:39pm ji: cmon i neeeeeeed u

8:40pm y/nn: r u dying

8:40pm y/nn: if not then leave me alone, im busy

8:41pm ji: but min is busy too >:(

8:41pm ji: and i am dying actually

8:43pm y/nn: no ur just a fucking horndog

8:43pm y/nn: text one of ur other hookups

8:44pm ji: but no one does it like you :(((

8:44pm y/nn: ur full of shit

8:45pm ji: u love it ;)))

8:47pm y/nn: ugh

8:47pm ji: soooo?

8:50pm y/nn: omw

you sigh, feeling annoyed but whenever he says, you’re always there to help him and you don’t even mind being one of the many because you know that jisung is a whore and nothing is going to change that. besides, you’re best friends, he’ll always put you above meaningless hookups (if he’s not too horny and thinking with his dick). the only person he won’t put you above is minho, let’s face it, he’s head over heels and simply too scared to have a proper conversation with him about it. but also, you think he’s scared that if they made it official, he would have to stop getting physical with you which is a close second to minho and he does not want to risk that.

you don’t mind it. to be honest, the thought of the two attractive men being together does something to you. and even when they’re not doing anything sexual, they make your heart swell. they could be cuddling on the couch when you come over and all you can do is scream on the inside because they look so soft and adorable together. holding each other close, their fingers intertwined while minho teases jisung by letting go of his hand every now and then and then both of them staring at their fingers brushing against each other in slow motion when they connect them again. they should get married. safe to say you’re their number one shipper.

so maybe that’s why it’s so natural for you and jisung to fuck around. you love him and he loves you but you both know it’s strictly platonic, right? jisung could be giving you head and muttering about how minho held his hand in public the other day and how that’s definitely a good sign to which you can only respond with loud sighs and nods of acknowledgment that jisung can’t see anyways.

another time, you could be riding jisung, discussing the outcomes of jisung actually confessing to minho. it’s just a casual conversation between friends…while they’re fucking.

and you're not bothered by it because minho is a very attractive man so thinking about him during sex only gets you going more.

sometimes it spirals into jisung talking about how you should definitely try having a threesome and that’s where the lines blur for you because no way would jisung ever let you do anything with minho. he’s way too possessive over the man and it makes you think that jisung has to have some sort of feelings for you to even think about that. but that thought is gone the next time you’re hanging out at his dorm and he charges in, holding the hand of an unknown girl, heading straight into his bedroom.

so yea, best friend jisung who strangers think you’re dating because they don’t know you two that well (they also think he’s dating minho which leads to them thinking the three of you are a poly couple).

best friend jisung who starts making out with you just because he’s had a long day and wants to take his mind off of it. best friend jisung who slides his hands under your tshirt on the daily “because he’s cold”… while he’s just horny. best friend jisung who plays matchmaker, trying to hook you up with his members only to fuck you senseless later that evening.

best friend jisung who coos at you whenever you get sleepy in his arms and thinks he could eat you up right then and there. best friend jisung who kisses you awake after a night spent together, peppering kisses all over your face.

best friend jisung who thinks about what it would be like if you joined him and minho in bed. best friend jisung who has thought about what it would be like to call both you and minho his. best friend jisung who has the exact same relationship with minho as he does with you. and best friend jisung who does not know how to confess to either of you so he plays it off as having platonic relationships with both you and minho while gushing to min about you and vice versa. best friend jisung who is in love with both of his best friends and does not know what the fuck to do.

[coeurify]

taking care of subby ellie.

Your girlfriend always held so much on her shoulders. The shaking bone of her upper body always sagged slightly at the invisible weight she put on them. Imaginary stone after stone of responsibility Ellie set on top of her nimble shoulders.

Stones you tried so desperately to push away, to clutch your hands around and throw off when she looked at you, when her breath sucked in and spilled the oversaid words “I’m fine, was just a long day.” After every long patrol, every bad day on the pathways of your home Jackson.

There was only so much you could do, especially with the stubborn green eyes of Ellie demanding there was nothing wrong most times. Never one to mope, nor admit she had a problem.

But sometimes, sometimes, when the sun beat down a little too hard— when people spoke a little too roughly— Ellie let you take care of her.

Her converse plodded into the small space of your home, floorboards creaking under the weight of the whole damn world Ellie liked to grip onto. She would call your name, so gently you didn’t always hear it.

Auburn hair moved as she waited patiently, her freckled face shifting as she looked around for you. Eventually, you always came. Your arms always wrapped around her, always pulled her stained jacket from her strong arms, always pushed her fallen hair behind her ears.

Usually, on the days Ellie let the stones be thrown off her shoulders, she ended up on your bed.

“You’re so beautiful, Els,” you would whisper, a gentle hand pressing onto her cheek in a way she usually believed she didn’t deserve.

“Let me take care of you,” you would hum carefully, fingers dancing around the button of her favorite jeans. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

Ellie, pretty, lovely Ellie, always let you. Her trembling fingers always found your hair as your face dipped between her thighs, showing your love through swipes of your tongue against her throbbing core.

“Had such a hard day,” Ellie would admit through ragged breaths.

“Don't worry about that,” you always cooed, staring at your girlfriend with a sense of adoration that made everything feel just a little lighter against her bones.

“I've got you baby, jus’ let go.”

And Ellie did. Only against your palm did that weight disappear. Only from your words did the auburn-haired girl let her body finally relax.

Everyone always expected her to be strong. To know what to do, where to go, and how to act. But you never did. You would guide her through everything, given the opportunity. If you could be the cause of one less frown, one less curl of her nervous fist, you would.

“Fuck,” Ellie always cried, her thighs squeezing between whatever you deemed the proper tool. Sometimes your fingers, sometimes your mouth.

“Feel good?” you would ask, wet lips pressing to her flushed cheek.

“Doing so good for me, baby, my best girl,” your lips usually released some sort of version of this into the air of your bedroom. Quiet and soft, only for you two to hear. Only to confirm to Ellie that she was doing enough. That her just being here was enough. Telling her, in your own way, that Ellie had nothing to prove to you.

When Ellie comes, you are convinced it's a cosmic event. Every soft whimper that sounds, every set of squeezed eyelids or sweaty forehead against your own as her walls clench around you, it’s undoubtedly the eighth wonder of this world.

“Please,” Ellie begged most days. Who were you to deny her? Who were you to stop the breaking dam of your girlfriend’s cunt, pouring over your fingers, onto your tongue, wherever you wanted... wherever she wanted.

“Go on, baby, come for me.”

Ellie didn’t let that weight ever disappear from her shoulders. Not unless she was with you.

[genderkoolaid]

It's so frustrating to see people purposefully misunderstand transandrophobia/transmisandry and then very confidently talk disparagingly about the people who talk about their experiences of it and then blatantly ignore everyone going "hey yeah no that's not what that means"

Like. Devon price trying to frame it like people who talk about transandrophobia are doing so firstly because they're just ignorant misogynistic babies who want to be oppressed so bad and also to try and drive a wedge between transmascs and transfemmes is so fucking disingenuous I don't even know where to start.

We're literally just trying to talk about the experiences transmasculine people have and the institutional problems specific to us? Why is this such a fucking problem?

Its painfully obvious that the people who make these posts do not ever actually engage with the discussion of anti-transmasculinity & the wider transunitist-feminist theories. Its embarassingly obvious in this case because Devon tried to make this sick gotcha, by bringing up one of the most common topics of conversation in our spaces.

And then there's the whole "TMRAs don't realize most of what they deal with is misogyny!" take, which I've seen in other places as well. Which imo comes from the idea that people who discuss transmisandry are literally just the trans version of MRAs. & the MRA idea of "misandry" is just a reversal of their idea of feminist theory- so they use it to describe "actually society is based around women's needs and desires and it targets (cis) men and we actually live in a matriarchy!" While the transunitist concept of misandry/antimasculism is "patriarchal beliefs about men/masculinity & the roles they are expected to fulfill, used both generally to reinforce patriarcharal control and specifically to target marginalized men/perceived-masculine people." I coined antimasculism specifically to provide an alternate to misandry for those who are uncomfortable with it because of the MRA associations.

& like. whether or not you agree that these are useful words, its obvious that the transunitist idea of misandry/antimasculism is very different to the MRA one. But to know that you'd have to actually, like, read the things we write & take seriously to our theories on the patriarchy. And not just trust Tumblr Callout For Evil Trans People #3245853723 that said we don't think misogyny exists.

Also tbh I think a bigger part of this issue (transmascs who are anti-transunitist) is that its a symptom of anti-transmasculine erasure. If you don't personally experience, assault, demonization, or accusations of being a predator for being a trans man, and no one you know has either, then... you certainly aren't gonna hear about those issues from wider society. And even if you have, you might not recognize what happened as anti-transmasculine, or tell yourself it must be only a fraction of what trans women go through. & again, they don't fucking read anything we post. That's why I feel like its so important to point out & remember incidents of anti-transmasculinity (like what I do w the AoVaTP). Because its so easy to buy the "people don't violate trans men the same way" until you've read about (tw for somewhat graphic anti-transmasculine violence)

trans men getting their faces cut off, beaten with a chain, thrown out of men and women's bathrooms, hit over the head with a cooler, having their shelter at a refugee camp firebombed, having hot coffee poured in their eyes while being called a "he-she", institutionalized & tortured for not showing "proper gender behaviors" as a child, having their family burn their documents to keep them from getting a job, forced to jump from a 2nd-story window and left to die, being harassed by Fox News for being a "groomer" until their school got bomb threats, held captive and tortured for two years, found dead with their genitals stabbed, assaulted by a police officer for "lesbian activity", called "tranny" a lot, and so many rapes and so many suicides, and this is just some of the shit that I have collected for that archive.

But yeah. We're just whining about silly representation nonsense.

[deepperplexity]

Prompt: 14. A Light In The Night [A4]

Pairing: Colonel Brandon x Fem!Reader

POV: Second, Reader

Setting: Delaford Estate

Continuation of: Prompt 1. Chimney Soot, 5. Grave Of Snow, & 9. Missing Star

A/N: TWO THINGS OF IMPORTANCE TODAY! One) This is the final part of the Brandon fic! First wrap-up of Rickmas2023! 😱😍👏 Two) IT'S FRIKKIN SMUT TIME DARLINGS! 🔥🔥🔥 Oh, and this is a longer part too, hope you'll enjoy it (just don't ask how my fingers are feeling after this weeks writing shenanigans so far - gosh, I've written so much 😂)🤭😘

Tags/TW’s: Selfdoubt, Adoration, Love, Embracing, Slight Hints At Classism, Feeling New (positive, natural) Emotions & Sensations, Nicknames, Kissing, Confessions of Desire, Respecting Another's Wishes, Gifting Ones Virginity, Sweet Loving, Caring Partner, Penetrative Sex, Future Marriage Implied.

Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name

Word Count: 4.3k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

It had been four days since his confession, and to be perfectly frank, you had yet to fully absorb it. As if the spirits of Christmas had snapped their fingers, all your wishes seemed to be coming true in the span of a mere two weeks. Two weeks ago, you had entered the Delaford Estate in desperate need of employment — or just a roof over your head, and a hot meal would have tied you over for a blessed moment — and now you were dressed in finery, drinking tea in a beautiful parlour with the sweetest hound by your feet on order from its master, the man who had you beyond infatuated, to stay by your side.

It was strange, so very odd, to be seated in such splendour when you only knew how to be the person to serve such people. You had never taken notice of how the rich ladies held their teacups, or how they sat with their legs, or even how they held conversations. You had always been too busy making sure you barely existed in their presence. To serve the tea, remove the empty plates, to not make a sound or be noticed. Now, you were the one to be noticed, the one who was supposed to be able to do things in a fine and proper manner.

Not that any of that mattered to the man who only yesterday had asked for your hand in marriage. For you to be his wife, his partner, to be by his side through the rest of his life. You hadn’t grasped that the ring around your finger, with several diamonds lining the golden band in a delicate fashion, was truly proof of a reality that was becoming yours. Not a dream, not a wish, not a hope — just reality. Your reality.

You sat the teacup down, a slight clinking rang out in the big room as your unsteady hand released it. “Oh, Samson, what am I doing here?” you asked the hound who whined and rested his big head with floppy ears atop your legs. And, then, he entered. Your fiancé, the man who made your blood sing and your thoughts turn bright. He walked with a commanding grace that was gentle and decisive at the same time.

He smiled so sweetly towards you, instantly finding you in the vast room. The thoughts of not fitting in, not being in the right place, not being worthy of the life you had just begun flitted away the moment he held you in his arms. Standing before the fireplace, surrounded by Christmas decorations, all derogatory thoughts of yourself went away. It had nothing to do with anything but him.

“Y/n,” he said softly. “Colonel,” you replied, as was proper. But, he shook his head and gently placed his warm fingers under your chin, tilting your head ever so slightly. “Christopher,” he stated. “Christopher…” His name rolled out of your mouth in a mere breath of a whisper. The word too important, too beautiful, too much of a gift for you to speak any louder.

Your body tingled, warmth spread in places within you that had never warmed before. Your legs were unsteady while you felt an inexplicable need to clench your thighs together as something pooled and unfurled in the most sacred of places. “My sweet, something the matter?” he asked as he placed the back of his fingers on your burning cheek. “You appear flustered, are you fairing?” The concern in his voice was too sweet, too caring — your senses were overwhelmed by him. “I’m fairing, Christopher,” you said but your voice didn’t quite reach the tone you had thought it would. There was something strangely quiet about it, your throat suddenly a little bit thick as you tried to swallow past the fluttering tingle going from your lips all the way down to your very toes.

“My star,” he hummed while his fingers travelled along your jaw until his hand slipped over your shoulder and down your arm until his hand could grasp yours, raise it up, and plant a gentle kiss atop your knuckles. You were becoming hotter by the moment, everywhere he touched you felt as if it burned, despite the fabric separating his skin from yours mostly.

Outside, darkness crept in despite the white snow. He'd been away most of the day, attending to business in town as he’d said at breakfast. How can I possibly miss you so dearly every moment you’re not with me after such a short time? “I cannot wait to have you as my wife,” he said and kissed your hand once more, harder and more ardently than before. Your thighs clenched together at the intense contact. Samson barked a low rumble and walked out of the room with the pitter-patter of his claws against the shiny flooring. “And I you as my husband, Christopher.” Saying his name was such a blessing, he was a blessing.

“My sweet,” he hummed. “You are making it difficult to be a gentleman.” “What do you mean?” you asked, feeling as if the room turned hotter with each passing second in his proximity. He squeezed your hand. “You are too beautiful, too wonderful. It is the most difficult challenge to stay away.” “Then do not,” you exhaled, still not fully grasping why he needed to stay away at all. “My star, you ask too much of me. If I do not stay away, how could I possibly refrain from ravaging you before you hold my name? How can I remain a gentleman when all my desires are within my grasp?”

Your breath hitched, the warmth within becoming a fire as his eyes held yours with nothing but honesty and love within them. You were pressed against one another, neither of you able to separate your bodies while your fingers were entwined on either side of you, your hands firmly held by each other.

“Are you not an honest man?” you asked. “I endeavour to be.” “And are you not a respectable man?” “I believe I am. To the best of my capabilities.” “And with that being said, are you one to keep your word?” “Always,” he affirmed, his eyes taking on a more serious shine. “Then, can we not believe in your honest promise to marry me, as a respectable man who endeavours to go through life in a manner befitting to your beliefs, darling?” you asked, feeling brave and empowered by the way he viewed you most dearly. “You have me at a loss for words. How can I dispute such words when they ring of truth and cater to my selfish want for you?” he nearly purred in that gravely voice of his. “I am yours.” “As I am yours .”

He took a step back, breathing in deep — as if he were desperate for air — and released one of your hands while beginning to turn toward the door. Yet, he did not move, did not tug or pull, not even a step was taken as he watched you with his head turned. He waited for you, and your body could not spare another second to a life where you did not know him intimately.

You squeezed his hand and moved forward. That was the cataclysm, the release of you both and the acceptance of trust between you both. He would keep his word and make you his wife, you would stay with him forever, and in your loving trust, there was freedom from propriety. There was freedom from restraint. Freedom within the warmth which radiated from the both of you, for each other.

The door locked. You were a pining mess for the man before you — with his stiff shoulders and harder breathing stealing your focus. He moved in swiftly, not wasting a second to cup your warm face with his gentle hands. “I will ask one more time,” he said while his eyes flicked between yours. “Are you certain you wish for this to happen?” “I want nothing else,” you said with finality in your breathy voice. “My star, my sweet,” he murmured before his thin lips clashed against yours with a deep groan slipping from his mouth and into yours. It was bliss. It was heaven. It was everything.

Your hands grabbed his wrists, holding onto him while the world fell away. Your body burned for him, your nerves tingling and tensing within you while your core softened as his tongue darted out to tease the seam of your lips. You parted them, allowing him access as your tongue met his and they danced in harmony. A moan slipped from the depths of your chest as he pressed himself against you, and you damned your clothes for existing.

His hands slipped from your face, travelling down your shoulders until he could grasp your waist and hold you even tighter while your own hands rested atop his wide shoulders. You could feel every motion of him, every tensing muscle, every effort he exerted to control himself as his fingers found the lacing at your back and began to tug.

You were nervous, uncertain of what to do or what you even felt. All the emotions and sensations he created within you were new, uncharted waters you were fearful of drowning in without him there to guide you through the waves. “I’ve never,” you whispered against his lips, spilling the truth of your innocence. “I would have expected nothing less from such a wonder as you, yet I am surprised no young man has come to steal your purity. I am lucky, blessed to have your trust in this honour,” he said and there was something about him not putting a value on your purity as a possession but as something for you to gift that had you melting in his arms.

A flurry seemed to spring to life, hands tugged at buttons and strings, moved fabrics and undid lacing until you were both naked in the dark room. You were grateful to the dark for shielding your bare body, yet at the same time… you wished to witness all of him, in all his glory.

Your hands travelled along the curve of his waist, feeling the warm skin bared for you while his front was pressed against yours. The slight softness to his stomach paired with the strength of his arms had you thinking of warm cuddles during foggy mornings, of safety and gentle caresses. Then the hardness of his cock pressed against your pelvis the knot between your legs seemed to tie itself up further.

“I wish to see you, my sweet,” he said as he backed away, leaving you standing by the edge of the bed in the dim darkness. The sound of a match being struck rang out over your panted breaths and a little flame flickered to life beside you while the chill of the separation made your nipples peak. A small candle next to the bed spread its golden glow impressively. Yet, your eyes instantly snagged to the man blowing out the match.

His body was far from what you had imagined you would ever be attracted to. His chest was dusted with soft-looking hair forming a trail down his pale stomach your eyes followed almost dutifully until they reached his cock. You had never seen such a sight before, yet it made your mouth water and your insides churn. Your body knew what it wanted, what it wished for, and he was all of it.

“Beautiful,” came his voice in a rumble. You looked up, finding his eyes studying your face intently while your cheeks felt as if they would burn up. You wondered how on earth he would fit within you, if it were going to hurt or if he would be gentle. He will… He will be gentle with me , you thought and he stepped up and kissed you most softly despite the desperation you could feel from him.

He laid you down, guiding you to the middle of the bed while he placed himself between your legs, all the while keeping your lips connected. You felt his weight atop you increase and you parted your legs further hesitantly. The gracing of his cock against your warm clit sent a jolt through you, it was a foreign sensation — yet it felt good.

You moaned as he groaned when he settled himself. You wished to be closer, feel him everywhere and connect within him in a manner your body was by now pleading for. The ache in your core, the pulsing of your inner walls nearly painful as there was merely a palpable emptiness within you.

“My sweet,” he hummed as his lips traced your jaw, a hand gliding down your side until he grasped your thigh gently, the warmth of his hand searingly wonderful. “Christopher,” you panted while your hands glided over his shoulders and up towards his neck as he sank lower, kissing your throat. “I shall be gentle, in all things I ever do with you,” he declared as you began to tense from the need coursing within you. “Please,” you whispered, not fully understanding the sensations bombarding you but knowing they were all from him. “I need to make you ready,” he said against your upper chest. “The first time, it may hurt but I shall do everything to make it pleasurable, my star.”

His lips latched around your nipple and his tongue circled it heavenly. You were a moaning mess as his mouth gently coaxed the warmth burning within you to reach new heights. Your legs tightened around him as his hand travelled down the inside of your thigh before his fingers found your slick opening. You jolted at the sudden touch, alarm bells going off in your head of how intimate it was, how wrongly good it felt to be touched down there — by him.

“My sweet,” he hummed after releasing your nipple. “Look at me.” You did so, tilting your head only to find him nearly framed by your legs, his head right below your heaving chest and those sweet eyes solely focused on you. “Christopher,” you whispered while his finger toyed with the little nub sending pleasurable jolts through you each and every time. “P-please,” you moaned as his eyes lit up with a warm sort of wonder as he watched you take the pleasure he offered. “I need you soft, pliable, soaked, my sweet. I will not harm you deliberately, take the pleasure I’m offering,” he said as he slowly rose, keeping eye contact with you at all times while his slick finger lowered and found your opening.

You panted, your hands grasping at the covers beneath you, while he leaned over you, supporting his weight on one hand while the other stayed at your core. “All the pleasure,” he affirmed as he sank a digit into you. Slowly, gently, carefully stretching you open for him. You moaned and panted, your head pushed into the pillow as you took in the foreign sensation of having something inside you. “My sweet,” he whispered before kissing your exposed neck, still working his finger in and out of you most gently, softly, nearly caressing your insides.

His thumb found its way to your aching clit, stroking it in slow circles while his finger kept up its even pace — it felt as if you’d go mad with the pleasurable torture. “Please, Christopher,” you moaned and he replied with a deep hum of a groan before capturing your lips with his own while he adjusted himself to hover above you — still keeping up the attentions he lavished your core with. “Soon, my sweet star, soon.” He upped the pace a tad, hardening the circling of your clit with that wide thumb of his while his tongue delved in to dance with yours. Your hands found his shoulders, caressing and gripping in intervals while your body seemed to seamlessly shift beneath him. Your legs widened further, your back arched ever so slightly, all while your nerves seemed to tighten and burn with something you weren’t sure you could handle.

You moaned into his mouth, he laid more weight atop you — forcing his hand to rest fully against your core while keeping up the pleasurable touch. The heavy breathing of you both filled the room, your moans swallowed by him as his groans were captured by your mouth. A mixture of bliss and tension within your body.

“You are most delicate. Most beautiful, wonderful,” he said as your mouths parted. Your eyes fluttered open only to find him looking at you with the most devastating look of want and desire. His features were those of someone starved of what they wished for and who was now able to consume that very desire wholly. “My love,” you whispered while his finger plunged a bit harder into you, the golden glow of the candle showing nothing but perfection above you. “My star, my missing star,” he groaned before pulling out his finger to an incoherent plea of yours. You felt deprived, empty without him inside you.

He licked his finger clean with a hum so deep you could feel it in your own toes. He’s tasting me, you thought with a mixture of horror and bewildering want. Your insides clenched around nothing and you could have sworn madness crept in as he took away that touch.

“Delicious,” he said, his eyes never leaving yours. “Delicious, and mine to worship ardently.” He moved higher above you, his hand dipping back down between you both. “Christopher?” you asked as he rose a bit higher by straightening his arm. Your eyes fell down only to see him stroking his bulging cock with the very hand he had just pleasured you with. The tip of his cock, it was covered in glistening pre-cum, he swirled his finger over it twice before pushing down — aligning himself to you while you watched with trepidation and yearning.

“I shall be most gentle, my sweet,” he said quietly, the gravelly voice like music to your soul with its hints of desperation and care. “Look at me, only me,” he said and you did. Your eyes shifted from his cock between your legs to those mesmerising eyes of his while he leaned forward ever so slightly.

You felt the tip of him, and before you had a chance to adjust to the idea of his entirety being able to fit within you he pushed forward with a gentle thrust. He groaned while your eyes fluttered at the sudden sensation which wasn't quite comfortable. “You are doing so well, my star. So well,” he praised while he kissed your forehead before doing the same to each of your cheeks while pushing further in. You moaned with a scrunching of your nose and eyebrows, your body fighting the intrusion. “Relax for me, my sweet. Relax, and grant me access,” he whispered in a near purr while laying half atop you, supported by his knees and arms. And, you did. You relaxed under his gentle words, his pleading for you to let him in.

He moaned, a most heavenly sound, as he pushed the last bit of himself in as your insides stretched and softened to accommodate him. The pinches and twangs of pain were not nearly as bad as you had imagined and over far more swiftly than you would have thought. In the lack of pain, there was only pleasure to be found. His warm body, his thick cock filling you completely while his warm breath danced across your neck and shoulder before his lips kissed the pulse point below your ear most gently.

Christopher began to move, each thrust slickened by you coating him with your want. Your body tensed and curled beneath him as he gently claimed all of you and there would never be another man you wished to know you in such a manner. You were only for him, as you hoped and wished that you would be the only one for him from that day onward.

As he upped the pace, his breathing turned ragged and harsh while you witnessed the restraint he held himself with. He was being so gentle with you, each thrust fast but caring, each plunge into your core a caress of the most loving kind. You wanted all of him, your moaning of his name all you could manage as he took your innocence with a devotion unlike any you could have ever imagined being worthy of.

“Please,” you whispered as he kissed your shoulder. “Please, I feel-, feel-, haaa—” “My sweet,” he panted. “You are mine to worship,” he continued while his hand stroked its way down to your joining. You cried out as his finger found your clit and began to stroke it most deliciously while he managed to keep thrusting into you. The sensations were overwhelming, but oh so good. “That’s it,” he said while your legs tensed and an overwhelming need for something terrifyingly powerful began to take over. “I — oh — I need-, haaa—” you moaned as he kept up the motion, the thrusting, the caresses and kisses and sounds which had you on the edge of something your body desperately sought. It was beyond a want, far more a need than anything else and it came from him — from what he was doing to you.

“Let go,” he groaned while his tempo stuttered, as if he were on the edge as well. As if he were right there with you, feeling something inexplicably wonderfully tight. “No, no, no I—” “Let go, let it go, darling,” he said in a barely coherent voice while moans spilt from between those thin lips you wished to kiss for an eternity.

His thumb pushed harder, sending a jolt of ecstasy through your entire body, making you cry out his name in a strained garble while every muscle in your body began to tremble as pleasure filled each part of you. He groaned and stilled, a pulsing from you and him mixing within you as warmth spurted into you while you were lost to the unfathomable pleasure he offered you, his finger gently slowed to ease you out of the mind-numbing sensations that took such control of your body it felt as if you had been possessed by him.

“Beautiful… Wonderful… My sweet star,” he said as he half-laid on you while you both caught your breaths. The pounding of his heart reached your own and it felt for a moment as if they were beating in tune with each other. “That was… amazing,” you exhaled as his hooked nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “You, are amazing.” “I believe this was your work, my love,” you confessed sheepishly even if your voice didn’t have the strength to take on a tone. “I shall endeavour to please and pleasure you always.” The way he spoke with such sincerity, such gentle love with no hint of anything but honesty. It made your toes curl just as he moved — a gasp slipping from you as he pulled out.

He did not even spare a second before he had moved over to the side of the room, stark naked in the golden candlelight, and you had just enough time to worry about rejection before he turned back with the softest of smiles and a damp cloth in his hand. “Let us take care of you,” he said. “If you will allow me?” “I…” But you nodded, feeling drained in a blissful manner yet aware enough to understand he wished to clean you which made you nervous — no matter how strange that was after what you had just done with him, it felt so incredibly intimate to have him wash you with a cloth down there.

After a few minutes, you were both clean and cuddled up under the thick covers in the bed you had woken up in after having been nearly buried alive in snow two weeks ago. That he had brought you to his bed that very night had had you in a fit at first, but now… well, now you looked back on it as the first declaration of his intentions with you.

“A light in the night,” he hummed while you lay on his chest with his arm wrapped securely around you, his warm finger playing a circle game on your hip. “Darling?” you asked quietly while you watched the grey hair on his chest shimmer in the candlelight. “You, my star… You are a light in the perpetual darkness of night my life has been for far too many years. Your smile alone could brighten my day more than the sun.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your body tensing outwardly while softening inwardly at his sweet words spoken in that perfect voice of his. He kissed the top of your head while you wondered if you were truly blessed with a Christmas miracle in the shape of him. “When spring comes, I shall wed you before all and declare my love for anyone and everyone to hear. My missing star, my sweet Y/n… How I have searched and longed for you.” “And I you, Christopher, my love. My Christmas miracle.”

He gently leaned your head back with his fingers beneath your chin before leaning forward to capture your lips in the most gentle of kisses. A sweet caress of lips in pure need to connect. “I love you,” he said, his eyes not leaving yours while you drew a hitched breath at the sincerity — at feeling just like he did. “And I love you,” you whispered while tears brimmed your eyes and he gently kissed your forehead with a soft smile of his own. “Christmas miracle indeed,” he whispered against your skin and you held on tighter to him while the single candle flame flickered beside you…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: Oh gosh, that was that for our wonderfully sweet Colonel for this Rickmas fic - I hope you've enjoyed it darlings 🥰👏❤ I think they'll have a beautiful wedding in the spring, with lots of love and smiles all around, don't you? 🥰

Q: If you were to have a winter wedding, what would be the most important wintery-item/part of it? 😊 A: I think for me it would have to be snow - I feel like you can't really have a winter wedding if there's no beautifully sparkling white snow ❄❄❄

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[Dec:2023]

[sophiaforevs]

Between the early cancellation of Discovery, Seven/Raffi and Mariner/Jenn being erased in their respective shows, and SNW having queer coded characters but not confirming anything on screen, I'm really afraid that we're entering another "No Gays in Trek" era.

For those who don't know, 90s era star trek featured so few queer characters b/c Rick Berman largely held a policy of not wanting any homosexuality in his shows. And yes, we all remember the handful of episodes that slipped through that addressed it but the fact remains that there were no canonically queer main cast members before Into Darkness in 2016 gave us a five second shot that could be cut when whoever was showing the movie found the idea of two men in a loving relationship disgusting.

Then we got Discovery with multiple queer characters that allowed people to feel seen. And people never stopped bitching about them. The amount of times that I've had to listen to people complain that Adira's only character trait is that they're non-binary despite that literally being a single thirty second scene and never brought up again makes me understand that they very likely don't want to like the queer characters in that show. And it's not that there aren't criticisms to be made about the queer representation in Disco: Discovery Buries it's Gays before the end of the first season. Making your trans characters aliens who already have a history of gender fuckery is problematic b/c it somewhat plays into the idea that queerness is unnatural for human beings. But I never hear those complaints. Only the pronouns. Only the "We get it you're gay but don't shove it down our throats." But I don't want to get too off topic.

Now Discovery is being canceled early. And by early I mean, the writers weren't given proper notice that their show was ending. They were halfway through production and allowed to adjust the end episodes of the season to try to give a satisfying ending.

In Picard and Lower Decks, we got two sapphic relationships ("sapphic" meaning a romantic or sexual relationship between two women who aren't necessarily strictly lesbians) and they were pretty good. People had been asking for Seven to be queer and Jeri Ryan had been playing her as such since her introduction (see again: Rick Berman) and to see her finally get to express that was really healing. Mariner got off to rocky feet when the creators tried to pull a "Dumbledore is gay" where they said she was bi but didn't commit to it, but they she actually got a fairly satisfying relationship in season 3.

But in their most recent seasons, both were completely written out. Seven/Raffi gave us no explanation beyond that they "broke up." They went out of their way to keep them from being on screen together for most of the season. Mattis said in a Reddit AMA that he wanted Seven to be captain and Raffi to be first officer at the end of the season and that Starfleet would have regulations against relationships between the two despite the biggest reason Seven was promoted to captain was that she was a rule breaker. We didn't even get that much for Mariner/Jennifer. Jenn just wasn't in this season except for two background appearances.

And in Strange New Worlds there's just… nothing. SNW is the most recent new show and there's no queer representation. They code Ortegas as gay but don't actually confirm it on screen. There's just… nothing.

And this is how you loose the culture war. The bigots make enough noise that the show that is supposed to be a beacon of diversity doesn't necessarily side with them but they just kinda bow out of the conversation. They decide that it's easier to not bother than to take a stand. And so I and many many queer star trek fans are left wondering:

Does the franchise even want us any more?

[p0ssywhippedcream]

idek if you do HC i feel like ive never seen you do them? anyways cuddling HC w piper mclean 🫧

hey love!! I think I've done a few but they usually turn into small quickies

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

❥ When Piper cuddles, she wraps her entire form around the receiving person. Her legs get tangled between yours, toes sliding down your calves as her arm dives underneath you to hold you tighter. Her hands make a small maze behind your back.

❥ She leaves little kisses across your forehead since that's where she can reach with her head so close to yours. She likes looking at you, your face, being able to affirm herself at anytime that you really are there. With her.

❥ She tends to fall asleep a lot during cuddles, the reassuring motions of your hands on her back and your breath on her face lulling her into dreams. Nightmares don't come often if she falls asleep in your arms and when she wakes up well rested, it's because she's in your grip.

❥ She does like face-to-face cuddles quite a bit, to study your expressions and to be able to kiss you at any time. But she also loves being the little spoon! She loves knowing you don't think go her as a burden and she won't ask for it but always agrees when you offer to spoon her.

❥ She loves being the big spoon too, esp when you're upset or when she feels like smelling your shampoo. She prefers it a lot when you feel like you're weighing her down because it simultaneously lets her ground you tightly and it keeps her facial expressions hidden. She usually gets emotional about her own insecurities hearing you talk bad about yourself, knowing what it feels like and she doesn't want you to feel like she's making it about herself.

❥ She of course cares about your comfort, firstly making sure you're tucked in the blankets and resting on a pillow. She asks every now and then if you're okay with your position, usually when she shifts or you move.

❥ If you seem uncomfortable or tell her you are, she will very quickly and carefully detangle herself, making sure there is a good amount of distance between you two while asking if you're alright.

❥ And if you don't like cuddling face-to-face or so tightly, even though Piper really does, she will agree to anything as long as she gets to hold you. She has intense anxiety over accidentally hurting you or charmspeaking you and will do anything in her power to guarantee your comfort.

❥ She truly though needs comfort herself sometimes, and that's usually how cuddles happen. Her confidence is mostly stable but there will be the occasional moment when it slips and she goes back to thinking she is only trouble and useless.

❥ She doesn't like telling you when she feels this way, hating to be even more of a burden but you can see it in her kaleidoscope eyes. It starts with a reluctant discussion, you reassuring her and eventually tucking her in your arms and gently brushing away tears.

❥ Piper likes the way you love in these moments, all soft and caring and intentional. Love can be messy and confusing but in your relationship, it only gets messy in the kitchen. You always try to communicate with her and she tries to do the same, both of you making sure you have conversations, not arguments and that your needs are met. And after a rough convo, it almost always ends with her holding you.

❥ She can cry a lot during cuddling and sometimes, it's just from the sheer overwhelming force of her love for you. You always keep tissues next to your bed and these special moments where it's just you two intertwining to become one are always a place for vulnerability.

❥ She is definitely a physical touch gal and just needs to be kissed and pet and held sometimes. She can survive without it, esp if you don’t feel like giving it, but she had to go so long without proper attention and affection that it hurts for her to be without it again.

❥ Since she had to deal with an absent mom and an absent dad, knowing that you put down any distractions (ex; books, phone) and just stay present with her as you hold her means the world. She absolutely kisses you dizzy when you just stare at her and listen to her and admire her.

[ameliathornromance]

Cage Fighter! Orc x Reader - Prolouge

A/N: Here it is! I've decided to kind of start the story backwards, from the very beginning of all of this 'going on the run' stuff. If there's any feedback you want to give on how you'd like to see the story go, please comment and I'll consider it when writing the next part. Enjoy the prolouge!

TWs: Orc loses a tooth, mention of drugs and an illegal cage fighting ring and violence.

The room you’d been given as a nurses office was grimy. The walls were spattered with black mould, the examiners table in the corner of the room had chunks of it’s mattress missing, exposing the yellowing sponge, which otherwise would have been clad in the same black faux plastic lining that was held together with duct tape.

You had done your best to sterilise the tools you’d been given, soaking them in alcohol, spraying them with other cleaning supplies and – for good measure – bleach.

Given how dirty the office was you’d been given, you doubted that your efforts to sustain a clean environment would do much. But something, was better than nothing.

Outside of your office, the muffled cheers of the ongoing cage match went on, accompanied with the occasional crack of bones breaking or hard slap of skin on skin as the two fighters collided in battle.

Sometimes, you wanted to cover your ears, sink into your imagination, pretend you were back in your residency, where everything was fine and well… Well, as ‘fine and well’ as it could be. You would try to imagine the clean and sterile office you shared with your fellow students, and their white coats, clean of any kind of bodily fluid, showing off their naïvety to the field of medicine.

But the harsh reality of your situation always came back to you, when the door leading out to the cage would be thumped on and in would stumble this evenings fighter.

Tonight, you were in charge of taking care of the Event organisers favourite toy: Big Money.

From what you knew – being given a file of medical information about the Orc – he was 6’3, was over 201 pounds of muscle and could throw what the Event Organisers so lovingly and excitedly called, ‘the Death Punch.’

That was detailed in the notes of the file. The rest of the medical information was pretty standard, he was aged 28, didn’t smoke, but drank quite heavily, wasn’t sexually active and had no known allergies or conditions.

And, as if hearing your thoughts, a hard thump came from the other side of your door.

You opened it and stepped aside to allow the Orc to enter. Unlike most other combatants, he came in steadily, as if he’d never been in a fight in the first place.

Without so much as a greeting, he sat on the table and looked at you expectantly. Grabbing your tools, you got to work.

There was no point in trying to talk to him. Ninety percent of the time, these fighters were too out of their minds on adrenaline or some kind of other substance to hold a proper conversation and could only answer your basic medical questions.

First, you examined his face.

While beat up, and slowly turning black and blue in certain places, there didn’t seem to be anything too damaged. The tell tale signs of broken bones were absent, as well as anything that would signal lasting damage.

“Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?” You asked him. Holding up three fingers, the Orc grunted. “Three fingers.”

“Can you repeat back to me this sentence? ‘The lazy brown fox jumps over the moon.’”

“The lazy brown fox jumps over the moon.” He repeated back to you. “What was that for?”

“Making sure you still have brain function. Usually, if you’ve been knocked silly, you’d be struggling.” You replied. “One last test: can you spell the word ‘thorough’ backwards?

“’Thorough’?” He repeated. Pursing his lips, he frowned. “h, g, u, o…” He tutted, annoyed at the hard word you’d given him. “R o, h t?”

“Good. What about anywhere else? Anything hurt particularly bad?”

Big Money flexed his arms, then his hands, bandaged to avoid getting any permanent form of injury. You couldn’t ignore the dark red blotches on his knuckles as he flexed his fingers.

Was that his blood or his opponents? It wouldn’t have mattered if it was his, the organisers would still want him back out there.

“No, nothing.” He replied, resting his arms beside his body. “My jaw feels a little numb, but other than that, everything’s fine. Could I get some water? My mouth tastes funny.”

“’Funny’?” You raised an eyebrow. Heading to a door opposite the one to the ring, you poked your head out and called to the doorman, “hey! I need water in here! Something’s wrong.”

The doorman, whose feet has been rested up on his table, counting bills of bloodthirsty viewers, bolted upright, “on it.” And with that, he darted off down the hall.

Pulling your head back in, you gestured for the Orc to open his mouth. “Can you describe ‘funny’ to me?”

Big Money opened his mouth to answer, but it turned out that his body had other plans. Blood spilled from his lips and down his front. He gasped and clutched his hand over his mouth, “shit, sorry, I couldn’t taste anything, I thought-”

But you were already mopping up the blood from his chin and chest. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve had druggies try and bite me before, this is luxury compared to that.” You said.

Once the blood had been cleared, holding the towel under his chin, you looked inside his mouth. While you had studied the mouth and teeth while in medical school, it was not nearly in depth enough for you to be considered any good at diagnosing mouth related issues.

But this was a glaringly simple diagnosis.

“You’ve lost a molar on the left of your jaw.” You observed. The door behind you opened and the doorman stepped inside, holding a bottle of water.

You took it and handed it to the Orc, pulling a bucket out from under the examining table. “Spit into this until the blood stops getting distracting.” It’s not like you could do anything to help him now, the organisers would want him back out there ASAP for his next fight.

For now, all you could do was prolong his time out there before he would need proper medical intervention.

As Big Money did as you asked, you glanced over your shoulder, and found the doorman was still there. He has his arms crossed, and a smirk plastered on his face.

“He’s incredible, isn’t he?” he said, noticing your gaze. “Look at him, even after all that out there, he’s still going to go back out there.” The way this man spoke, was like he was looking at some kind of wild animal, or looking at a circus performer who’d just done an impossible act.

“A complete an utter beast.”

“If you’re going to just stare at my patient, then you can leave.” You said, sternly. “Or, you can make yourself useful and find me some gauze. If you want to see your ‘beast’ out there in the ring, then you might want to do as I say and get what he needs.”

The doorman recoiled, as if he was surprised that you were trying to do your job. But with a scowl and curses mumbled under his breath, he stalked out of the room.

Big Money had finished rinsing his mouth out when you turned back to face him, bucket of red liquid in his lap. He picked up the towel from beside him and pressed it to his lips. “Thank you.” His voice came out muffled from behind the towel. “The last guy who used to help us would treat us like caged animals.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You said, taking the bucket from him. “I’m no professional, but as long as I’m here, you lot won’t be treated like that.”

A moment later, the doorman came back in and tossed a packet of gauze at you, before slamming the door shut.

You caught them clumsily, the bucket of redness sloshing in your hand as you steadied it with your knee. Setting the bucket down on the side of the mattress, you unwrapped the gauze and told the Orc to open his mouth again.

He does as asked and you proceed to pack the thick wads of fabric over his gum. “Did they give you a mouth guard?” You asked him.

Big Money made a negatory ‘uh-uh’ with his open mouth. You sighed. “Alright. Well try to avoid getting hit in the face again… or swallowing the gauze. Your stomach won’t be happy otherwise.”

He nodded and stood up. Stretching his arms above his head, he headed for the cage rings’ door. Placing his hand on the door handle, he looked over his shoulder at you. “What’s your name?”

“(Y/N).” You answered.

“Thank you for helping me out, (Y/N).” And for the first time since being here, you received a smile. An actual, genuine smile.

You couldn’t help but return it as he stepped back out into the ring, shutting the door closed behind him.

The rest of the night went just about as smoothly as you could expect. You got one or two people who were hyped up on something, and completely uncooperative with your attempt to treat them.

One of them was mumbling something under his breath. It sounded like a prayer, but it was hard to say when all you could hear from the ring was shrieks and roars of a crowd entertained by gore.

By the time the night was over, you made a mark up of people you had treated and what for.

Three guys were treated for fractured ribs, two for pectoral tears, Big Money for his missing tooth and numbness in his jaw, and finally, four different guys who were dazed and confused after suffering one of Big Money’s ‘punches of Death.’

No one had been knocked unconscious and no one had suffered any concussions.

In comparison to the first few nights you’d been there, tonight was pretty tame.

You went to hand your report to the Event Organisers, who accepted it gratefully and handed you enough money for the next days standard three meals, plus enough money for bus fair to and from the secret cage fighting ring and then sent you on your way.

Due to the nature of your loan, this was all they would give you. 100 gold coins for your nights work. The rest of the money they pulled in from the sickos who came to see the fights, went into paying off your loan.

And tomorrow would be the same again. 100 gold coins for a nights work.

The cage fighting actually took place in an abandoned car park, down in the underground levels, in the middle of what was going to be a small tourist attraction town, full of weird and wonderful shops that sold trinkets and other strange and impractical things.

But now it laid undisturbed, the wild life around slowly beginning to consume the buildings that would have hosted people from all over the world.

The rest of the car park was filled with the spectators. Most of them looked like the kind of people you’d find in underground fighting rings. Tattoos of gang affiliation, weird body modifications and a few Monsters who come to see the fight.

They were all chatting amongst themselves, probably discussing how that evenings matches went.

A part of it made you feel sick to your stomach. These people don’t see the full damage done by the fighters, but you, you saw it all.

You wanted to shout at them all, tell them they were all sick for enjoying watching people beat each other to a bloody pulp, as if this was just average entertainment for them.

But you kept quiet. If you turned on them, then you might end up in worse trouble than a gang of questionable types intimidating you.

As you left the car park, the voices around you seemed to get louder, bringing you out of your thoughts.

You found yourself greeted by a beat up range rover. And leaning on it, was Big Money. People were walking past him, patting him on the shoulder, or giving some kind of mumbled congratulations, while others simply gave him a curt nod and moved on.

And while he nodded at them, paid them attention, his eyes soon found their way back to you.

When you realised it was you he wanted to speak to, you greeted him. “Hey.”

Why was he out here? Surely he of most people would have been the most eager to get out of the car park. Who would want to be spoken to by the crowd that exited the car park all around you.

Big Money nodded back in greeting, “I wanted to thank you for this evening. Properly.” He pushed himself off his car and opened the passenger door. “Can I buy you dinner?”

You eyed him. Most of these men who fought in the ring, were not people you would want to meet in a dark alleyway at night. And although Big Money was polite and seemed to sincerely want to show you gratitude, that didn’t mean he was safe to be around.

But then again, you were probably the most careful medical professional around and the Event Organisers would get suspicious if you weren’t up to your full standard tomorrow. And then, you could lay the blame on Big Money if he was really planning on doing something to you.

Then Big Money would really be in trouble.

“Alright.” Climbing into the car, Big Money shut the door behind you and got into the other side of the car. “I’m Rok, by the way.”

Your eyebrows went up in surprise as he pulled out of the car park and past the many spectators. “Rok?”

At that, Rok laughed as he came out onto the motorway. “What? You didn’t think ‘Big Money’ was my real name, did you?”

“No, it’s not that.” You said, honestly. “I… just didn’t expect you to introduce yourself to me, that’s all.” It felt stupid to think, but you hadn’t really given much consideration to whether or not ‘Big Money’ was his real name.

“Well, I know your name, why can’t you know mine?” He explained.

You leaned against the cars door, putting your head in your hand. “Well, I just thought that I was just the medic. No one really cares about what I want to know, they just expect me to do my job and keep quiet about it.”

“Same thing here.” Rok replied. “They just want me to get in the ring and fight. They don’t care about what I want. Or what I want to know.”

You frowned at that. The rest of the drive went in silence, before an old restaurant appeared, shining in the middle of the night like a beacon of hope.

The name above the entrance was ‘Ramen No Hai!’ It’s exterior looked as though it had been taken straight from Japan and plonked in the middle of the Western country side.

It’s shoji door had rips and tears in the delicate paper, clumsily patched back together with duct tape. But the windows were lit up and the strong smell of sweet broth caused your stomach to growl with hunger.

Rok stepped out of the car and before you could even put your hand on the door handle, he had the car door open for you.

You raised an eyebrow at him as you climbed out of the car. “You don’t have to do that for me.”

The Orc shook his head, “yes I do. If it weren’t for you, I’d probably be in a lot worse shape than I am now.”

Entering the shop, Rok took a seat at the Ramen bars counter. You sat beside him as Rok was handed two menus by the chef behind the counter. Handing one to you, he asked, “what got you working for them then?”

When you gave him a suspicious look, he gave a shrug. “What? I’m not allowed to know your backstory? No on gets into this job without some kind of rise and fall.”

You thought that this was going to be a kind of thank you meal, you didn’t expect to uncover your whole past to the Orc. But it’s not like there would be any harm in it. He’s right to a degree, no one just starts working for an underground cage fighting ring unless they’re forced into it.

And with that in mind, it’s only natural that some people are kind of curious. Everyones stories had to be similar in some shape or form.

… But yours is a little different than just simply owing the Event Organisers money.

“’Rise and fall’ is a very… gentle way to put it.” You said, carefully. Raising an eyebrow at Rok, you offered, “how about this? I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

Rok smirked, “deal. But you go first, I’m very intrigued now.”

After ordering dinner, you sucked in a deep breath and you exhaled slowly, closing your eyes. It seemed so strange to remember everything now. It was only a few months ago that it all happened, but it was like years had passed.

You recounted, “ever since I was a kid, I’ve wanted to be a Doctor, Nurse, or anything in the medical field. I found the body fascinating, human, non-human, just the way out our systems worked was just…” you searched the air for the word, “incredible. I wanted to know about how all of it worked, why it worked the way it did and how we can fix or maintain our bodies.

“So, I wanted to get into medical school and I needed to borrow money,” you gave him a knowing look and the Orc nodded, understandingly. “I got in with flying colours and started studying. I went into residency in a hospital and we got a patient with Haemophilia.”

Rok nodded, but you got the sense that he didn’t know what the condition was.

“Haemophilia is a condition where the blood doesn’t clot.” You said, simply. “It’s nicknamed ‘the Royal disease’ because a lot of monarchs had it. Anyway, I was being overseen by this Doctor who just didn’t believe in the condition.”

Rok frowned, “’didn’t believe in the condition’?”

You let out a grim snort, “yeah, I know. He was such a stubborn ass. And when all of the medical students tried to tell him that we couldn’t perform specific tests on the patient, he just shouted us all down, told us that ‘we’re just students, we don’t know anything, he’s been a doctor for over twenty years,’” you rolled your eyes. “So, none of the other students wanted to disobey him, so they went ahead with the tests. I didn’t do any of them because I’m not stupid. I told the hospital director about it and he told me that he’s not going to sack a Doctor who’s been working for him for over twenty years so…”

You sucked in a deep breath and glowered at the counter in front of you. “I went to the police. I told them that the hospital was doing malpractice and when the police arrested him, the director chewed me out for it.”

“What about the patient?” asked Rok. “Was the patient okay?”

“Oh,” you pointed at him, “that’s the worst part: because the patient couldn’t clot, she died of blood loss and then guess who got saddled with the blame?” You gestured to yourself. “Me.”

Rok’s jaw dropped. “What? But that’s…”

“I know, ridiculous, stupid. Probably easily disproved. But it turns out when it’s you verses a hospital director, your classmates and fellow residents as well as the ignorant Doctor’s family, no one really cares what’s the truth and what’s not.” Hanging your head, you let out another sigh. “And then I lost my place at medical school and now I’m drowning in debt to them. So, I have to work to pay it all back.”

Silence hung in the air, punctuated by the chefs in the kitchen in front of you, shouting in Japanese to one another, the popping and crackling of frying chicken accompanying them.

“That’s…” Rok started, “that’s horrendous.”

You snorted. “Yeah. I know.” Looking up from the counter, you turned to look at the Orc. “Well, that’s my sad story – what’s yours?”

The Orc stiffened at your question. “Well, it’s certainly not heroic like yours is.” He sighed.

“’Heroic’ is not what I’d call it.” You said, flatly.

“Compared to mine it is. I’m a villain compared to your story.” He snorted. “I was a bouncer at this club. One night, I met this man who was way too pushy about getting in. I think he was hopped up on something or other. Anyway, he didn’t fit the clubs dress code, he got mad, started talking about ‘how cool his drip is’ and ‘how he makes more than me on crypto in a day than I do in a month.’ When I started ignoring him and letting in people who were not shoving their wealth in my face, he started to get violent. Now,” Rok raised his index finger. “As a bouncer, your job is to do one thing: stop people who might be a danger to the business from getting into the place your protecting. And when he started punching and hitting me, I didn’t really have a choice but to hit back.”

You watched as Rok put his head in his hands, “and when I did, he fell to the ground, landed at an odd angle on the curb of the road and broke his arm and ribs. And the next thing I know, I’m in court for ‘unreasonable use of force’, I’ve been fired and now I’m drowning in debt trying to settle this guys medical bills for the damage I caused.”

“And then you wind up in the same position I do.” You said.

“Bingo.” Rok sighed. “I only pushed him away from me, how was I supposed to know that he was going to fall into the road?”

Rok’s incident really seemed to be an unfortunate accident. It’s unfair that he’s being punished for that.

“You couldn’t have known.” You reasoned. “There was no way you could have, you were only doing your job.” Biting your lip, you went on. “Kind of like I was.”

He gave you a confused look, “I don’t think we can really compare our occupations.”

You shrugged. “I dunno, I kind of think we can. We both agreed to protect and help people, I signed the hippocratic oath, you put your body on the line to stop people like that guy from getting in and possibly hurting someone.” Leaning against the counter, you frowned. “And we both got punished for trying to do the right thing.”

Rok thought about it for a moment. “I… see what you mean.”

Just then, your ramen bowls were placed in front of you, the chef placing the bill in a plastic stand.

Rok motioned for a drink and the chef nodded, went over to a fridge and pulled out a bottle of sake, and two small glasses.

After opening the bottle, he set it down in front of Rok and left.

The Orc poured the two of you drinks and held his own glass up. The glass looked like it would fit more into a dolls house while in his huge meaty hands as he spoke, “to us, who worked out to have the shittiest luck when it comes to doing whats right.”

You raised your glass and toasted. At the same time, the pair of you downed the alcohol.

“But at least we have the worst luck together.” You sighed, setting down the empty glass.

“Yeah,” Rok smiled, wiping his lips of the remaining drink. “At least we have company.”

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Taglist <3

@sunndust @greenie-c

[utilitycaster]

I agree what the cast says does not hold as much weight as what happens on stream. I think this is why I get frustrated by the 'Orym is to blame for Laudna killing Bor'dor' debates, using things Liam and/or Marisha have said on 4-sided dive that contradict the actual scene, where Marisha states Laudna barely notices Orym and Ashton, and *nothing* will stop her from doing what she wants to do. At worst, it's inaction. Have interviews and things like that always held so much weight in fandom?

I am absolutely the wrong person to ask here; I was not super in fandom when I was younger. I am going to, as I am wont to do, make some educated guesses but please take with a grain of salt.

I think there's a few things going on. A lot of people have told me that Glee was the first fandom they personally recall where it became about winning more than like, having fun and sharing ideas, and I wouldn't be surprised if that is at least an influence. (The idea that two ships that do not conflict and indeed have incompatible sexualities are in some kind of deathly serious competition is truly so baffling to me that I have to chalk up that particular bit of, if I may use a yiddishism here, mishegos, to Glee for sure.)

I also think that there was a time and there are shows where interviews did (or do) carry more weight, namely, those with executive meddling, or loss of creative control, or, notably, queer ships until quite recently. I have a lot of friends in the Star Trek fandom even though I'm not knowledgeable at all and from what I am given to understand, there's been a few ships squashed or delayed by executive whim or homophobia that the actors would pretty openly and consistently confirm at conventions. (The ones I know are Riker and Troi; and Garak and Bashir; but I have only hazy recollections of TNG and know NOTHING of DS9 so this is second-hand). I've talked about this before, but Word of God used to carry more weight for me when you simply couldn't have same gender romances on network TV or most mainstream film without risking your career. Now? You're a coward and a panderer.

Anyway I think with actual play specifically, which is improvised (ie, intent can shift dramatically and unexpectedly) and which has a lot of talkback shows and also a disproportionately huge amount of content people get in the habit of cherrypicking, and in extreme cases this turns into cherrypicking themselves straight out of the actual narrative and into microexpressions and OOC interviews and side conversations from three years ago.

I also, and I am too tired and too many drinks in (two drinks in, to be clear) to articulate this tonight, find that actual play in particular has amassed a certain fandom that I think was attracted to things I like and support (queer characters, women/queer people/POC creating and driving their own characters, independent creator-owned productions, improvised and therefore at times really unique stories, not needing to have streaming services in some cases) but also doesn't actually like Actual Play as a medium (see: every single D20 fandom meltdown low-key boils down to "I have zero genre awareness of both whatever is going on narratively and also I high-key loathe D&D as a means of storytelling and particularly the existence of violence in narrative, yet I am watching the Violent Narrative D&D show, so dance or me, my puppets, wait why aren't you dancing.") So I think you get a lot of people who are just making dumb fucking arguments because they decide what they believe and then poorly reverse engineer the support instead of doing things in the proper order and I think the people claiming Orym is responsible for Bor'Dor's death are in that category and we should stop treating them as people who are adding anything of worth to the conversation.

[amazingmsme]

Under the Table

AN: Was worried I might not finish since I was leaving my nana’s house today, but I was able to get it done pretty early! Here’s day 8 with the Shelby sibs ganging up on Tommy!

Perhaps the only time the Shelby family behaved like a normal, proper one was when they sat down for dinner. The sound of silverware clanking and scraping against plates could barely be heard over soft chatter. Talks of what they did that day, requests to pass the potatoes, and compliments on a delicious meal well made. You didn't make a scene at dinner, unless you wanted to face the wrath of Aunt Polly. Dinner was when they all behaved like civilized people and held conversation. Everyone knew that, especially Ada. Thomas shot her a glare, which she returned with an innocent grin.

He felt another squeeze on his knees and swore under his breath just as he hit the underside of the table. A loud bang startled everyone, jostling plates and causing glasses to slosh precariously. Polly gave a stern and unamused look from across the table, arching a brow.

"Everything alright Tommy?" she asked, though it was clear it didn't come from a place of concern. He gave a curt nod, staring intently at his plate.

"Yes, everything's fine."

"You sure? 'Cause that's about the fifth time I've had to catch my glass before you knock it over," she said accusingly. "So what's got you so damn fidgety?"

"I assure you, I'm fine," he insisted, making Ada stifle a laugh. Tommy fixed her with a look as Polly shifted her attention. Ada beamed from ear to ear as she scribbled her nails over her brother's kneecap, making him spasm and fight back a laugh. Unfortunately for him, his family was accustomed to the sight and slowly put two and two together.

"And you? Mind sharing what's so damn funny?" she asked, cocking her head expectantly. Arthur bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, glancing at Tommy across the table.

"What, I can't be in a good mood?" she asked, leaning forward not so subtly and latching onto both of his knees. Thomas couldn't hold back the bark of laughter as he curled up, kicking the table so hard it hopped off the ground. Arthur stopped his and Polly's plates from sliding off. She was trying hard not to appear amused.

"Not if it's going to ruin our dinner," she said curtly.

"I don't see how that has anything to do with me. Tommy's the one flailin' about!" What had been one off squeezes turned into relentless ones, and he found himself sinking down in his chair as loud hysterical laughs echoed through the room.

Everyone was amused, eyes fixed on the scene before them. Arthur at this point was laughing along and managed to catch one of his brother's kicking legs. Tommy's eyes went wide and his chuckles kicked up a notch, morphing into nervous giggles as he tried in vain to stop him from taking off his shoes.

"NO! Arthur, Ihihi'll kill you!" he threatened, even holding his butter knife in a defensive position to add weight to his words, but it still wasn't enough to negate the effects of his rarely heard laughter.

"Well there's a sight you don't see everyday," Finn joked, a wide grin in his face as he watched from across the table. "Ada, don't forget to go for his ribs!"

"Nohoho, dohon't you dahahare!" he growled through gritted teeth, desperate to hold back but breathless snickers continued to push through the barricade of his teeth. He looked to Polly with pleading eyes. She was the only voice of reason in this madhouse, and the only one who wouldn't outright turn on him.

She knew she should put an end to this, to save Thomas from the wrath of his siblings and turn their attention back to their food, where it should be. But it's been so long since she's seen them all get along like this. And when was the last time she'd seen Tommy actually laugh and enjoy himself. So she really couldn't stop the fond smile that found its way on her face, or the warm feeling growing in her chest.

"Pohoholly! M-make thehem stohohohop!" he pleaded, but she saw something sparkling in his eyes and she knew: he was having fun.

"If you make him flip the table, you're all cleaning up." He scoffed indignantly at that response before chuckles and snorts overtook him once more.

"Except you Thomas,  I'm sure this is already punishment enough," she teased, shooting him a wink from across the table. She grabbed her plate and glass of water and left them to their devices.

And when she heard a telltale crash followed by Tommy's smug voice, "That's what you fucking get!" she just smiled to herself. She peeked in through the doorway to see Arthur, Ada and Finn picking up scraps of food and china from the floor. Thomas stood in the corner, brushing himself off and glaring at the lot of them, fighting off his grin.

"So, was it worth it?" she asked.

"No," Tommy answered the same time the rest answered with an enthusiastic yes.