#hadn’t made any friends. I don’t think he had any support system at the beginning of the game | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kira-fluff · 4 years ago

Note

Heeey!

Saeyoung, Yoosung, Jumin and Zen reacting to to “hotel only one bed” trope ? ♥️

a/n: of course you can lovely! <3 *AHEM* Lemme just say this trope is ELITE and I will NEVER not love it // also, i’m writing it like it’s before they’re dating (OF COURSE) because I want it to be spicy (actually that’s the only thing that would make sense for this prompt but you get my point whatever). ALSO also I’m basing the fancy hotel off my stay at the Ritz Carlton (it was like $25,000 a night) because my grandma couldn’t manage money N E WAYSS. Also, if y’all could let me know whether you prefer Y/N to MC pls lmk k thx

TW: drunk old lady w/no filter, gets pretty suggestive because I couldn’t help myself, an overbearing aunt, savage Italians, and loud hotel neighbor

Note: omfg i accidentally made this so long oh well here’s yo present lmao

“There’s only one bed” PT.1 PT.2

Saeyoung

Getaway missions are mad cool until you can’t sleep

When you finally neared the parking entrance to your hotel you were SO looking forward to taking a nice hot shower before shimming into the covers of your crisp, (clean, you hoped) sheets.

It was past 3AM when Saeyoung finally drove his elegant vehicular device (because what other word is there for it) into a secured parking space

“Because I don’t trust those shady valets, y/n.”

“Whatever you say, Seven”, you replied groggily.

You hauled ass up to the front desk, then to the elevator of the exquisite hotel you were staying at

not that you cared

because S L E E P

but Saeyoung likes to quote Jurassic Park (because of course he does) like “I spare no expense, y/n”

“I’m too tired to laugh”

*gASP*

“Not everyone naturally stays up until the early morning light before going to sleep.”

“It really should become a thing, it’s honestly very iconic of me.” (it’s not)

By the time your conversation ended you were glad to see your hotel number and a little key card slot.

Saeyoung made a show of sticking the key card in like a spy or something

it was funny for normal y/n but not for tired y/n

“Here’s your room, M’lady.”

He held the door open to your room as you looked around the room

a large, lush bed set before a ginormous flat screen TV with complimentary expensive chocolates laid before you as well as complimentary take-home elegant towels and slippers.

suddenly, you heard a knock on the door

blinking in confusion, you opened to see it was Saeyoung

“Um.. hey! What’s up?”

Saeyoung looked a bit bewildered himself before saying,

“Hey, so, I realized my key card was the same room number as yours and I was like ‘That’s weird!’ so I called the front desk who verified that I had placed a reservation for one room, not two, so I hacked into their system to see what went wrong and if I could change it but it looks like they’re completely booked and I think I had made the reservation before I knew that you had to come along and I’m so sorry”

he was breathless after the mouthful he just gave you

As it was 3AM a drunk, old woman was tripping her way to her room and shouted much louder than she should at 3AM, “Kiss her already n’ fuck, ya youngin’s!”

Saeyoung’s hair now matched his face :)

His ears were tipped bright red before coughing awkwardly

“I can sleep on the ground. I’ve done it plenty of times, it’s actually pretty comfy.”

“Um, Sev’ I’m not going to make you just sleep on the floor. If you want--”

“You’re not making me, y/n, I want to do this”

“Actually I think I’ll sleep on the floor, I sleep a lot better on the ground”, you fibbed.

“You’re sleeping on that big ass bed.”

“No you are.”

“If you don’t listen I’ll sleep in the bath tub instead of the floor.”

“Then I’LL sleep outside the room!”

“LIKE HELL YOU WILL!”

“WATCH ME”

the phone rang, a worker politely asking you to quiet a bit down because even with your luxurious privacy walls, guests could still hear you arguing.

Saeyoung began whisper shouting, “Guess that settles it.”

he plopped on the ground, fake snoring with his arm as a pillow

you sighed

“Fine, if neither of us are going to agree to this then we are both going to sleep in this bed.”

Saeyoung blushed lightly at your boldness, a tad worried you’d find him creepy or weird

You started again, beginning to undress a little, causing Seven to yelp in panic and turn around immediately, shielding his eyes,

Now in your tank top and your leggings you’d been wearing under sweatpants and a t-shirt, you said, “I’m gonna go take a quick shower and go to bed. I’m so tired.”

Seven turned around only when he’d heard the bathroom door shut

he sighed, What am I going to do with this girl.

By the time you’d come out of the bathroom, drying your wet hair, Seven was lying on the bed, clad in casual t-shirt and jeans.

“Come on, Saeyoung, you have comfy clothes! It’s okay, change! I’m done in the bathroom now.”

“Nah, this is fine.” This was not fine. Saeyoung was out of his area of expertise of expecting the unexpected because God you were so unpredictable.

“Please” you jutted out your bottom lip in a little pout, being sure to make eye contact with him

Something glowered in his eyes for a split second before he half-smiled saying, “Ah, little Y/n, you know I can’t say no to you when you go all sad on me.”

He stepped into the bathroom to change, but let’s be honest. He was freaking the fuck out.

he covered his flushed face, changing into his soft sweatpants and a cozy sweatshirt. he was scared

the more comfortable he became the more likely he’d accidentally get closer to you and then you’d freak out because you’d hear the sound of his heart beat like it’s a fucking rave concert and then you’d be weirded forever and quite possibly never talk to him again

but on the outside, he stepped out of the bathroom, whipping his phone out with a huge smirk saying, “Smile”

you threw up a peace sign with your tongue sticking out

he laughed before sending it to the RFA chat

707: Sleepover lolol [see attachment]

immediately both your phones blew up with buzzes of notifications from the chat

you laughed lightly, brushing a stray hair from your face to tuck it behind your ear

this was gonna be a long night for Seven.

Zen: UGH get away from her!!!!!!!!!111!!1!!

Jumin: Maybe you should learn to type first.

Zen: shut it cat freak

Zen: seven answer

Zen: hey

Zen: y/n, text “qwerty” if you’re in any kind of danger

Jumin: What a strange code.

You: qwerty :(

707: lololololol

Zen: !!!!!

Zen: ASJDHKJFASHFKJA

Jumin: -_-

Zen: WE NEED A CAR, NO A HELICOPTER im omw!!

You: just kidding <3 i’m fine you guys

707: lololol

Jumin: Have a bit more faith in your subordinates, Zen.

You closed the chat and muted your phone, expecting the incoming argument that was quickly to ensue.

You patted the bed lightly, ushering Saeyoung to lie down next to you.

He obliged, though he politely laid at the far edge of the left side of the bed.

You yawned before shutting the light off and whispering a “good night”.

Saeyoung glanced at the clock. 4AM. Only 15 minutes had passed. You were breathing softly in your sleep within the 10 minutes after you’d said goodnight and here he was still awake.

You suddenly tousled in your sleep, and Saeyoung raised his head, whispering a soft, “Did I wake you up?”

You replied with a soft moan before abruptly turning left onto his corner of the bed and grabbing for the first thing you’d felt -- his torso.

Saeyoung’s breath hitched as he felt you exploring the new found “object”, running your fingers up and down his torso and nearing dangerous areas below

Saeyoung whisper-shouted, “What are you doing?”

He leaned closer to hear your reply, but your only answer was more soft little snores

Saeyoung sighed, trying to lightly grab your wrists without waking you up, and directing toward yourself

no matter how hard he’d try, your arms kept finding his own

your nails would softly ghost over his chest or neck, causing him to shiver and blush profusely

again, he sighed, trying his hardest not to give into your sleepy state

until you broke him with a soft utterance, “Sae....young..”

Saeyoung’s eyes widened to the size of saucers before he dared to look down at you, your hair curling on the bed every which-way.. your mouth slightly agap...

he groaned, his brows furrowed and his eyes shut

at last he slunk his arms around your torso, being sure to respectfully keep them high around your waist

he buried his face in the crook of your neck to subconsciously try to hide his ever growing blush (and erection)

I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this ‘friend’ thing when you’re driving me this crazy, y/n.

You awoke to a sleeping Saeyoung, his toned arms enveloping your small body in a hug

shamelessly, you laid still for a few moments longer.

Yoosung

this bean is lonely uwu

so when he’d invited to you go with him on a trip his uncle had paid for, you felt bad saying “yes” because it’s a paid trip!!

until he begged you because his cousin Chaewon would be there and he was always really pushy and borderline a huge fuck boi

so you conceded

but hey free trip for the both of you minus shitty family gatherings with no one you know, right?!

you hope there’s at least one dog. and alcohol.

dog + alcohol at a party = an actual fun fucking time

you were glad Yoosung was there with you because he honestly couldn’t agree with you more

You opened your beach-side resort room to find there’s only one bed.

Yoosung blanched and quickly dialed his auntie, who’d made the resort reservations

“Ah...hi auntie! Um, how come there isn’t a separate room for me and y/n?”

his aunt cackled into the phone, “Aren’t you an old fashioned little gentlemen!!! Awe~~~ you’ve grown up to be such a good boy! <3 Well don’t worry, I won’t say a word to my sister or your pops. Enjoy the time you have with your adorable girlfriend and get it on a little!! I’ve got condoms if ya need ‘em honey~~ Remember dearie, when the shlong is not covered, the child support better be.”

Yoosung hurriedly hung up the phone, his face completely red, praying you hadn’t heard the conversation that’d just ensued.

You did

but you smile and say, “So.. what’d they say?”

He cleared his throat before saying, “Well, --err.. Basically there’s been a little mishap. B-but don’t worry!! I can just ask Chaewon if I can spend the night in his room.”

“Didn’t you say he leaves a sock on the door handle every time--”

“YES but I want you to be comfortable, okay! It’s really not a big deal.”

You shyly smiled while looking down before softly saying, “You can sleep with me.”

Yoosung’s eyes widened and you quickly looked up, your face flushing to a deep crimson

“I-I-I meant in the bed!!! With me. We can lie together. In the bed---- I mean we--”

Yoosung could practically see the steam coming out of your ears and the room felt a LOT hotter

“S-sure! Sounds great.” he had a feeling if you didn’t agree you’d end up embarrassing yourself further.. and he didn’t want you to feel bad. And he didn’t want those thoughts circulating his mind again.

“Alright, so I’m going to hop in the shower, y/n... unless you want to go first?”

Gulping down some complimentary water you’d found in the hotel mini fridge, you quickly replied with a shake of your head.

Nodding, Yoosung make quick work of washing his hair and trying to give himself a pep talk before he would be sleeping next to you.

Thankful for the big size of the resort bed, you climbed under the covers, already beginning to feel sleep take you

When Yoosung had at last dried himself off and walked out to the bed area of the resort room, he gazed at how small you looked, hugging a soft pillow in your arms, your eyes fluttered shut

He looked away, feeling like a creep.

He shut off the light after making a call to the resort staff to wake him up at 8AM as directed by his uncle’s itinerary

He slid under the covers, shoving a pillow in between the two of you as a little border to separate the two of you

it wasn’t until further in the night when Yoosung had felt a jolt and he looked up in panic, through the blackness recognizing the pillow-border had been cast onto the ground

and even more noticeably, your leg was swung over his hip, your body flush to his own

your arms were snaked around his neck

he felt like he could feel every inch of you

your soft breath just below his ear

your soft .. er.. chest... against his torso

your stomach and .. the rest of it... against his own

Yoosung could not breathe

like someone actually help this man for he is losing oxygen by the minute

He squeezed his eyes shut and make the executive decision to wait it out til morning

he was terrified that if he’d move you, you’d wake up and see just how much you affect him.

And so, when the phone rang that morning, you’d startled, looking up to see your tangled limbs lying on top of his own

“oH MY GOD I’M SO SORRY YOOSUNG UGH IT’S A HABIT OF MINE AHAHHSAHDAJSHS”

he looked at you with eyes that had noticeable circles under them (darker than even after his LOLOL gaming)

“you look like you didn’t sleep much.... --- Is it because of me!? Oh my god I’m so sorry you should’ve just shoved me off or something seriously I didn’t mean to do it on purpose, honest!!”

“N-no, no it’s really not!! I promise!!” He tried his best to grin, though it probably looked like a grimace, because the next thing you said was, “I’ll make it up to you”

“You don’t need to do that. Really, I liked it.”

It took a moment for him to realize what he just said.

“I-I mean I like you! I mean I liked sleeping with you!!! I mean--!!”

Yoosung was quickly spinning circles in his mind

you couldn’t help the little giggle that came out of your mouth, “I guess we’re pretty similar, huh?”

Yoosung smiled lightly, “Yeah, guess so.”

You walked out together toward the breakfast area of the resort

“Hey”, you started, “Is.. Did you mean what you said? About liking me?”

Yoosung glanced away, taking a deep breath before saying, “Yeah, yeah I did. I really like you.”

You couldn’t hold back the big ol’ smile that took over your face as you proudly declared, “Me too!!”

Right when Yoosung was going to go in for a kiss, he saw his auntie suddenly right next to the both of you

“Oh my GOD when did you get here?!”

She smirked, “My question first, dearie, what did you two like?”

Neither of you answered, your cheeks growing red

“You know, the first time your uncle did it with me I felt the same way. Like, what a man! Must run in the fam--”

“OKAY! THANK YOU FOR THAT AUNTIE BUT BREAKFAST IS CALLING MY NAME MM SMELLS GOOD SEE YOU LATER.”

Your blush didn’t leave you as you smeared strawberry cream cheese on your toasted bagel

This trip was going to be very VERY difficult. Thank God there was alcohol. And Yoosung. And probably dogs. And Yoosung.

Yeah.

Gotta love relatives.

Jumin

You received a call from a stern voice you didn’t recognize

<<“Hello. This is Mr. Han’s chauffeur. I’m approximately 6.3 miles away from your residence. Do not worry about clothes or other necessities. All will be provided for you.”>>

“Uh.. thanks? Where....?”

<<“Mr. Han has invited you to join him on his stay at the Ppalgan Vineyard Estates. Have you not received the notification?”>>

You glanced at your phone, seeing two unread messages on your phone.

You read them, feeling bad you hadn’t seen them before.

“Yes, yes of course. Thank you. Tell him I said thank you. Are you sure it’s okay for me to attend?”

<<“Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Han gave me specific instructions to assure you would be able to come with him. I have been ordered to give 2 minute updates following your being picked up. I can assure you, it is his utmost wish that you join him this weekend. I’d be honored to thank him on your behalf, though I feel it would mean much more to him if you said it to him rather than me.” >>

“You’re right, thank you. And thanks for driving me. And for all the other stuff you said”, you replied nervously.

<<”There is no need to thank me, Miss. I am glad to serve Mr. Han in anyway I can.”>>

The call hung up before you could spout out more thank yous

you phone buzzed, startling you.

you clicked the notification

<<(XXX-XXX-XXXX HAN COMPANIES) I’ve arrived at your residence. Let me know if there is anything I can carry for you. Sent 13:52>>

You quickly texted a reply of gratitude before rushing down the stairs out of your apartment, not wanting to make Jumin’s chauffeur wait.

“Good to see you Miss Y/L/N. Is there anything I can get you? I have been given orders to purchase anything you may want or need on our way to the airport.”

He quickly texted something on his phone, presumably a text to Jumin about your safe arrival to his limo.

“A-airport? You mean, like, flying? Are you sure I don’t need my wallet? It’s not too late for me to go grab it, right? I have my debit card on my phone too, otherwise.”

“Miss Y/L/N you are not to spent a single won on this vacation. All is paid for.”

“But my clothes... I don’t want Jumin to have to pay for all new things!!”

"I assure you, money is not something Mr. Han wishes for you to be concerned with.”

You’d stayed silent at that, feeling bad that you’d already bothered the poor man who’d just been ordered to drive you, not reassure you of Jumin’s financial affairs.

You grew quiet, looking out the window as trees, streets, and cars zoomed past you.

“If you so wish, there are numerous meals options in the compartments below the seats as well as alcohol, carbonated beverages and iced water glasses. You are, of course, welcome to any of these. Please do not hesitate to notify me if there is something you’d like instead. We’d glad to make it a regular option in all of our limousines.”

You flushed, embarrassed at the amount of power Jumin’s words, and effectively, your own seemed to have on the entire Han Conglomerate as a whole. You laughed a little, it was funny thinking to yourself that you had so much power as to decide snack options for Jumin’s cars.

Jumin was extra like that, he always went above and beyond to make you comfortable. You loved that about him. It made you feel a little spoiled, so you instinctively rejected most offers at things that seemed to further complicate his worker’s duties.

You had no idea that when the chauffeur had said airport he meant the Han Private Airway Transportation Zone.

As in... private jet.

It was hard not to feel like you were in a whole different world.

Not that Jumin treated you that way... but it was hard not to notice!

You bowed in thanks to the driver before hastily finding your way to the nearest man standing in another black suit, his hands folded together in front of him.

As soon as you uttered your name, his whole demeanor changed and he instantly had gone from cool and collected to humble and overwhelmingly kind.

He’d quickly made his way to the boarding area, escorting you to the jet before leaving you at a polite distance way from Jumin who’d been looking at you from the moment you’d entered the aircraft.

His eyes searched your own as you’d yet to discover his presence

He couldn’t help but rake his eyes up and down your body, admiring the way you could look just in anything.

He at last saw you searching the spacious cabin, at last laying eyes on him.

His heart pounded faster, as if your noticing him made his heart leap in joy

You looked relieved and smiled, running over to him and sitting down next to him

“Hi Jumin!! Oh, should I be calling you Mr. Han? That’s what your chauffeur called you.. sorry if that’s what I should’ve been addressing you as!!”

His deep voice rumbled in your ear, causing you to shudder, “Jumin is fine.”

You gazed up at him through your lashes, noticing the way his perfectly tailored vest made him look so... well... for lack of better word...hot.

“Wow. You look...” Your eyes moved from his hair, to his face, to his neck, to his torso, slowly to his groin, to his legs... before you realized what you’d been doing and quickly your eyes shot up again.

You bit your lip, “You look nice.”

“Nice?”

You laughed shyly, and slightly (embarrassingly) breathless, “Yeah. Yeah you do. Nice.”

Jumin couldn’t help the sly smile he’d been holding back before replying, “You look beautiful.”

You flushed and looked down, squirming in your seat a little before looking at him once more, offering a small, “..thank you..”

After a few minutes of silence, you’d decided to change the subject, chattering on about how you wondered what this mysterious vacation would hold

Jumin couldn’t help is concentration half on every word you were saying, but also your lips. Slowly licking his own, he nodded along when you’d gotten especially enthusiastic, grinning slightly when you’d gotten so excited you’d leapt out of your luxury seat.

Within a half hour of the trip to your destination in Italy, Jumin had trouble concentrating on much else.

Get it together, Jumin, you’re not some fool like Zen.

It’d gotten worse the more you’d leaned further in your seat, your chest becoming slightly exposed

he covered his mouth with a hand, opting for looking out one of the many windows of the jet.

You’d always caught his attention and made him lose his focus -- something he’d never lost before he met you

He blamed the strawberry sent that you’d always carried with you

He wasn’t much for expensive, faux perfume that so many of his father’s skanks would wear... it was like no other.

After a few hours of grueling torture on your part (though you hadn’t know every single time you’d grabbed his hand or arm it’d sent his heart on a sky dive) Jumin was glad to have arrived in the gorgeous Italian acreage of the countryside.

It was even more beautiful at the dusk of night, you’d decided

Immediately a shiny vehicle pulled up, ready to transport you and Jumin to the estate you were to be residing in for the weekend.

Upon pulling into the culdesac, you almost scoffed at the word “estate” -- it was more of a country in and of itself, land stretched beyond what you could see

The mansion itself stood on pillars and high, Gothic windows.

Inside, flying buttresses decorated the building, giving it an elegant and aged ambiance that you just adored

“It’s so beautiful.”

He smiled at you then, watching you take in the wonders he’d realized he took for granted.

He was then directed to a double-door entrance way, “Your room, Mr. Han, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Separate, correct?”

The man stood in surprise, looking slightly aghast, “T-they never specified such details.”

“Contact them immediately to confirm. I’ll work it out from there.”

“Yes, Mr. Han.” From there, the man scurried away to contact the head of the estate.

After a few moments, he returned, “The Rossi Conglomerate had assumed that you’d brought your fiance with you.”

“Did you mention I don’t have one?”

“Y-yes, of course! But, Mr. Han, your father--”

Jumin sighed, “I’ll take care of it.” with a wave of his hand, the man was gone

You thanked him on his way out.

Jumin looked at you, searching for a reaction of displeasure or worry

When he didn’t find one, he began, “I was notified the Rossi had booked their other estates to their American investors. My being here is a formality, but it is business. It would be a great discourtesy to demand--”

You smiled reassuringly, “Jumin, don’t worry about it.. we’ll share the bed, okay?” You held your hand in his own, rubbing soothing circles on his knuckles.

Jumin looked at you, choking on his spit slightly.

“Y/N you do understand that--”

“It’s fine, Jumin!! It’s late already, I’ll just put up my hair.. and.. do you know where the night clothes would be?”

He watched as you fixed a bobby pin between your teeth before running your fingers through your hair, watching as you arched your back to--

“Jumin? ...you don’t know?”

He cleared his throat, looking away, pink dusting his cheeks

“Bathroom.”

You thanked him, unaware of his watchful eyes

It had been a few seconds since you’d entered the bathroom before he heard a loud and alarmed, “..UM....JUMIN...?!”

He’d quickly made his way into the bathroom

“What’s wro--”

He looked and laying on the long granite island of the large bathroom was a silky set of lingerie as well as a note in Italian you couldn’t read.

Jumin’s words stopped dead on his lips as he stared at you, then the silky underwear set, you, silky underwear, you.......silky underwear.

On the outside, Jumin liked to think he came off as calm and collected, saying, “I can get you something else to wear.”

But when he’d made it two steps out of the bathroom he had a little collision. And by collision, I mean his face.. and the wall.

He looked in every drawer, finding nothing. He presumed clothes would be delivered as specified. But it was late already.. their servants are dismissed, only the protective guards surrounded the inside and outside of the estate.. explaining the situation to them didn’t seem very promising.

Of course you were kicking yourself, before you’d found their little....gift... you’d cast your days clothes into the washer. They were probably soaked by now.

Maybe I could use a hair dryer...? Or I could stuff them in the dryer??

Either way you’d be without clothes for.. too long.

And nothing would be greater punishment then showing all that in front of the man you had completely fallen for...

You heard a knock on the bathroom door. You listened from inside.

“Hey, I, uh, couldn’t find anything. Do you think you could wear your clothes from today?”

You whimpered, on the verge of tears, “I already put it in the washer!”

He knocked again, “Can I hand you something?”, he asked, undoing the buttons of his formal shirt.

“C-close your eyes!”

Jumin chuckled darkly before covering his eyes and handing her his collared shirt

“I’d give you the pants, too, but I don’t think they’d really fit you. Could you look at what they’d provided for me? Maybe slip on something from mine.”

“N-no! That’d be even worse for me!! .. and you!” You blushed again imagining him half naked

You hurriedly shuffled through the drawers, but to no avail.

You gulped, slipping on the lingerie to ensure that maybe something would be covered before buttoning Jumin’s formal shirt on you as well.

it was so big it didn’t leave much for the imagination

but you decided through a 10 minute pep talk that you’d suck it up and try your best to make his shirt into a night gown.

You at last stepped out of the bathroom, Jumin’s head shooting toward the sudden noise before taking you in

He could scarcely breathe, much less come up with a coherent sentence

you were in his shirt...

with barely any clothes on underneath

and you looked up at him shyly, biting your lip a little

drawing even more attention to your lips

Jumin had to stifle a groan, opting to head to the bathroom to change

After splashing some cold water on his face in a poor attempt to get his head out of the gutter, he quickly got on his pjs

after you both were ready for bed, Jumin sat on the bed, opening a small novel he’d been enjoying, Anthem.

His attention was immediately diverted from the dystopian fiction when he saw you were stretching

His shirt rode up high as he took in the way the lingerie perfect accentuated your curves, though it didn’t cover much below the waist

Noticing your folly, your eyes widened in shock before you immediately put your hands down

which, just your luck, made it all worse.

the sudden movement disheveled the shirt, causing it to ride down completely on one side, openly displaying the soft brassiere beneath it

Jumin slammed his book so hard it left an echo in the large room.

Great. He couldn’t even make it look like his book was suddenly unbelievably interesting that he just so happened to not take notice of the obvious sight before him.

You blanched, feeling a breeze along your shoulder, gasping before running to your side of the bed and pretending you don’t exist anymore

Meanwhile Jumin is in a c r i s i s

In the most eloquent of words, his mind said holy fucking motherfucking shit oh my God fuck fuck fuck AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH oh my god shit shit shit fuck shit sdfasodjgiajsidogjosdg MALFUNCTION!! WARNING!!!! RUN BITCH!!!

But Jumin didn’t run

because mama ain’t raise no bitch

but also because if he stood up it would be blatantly obvious that he had--

Stop thinking about it, Jumin.

He tried to redirect his mind to his 5 senses, a grounding technique he’d learned when he got too anxious when he was younger

But sight seemed to dominate it as his mind replayed your facial expressions, the way your hands awkwardly tried to cover yourself up, the way you looked the way he’d take it all off---

Oh God. I’m deep in shit.

He had never been so pissed at himself... and embarrassed.

He looked over at you, a horrible decision, really.

You were still awake, your face was redder than the strawberry sent that adorned you

“s-sorry..” you whispered, willing yourself to try to forget, “pretend that never happened..”

Jumin was practically feral and you were saying it never happened?

Jumin couldn’t just pretend he didn’t just see a fucking goddess

but he would for you

“..........pretend what never happened?”

You sighed, a small smile on your face as you quickly turned to thank him

but he was a LOT closer than you imagined

he was propped up on one elbow, looking down at you, his head slightly angled.

And suddenly your faces weren’t so far apart.

And you couldn’t help but slowly close your eyes

Jumin felt confusion when you’d done this

he can be a bit of a pea brain, so he of course said, “I’m sure you’re very tired.”

He shut off the light, reaching over you

You held back the big frown you’d gotten when you realized he’d rejected you

unbeknownst to you that it took everything in him, from the moment he’d saw you in the jet cabin, not to scoop you up in his arms and make out with you the whole way there.

Zen

Was Zen going to invite you to his own fucking tour?

Of course he was

he liked flexing his connections

and most of all, showing you just how much he cared about you

and loved you

but not the love part because God if you ever found out Zen might jump into the nearest body of water and never return

not that he didn’t have any confidence

he has lots of it

but it all kind of disintegrates when he gets to talking about his real feelings

But come on, it was blatantly obvious to anyone who had heckin eyes

or ears

or just any functioning body

the way he’d try to subtly throw an arm over your shoulder

or he’d lean in whenever you spoke

or the way he’d readjust his posture when you walked into a room

or the way everyone caught him staring

like anytime you weren’t looking

or when you are looking because he is “built different”

So the limo ride to the fancy hotel he was to stay at was something that had him looking forward to the tour, but also dreading it

you’d sat close to him in the limo because his agent and other workers were sitting along with him.

So close that your ass got pushed further and further onto his lap

because damn where the fuck are we and why are there so many goddamn potholes

Zen tried to steady you by firmly grabbing your hips

which was NOT the move

because now that you were firmly set on his lap, every bump felt like a fucking war against his hormones.

Like a gentleman, he quickly opted to seat you next to him, not wanting you to feel embarrassed

still, he could feel you being pulled closer to him with every long turn the limo made or every bump or abrupt stop

and it was torture.

like this man is sweating

but by some miracle you arrive at the hotel in one piece! Yay!

but Zen’s soul has left his body~~

so you get set up

You open the room, “Look, Zen! This bed is HUGE!!”, you ran over to it and plopped your face onto the sheets

He chuckled, watching you act like a little kid excited about a hotel for the first time

his brows furrowed when he realized there was no door separator between your rooms

He immediately called the front desk

all you could over hear was “No, there seems to be some kind of mistake”

and “I reserved two rooms -- conjoined”

“Alright, ok. Thanks.” and then he hung up.

“So..” he sighed, “They can’t get another room because they’re completely booked. Someone must’ve recognized the limo and lots of fans immediately bought up all the rooms in hopes of seeing me.”

“It’s alright Zen! I can ask to switch with your agent or something!!”

“NO!” Zen said a little too loudly. “No. Um, look it would be bad because he’s a man.”

“Your a dude, too, Zen.”

“I-- yeah, but that’s different because I’m a guy you can trust.”

“True..”

“So I’ll sleep on the couch, ‘kay?”

“Zen, no! You need your beauty sleep to be ready for your performance tomorrow!!!”

“It’s alright, really!”

“I’ll sleep on the couch!”

“Like hell you will.”

“Please :(”

“Y/N, seriously--”

“Then how about this! You and I just sleep in the same bed!”

Ever the dramatic soul, Zen gasped with his palm over his heart “How SCANDALOUS!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be Mr. Playboy?”

“Only for you, baby”, he winked.

You stuttered, “T-that’s not funny! Seriously don’t make it weird you horn- dog!”

He threw his head back in laughter, “Horn-dog?! I thought you said you trusted me!”

“Not when you’re obviously thinking about doing this and that to me!!”

“Doing this and tha---Hey! Who do you think I am?!”

There was suddenly a loud bang on the wall and a burly man shouted, “GO TO FUCKIN’ SLEEP YOU OBNOXIOUS, SEXUALLY FRUSTRATED LITTLE SHITS!”

You smirked, holding in a laugh saying, “Sounds like your fans are getting jealous.”

Zen’s mouth dropped and you began laughing hysterically

“T-that was like a 60 year old man!”

“I’M 42 YOU LITTLE SHIT”

You fell back on the bed, laughing louder

Zen shouted back, “WELL EXCUSE ME, SEXY, 42 YEAR OLD MAN”

There was silence before a harsh knock sounded at your door

All Zen’s bravado disintegrated and he made a dash for the bed, whispering loudly for you to “Turn off the fuckin’ lights, turn off the fuckin’ lights!”

You stifled more giggles rising up to your throat as you clicked off the light, making sure the room was locked, and climbed into bed

you breathed out your last laughs, sighing to yourself contentedly before noticing the close proximity you were to Zen

You stared at each other for a long moment

You leaned in closer

Zen placed a palm on your cheek, gently cupping it

he softly whispered, “Can I kiss you?”

You answered by harshly connecting your lips

The two of you feeding off each other’s oxygen as Zen bit your lip, causing you to gasp and open your mouth to make way for his tongue

you whimpered, feeling faint from lack of oxygen

the two of you parted, out of breath

Zen wanted to say something smooth like “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

but instead he said “I’ve always wanted to do you.”

He mentally smacked his head, blaming the lack of oxygen for his stupidity

But you smirked up at him coyly, replying, “Then why don’t you?”

Um yeah rip your hotel neighbor he will literally hate both of you so much

I had honestly SO MUCH FUN writing this!! Let me know if you want, like, a part two to this. I think I’d just be so fun lol

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wallflowerimagines · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! Um... I don’t really know how to start this but say I love your hc! I think you do a fantastic job on them, there all very sweet but being the s.o.b I am I’m here to ask for some angst. How would you think the lords act if their S/O died?

...I'm feeling mean. 😈

Warnings: Angst, Death, Horror Game villains making bad decisions/not coping with tragedy, suicide.

Alcina Dimitrescu

Denial, Denial, Denial

You can't be dead. There has to be something, anything that she can do to save you. Alcina scrambles for a solution, attacking the problem from all sides, despite the reality of the situation staring her in the face.

Immediately injects your body with Cadou in a desperate hope to save you. Any possible chance that he has to save you she's going to take it.

It's not likely that your corpse reanimates, but it does mutate. At the end of the process, what's left of your body hardly even looks like you anymore, and she can't bring herself to look at it.

She builds a gilded crypt for your body-- it's stunning. It's inspired by you, all your favorite colors, styles and hobbies are incorporate to make the room feel full of your spirit. Alcina is an artistic woman, and she throws herself into the project like she's possessed.

It might take years, even decades to complete. It has to be perfect. When it's done she feels accomplished, but twice as empty. It might be one of the most beautiful dedications she's ever made, but it can't replace you. She has the room sealed off with no way to get to it, so she can't be tempted to visit. She just needs a piece of of you still in her home, or she can't get through the day.

...If your corpse does reanimate, it's actually worse for Alcina. Whatever she brought back was a shambling, horrifying mess of mold wearing your face. It couldn't think for itself, or even follow commands--it just wanders in circles and attacks anything that gets too close.

She keeps your reanimated corpse in a cell, unable to bring herself to destroy it completely. Sometimes, she'll go down to the basement and talk to the thing like it is you, telling it about her day, having one-sided conversations and thinking of all the wonderful memories the two of you shared.

When its dead eyes meet hers, her lungs seize in her chest and tears gather in her eyes. Alcina doesn't cry often, but when your corpse meets her gaze she starts to sob. Those eyes used to look at her with life and love and now...

Still, she can't stop herself from visiting it. It's a compulsion she can't stop, and it tears open the wound every time, but some irrational part of her deep, deep down thinks that one day, she'll descend those steps and you'll be there to greet her with a warm smile.

In either scenario, she will never have another partner. You're impossible to replace, and she feels truly, genuinely empty without you. Rest well, Darling. You'll never be forgotten.

Donna Beneviento

There is such a thing as a last straw, and this is it for Donna.

Please remember: this is a woman who has lost everything. Mother Miranda might have given her a new "family", but Donna is not nearly as attached to these new members as she is to her original family. And the loss of her original family has shaped her in such a way that if you died? She would be absolutely devastated.

It's not fair to put this kind of pressure on you, but in a very real way you were her last hope for normalcy. She had all these plans to fix her family with you. You were so instrumental to her hopes for the future that now that you're gone, it feels like she has no hope at all. You were her missing link, her one true love, and now that you're dead...

Donna screams until her throat is raw when she finds out you're gone. Angie can't help her, nothing can. She just can't cope with reality anymore.

She'll build a life sized Doll of you to try to help herself cope, but the minute she tries to implant of piece of her Cadou in it, she is filled with such a vehement hatred of the thing that she starts scream-crying before she takes an axe to it's face and hacks it to pieces. How dare it pretend to be you?!! It's not even close to the real thing, she shouldn't even have tried--

She might try to induce a hallucination of you to help her get through the day to day, but it's not the same. She can't perfectly mimic your laugh, or your smile, or the way you tuck her hair away from her face. It's so obviously not you, and Donna is... alone.

I do hate to say it, but she will absolutely try to kill herself if you died. You were the one person who understood her, empathized with her, and you were her best friend. You were her support system, the one person who could carry her through the worst times in her life, but you're gone. Donna can't believe that anyone else could be there for her like you were.

Salvatore Moreau

Absolutely, irreparably broken.

When the two of you were in a relationship, you busied yourself not only with smothering Salvatore in all of the love and affection that you could, but you also did a lot to help his self-esteem and mental health.

You made sure he knew that he was loved, that you could never hate him, and even on your death bed you make him promise never to forget how wonderful he is.

Once you're gone, though, Salvatore cracks.

He clings to every bit of you felt behind. All of your jewelry, clothing, pictures and sentimental items are preserved to the best of his ability. Your living space is transformed into a shrine dedicated to you.

It's not healthy, but he also deifies you in his memory. Mother Miranda is no longer the only person that he worships-- the memory of you is now sacred to him. You become something holy and perfect in his mind's eye. It doesn't matter how many flaws you had in reality, your death has turned even your worst flaws into traits to be admired and praised. His perception of you is totally twisted.

Speaking of Mother Miranda, he regresses a lot. His adoration of Mother Miranda was something you were helping him work through, but now he's right back at square one, and even worse off than before.

Moreau can't make a decision on his own anymore--from what to say, to what to do, and sometimes even what to eat. After all, it's his fault that you died, isn't it? You were his partner and he used to be is a doctor. How could he possibly trust himself with anything when he couldn't manage to save the most important thing in his life?

To the rest of his family, he's more pathetic than before. His obsession with his Mother was usually limited to when she was in the room, but now it's constant.

If he ever hears the quote "It's better to have loved and lost, then never loved at all," he gets supremely, violently angry. No. No, that's not true, it's bullshit, how dare you even say that to his face.

If he hadn't loved you, you would be alive. He would be alone, but you would be safe. You would be happy.

Now he's alone, and all you are is dead. He can't ever come back from it.

Karl Heisenberg

Rage. Unending, earth shattering Rage.

Whatever killed you better start to fucking pray, because Karl Heisenberg will not quit until it's suffering.

He doesn't kill who or whatever it was. He let's it sit there, mangled beyond belief, and uses his knowledge of mechanics and biology to keep it alive in constant, unending pain.

It's cathartic for him, but not in a healthy way. The more he hurts it, the better he feels, but at the end of the day, you're still gone, and he's still alone.

He's... lost.

Heisenberg should be angry, fuck he wants to be angry more than anything, but the longer he keeps the thing alive... emotions seem like they're too far away anymore. He wants to scream, he wants to cry, he wants... you.

He keeps something of yours in his pocket at all times, just to run his fingers over it and remember you. Your eyes, your laugh, your smile... It's almost like a stress ball, and these days sticking his hand into his pocket to wrap his fingers around the thing is the only way he can calm down.

Sometimes he turns to ask your opinion on something, or tell you a joke with a big smile on his face because this one is going to make you laugh for sure-- and then he freezes when the reality sets in once again. You're not here.

Remember, Heisenberg has idealized the two of you as this perfect partnership. You were the first person who looked at him and loved everything that you saw. You weren't just his first real relationship, the first person that he implicitly trusted, but you were also his very first real friend.

He wasn't the most friendly person to begin with, but he did get better because of you. He was still spoiled, a little socially awkward, and maybe his dark sense of humor would slip and get a little too much, but he grew as a person.

Now that you're gone, he can't even remember what it's like not being a cruel, empty shell of rage. All he has left is his hatred of Mother Miranda.

After a while, it doesn't matter if he's ready to take her on or not. He's going to face that bitch head on and kill her, or die trying.

If he wins, he's finally free. If he doesn't... that's not so bad either. Karl doesn't really believe in an afterlife, but there's something appealing about joining you wherever you might be.

#angst #death #alcina dimitrescu x reader #donna beneviento x reader #salvatore moreau x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #karl heisenberg #re8 #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resident evil #dead reader #tw: suicide

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ijustwant2write · 4 years ago

Text

His Protector-Fred Weasley x Reader

(GIF credit to @winter-and-zombies)

Masterlist

Prompts Lists

Summary: At the Battle of Hogwarts, Fred is saved by (Y/N), a close friend of the twins. Both have always had feelings for the other, and in true cliche fashion, neither have admitted this. Years after the battle (where things are somewhat back to normal), the twins have remained friends with her, but it’s only at a Weasley family party does (Y/N) finally say something.

Characters: Fred Weasley x Reader, George Weasley x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Mentions of death, PTSD, injuries, blood, lots of fluff

(A/N: This is quite long! And also the first time I’ve written for Harry Potter, blame it on my FYP on Tik Tok)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

There were no dry eyes from anyone gathered in the Great Hall. It was full of students, resting from the battle and treating injuries, or mourning over friends who didn't make it. Some were huddled together as they sobbed, others keeping to themselves as they tried to stop the horrifying images keep playing in their minds.

The Weasley’s were gathered around Fred, who was laid out on a makeshift stretcher, tears streaming down their faces as they waited for some sign of him waking up. He had dried blood on his face and partly in his hair. When he was first carried in, their immediate thoughts had been he was dead, because he seemed so lifeless. They were extremely grateful when they realised he was breathing, and he had a heartbeat.

Molly stroked back her son’s hair, trying to calm herself down as to not alarm her children. Never in her life did she think they would have to go through something like this, especially at such a young age. These were her babies, and she was going to protect them with her life like any mother would. George sat beside Fred opposite his mum, praying that his brother's eyes would soon open. Although it had been confirmed that he would be alright, albeit with a few injuries, seeing him lying there made it feel like he wasn’t with them anymore. Suddenly, Fred began to stir, scrunching up his eyes and moaning as he felt the pain throbbing through his body.

“How you feeling Freddie?” George quickly asked as the family got closer.

Fred mumbled something, but no one could understand.

“What was that Fred?” Molly quietly said.

“(Y/N)...”

“Who? Who are you talking about?” Molly was sure she had heard the name before, perhaps when the boys were still at school.

“(Y/N), where is she?” Fred moaned.

“I don’t know Freddie.” George replied.“I haven’t seen her since you were brought in.”

“Is..is sh-sh-she a-alive?” Fred was still weak, struggling to speak.

“Fred, please, just rest for now.” Molly begged, not wanting to see him in pain any longer.

“Sh-she’s d-dead?”

As the family struggled to keep Fred still and stop him from panicking, Ginny backed away, knowing the only way Fred would settle was if she found (Y/N). When Fred was carried in, (Y/N) had also been brought him right behind him, but they were separated. She was taken off towards her friends, and in the heat of the moment, Ginny hadn’t questioned if she was alright, making her feel awful.

Although (Y/N) had been close to the twins, she hadn’t been as mischievous as them, not wanting multiple detentions or to get in any trouble as much as they did. It was a surprising friendship between them, especially when (Y/N) was so nice to Ginny, despite the age difference; she was always surprised that the boys never invited her round to their home during the holidays. Because she saw how Fred would sneak glances at the girl, always rolling her eyes at how obvious he was being with his feelings, yet neither one did anything about it.

Ginny ignored the calls from her dad when she set off in the hall to find (Y/N), bombarding her peers with questions, desperate to find her as quickly as possible. Luckily amongst everyone, she spotted (Y/N)’s friends huddled on the floor, holding onto the unconscious girl’s hands. Ginny startled them as she rushed over.

“Is she...” Ginny started.

“She’s alive. But she’s weak.” one of her friends sniffled.

“We need to move (Y/N).” Ginny demanded.

“What?”

“She needs to be beside Fred.”

“Why?”

“She just does! Come on, help me move her. Please!”

The girls glanced between each other, and they knew Ginny wouldn’t be requesting such a thing for no reason. They struggled to navigate her body on the stretcher through the people, Ginny going ahead and commanding that they move out of the way. All eyes were on (Y/N), wondering why they were moving her. Ginny gently ushered George and her father out of the way, the men helping lay (Y/N) down on the floor. Fred also watched, slowly turning his head to look at her, expecting to see her beautiful eyes staring back. But when he saw they were shut, he panicked. He shakily reached out for her hand, struggling to find it as they were crossed over on her stomach. George took on her hands, placing it in Fred’s, smiling at the size difference.

Molly and Arthur looked at each other, wondering why this girl was so special to Fred and also why they hadn’t been told much about her.

“This is (Y/N). She saved Fred’s life.” Ginny explained to her parents."She's alive Fred."

Fred didn't reply, still staring at her and grasping onto her hand. His mind flashed back to seeing her save him, hearing how angry and upset she was as she shouted out her spell, somehow defending him from his death and saving herself. He had blacked out before he could see if she was safe. Although he heard Ginny, it didn't make him feel any better. He just wanted to see her eyes open. That was it.

"(Y/N)." he tried to raise his voice, but his throat was so hoarse that it came out as a whisper. He tried shaking her hand slightly, and again, he was too weak to even do that.

George held (Y/N)'s other hand, trying to help his brother wake up their friend. He too wanted her to wake up, and not just for his brother's sake. Her eyes fluttered open, then quickly shut again. Instinctively she was going to rub her eyes until she realised her hands were preoccupied.

"What's happening?" she breathed out, looking around at the Weasley family.

"You're safe dear." Molly reassured her.

"You're alive." Fred smiled, relief flooding through him.

(Y/N) only realised it was Fred talking beside her, breathlessly laughing as her head lulled to the side. There he was, alive just as she was.

"Fred? Oh my...Y-you're here."

"All thanks to you." George smiled, squeezing her hand.

"I'm so..." she gulped before continuing."I'm so happy you're both safe."

"Please don't do that again." Fred begged.

"Do what?"

"Put yourself in danger to save me."

"Don't be stupid Freddie. You can thank me later."

"Let me guess...lots and lots of chocolates."

"Exactly."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

(Y/N) yawned as she packed up her things from work, tired after another long week. She passed co-workers, waving goodbye and smiling as she left the building. As she put on her hat, she looked up at the sky, smiling at the sight of snow falling. It was turning dark, and seeing the snowflakes illuminated by the street lights made the street she walked down everyday look beautiful. (Y/N) took her first few steps towards her route home, suddenly stopping for an unknown reason. Something was pulling her in the other direction, she wanted to take a different path today.

Following her instincts, she walked in the opposite direction, hypnotised by the weather around her. Once she reached the end of the street, she looked up at the sign post, and the only part of it not covered in snow was the one that said 'Diagon Alley'. She hadn't been down there for so long, she hadn't seen two certain men for so long.

Why was she headed there? And of all the times to go, why now? She hadn't seen the twins for months, not because she didn't want to, but because she was so busy, as were they. Continuing her walk, she thought back to how often they would spend time together, especially after what happened to Hogwarts. She needed solidarity, she needed to be reminded that Fred was still there, that she didn't dream saving him, it had to be real. (Y/N) would regularly visit them, or vice versa, trying to act like everything was normal and that they weren't effected by anything that had happened.

The shops were closed, she could see the owners locking up, beginning to tidy everything away. Lights were dim, signs now said 'closed' and she was one of the few people left in the street after a busy day of shopping. As (Y/N) approached 'Weasleys Wizard Wheezes', she grew nervous, wondering if this really was a good idea. She hadn't seen them for all this time and now she was suddenly turning up on their shop doorstep? Was it rude? Was she being stupid in thinking that they would be totally fine seeing her after a working day?

Mustering up as much courage as she could, (Y/N) forced herself to the front door, seeing that no last minute customers were left. She tried opening the door, luckily it was open, and let herself in.

"Sorry, we're closed!" a voice shouted out.

"Even for me?" she cheekily called back, giggling when a confused George poked his head around a pile of boxes.

He grinned, practically running towards (Y/N) with his arms open wide."Where have you been little miss?"

"I'm sorry, I know this is a random visit but...I don't know, I just thought of coming to see you and Freddie."

"You're welcome here any time of any day. You know that."

They pulled apart, still smiling."Thanks, I just feel bad that I've not made much effort."

"Hey, we're all busy now. Don't worry about it. I'll go get Fred, he's going to love this!"

George was ecstatic as he dashed off to find his brother. All of them were to blame for not catching up more often than they used to, and he had seen how it effected Fred. They had all been each others support system after the battle, but it was clear that Fred and (Y/N) hugged a little tighter than they used to, looked into each others eyes longer, and smiled as much as possible when together. George had always wanted to set them up (he would have preferred involving pranks somehow) and that old itch was back. These two were hopeless with their feelings for one another, he just had to give them a little push in the right direction...into each others arms.

"Freddie!" George exclaimed, laughing when his brother almost dropped a box out of fright.

"What?" Fred sighed as he recovered, placing the box on the floor. He just wanted to get the stock out for the next morning and go home.

"Come see who has paid us a visit."

George said no more, going back to the shop floor, leaving Fred rolling his eyes as he followed. He rolled up his shirt sleeves as they slid down his arms, not paying much attention to his surroundings. So when he looked up and he saw her, his mouth dropped open, shocked to see (Y/N) standing there.

"Would you just get over here and hug me?" (Y/N) joked, though not as boldly as she used to.

Fred just laughed as he did what she said, reaching down to wrap his long arms around her. She had miss how he held her, how tightly he clung onto her, as if it were their last hug ever. George just stood there, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for them to finish.

"What are you doing here?" Fred asked.

"Just wanted to see you both." (Y/N) simply stated.

"Well I'm glad you did."

"How about we go for some drinks? It is the end of the week after all." George suggested.

(Y/N) nodded."Yeah, I'm up for that."

"Well then, let's get packed up Freddie."

(Y/N) offered to help, but the twins refused. They came in and out of the stock room, being as quick as they could. (Y/N) took the opportunity to walk around, see what items they were selling. There were some new products, but most were older classics. She reminisced over all the times the boys used pranks such as the ones in the shop, and how they could sometimes get a lighter punishment, just because everyone loved them. She took part in a few schemes here and there, but only the harmless ones, the ones that would only land her in detention if they got caught.

She came to a stand that held numerous love potions. She smiled as she remembered making Amortentia in her lessons. That had been an awkward class. No one wanted to be picked on and asked what theirs smelt like, not in front of their peers. (Y/N) knew who's hers smelt like as soon as the lid of the bottle popped off.

"No luck in the love department then?" George smirked as he put on his coat.

"Hm?" (Y/N) hadn't been paying attention, thinking back on old times.

"Still not found 'the one'?"

"Oh, no, I don't have time for any of that."

"Well, hopefully Mr Right just stumbles into your life." George was growing more excited by the second.

"Yeah, hopefully."

"Right, ready to go?" Fred appeared.

"Yes-Oh!" George startled them."Freddie, I just had a great idea."

"Oh here we go." (Y/N) joked.

"(Y/N) should come home with us, to the Burrow, for mum's party!"

"A party? Why is your mum throwing a party?"

"Dad got a little bonus at work, mum thinks it's something to celebrate. And it's an excuse for her to get the whole family back together."

"That is an amazing idea actually." Fred beamed.

"I can't impose on something like that. Especially since it's a family thing."

"Nonsense." the twins said in unison.

"Are you sure? I mean, I haven't seen your family for so long."

"Mum would love it." Fred reassured her.

"OK then!" (Y/N) grinned."I've always loved a Weasley party."

"That's settled then," George opened the door,"we'll discuss the details over those drinks that are waiting for us."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Smoothing down her dress once again, (Y/N) checked her tights for any holes or ladders. She had planned her outfit a week before the party, changing her mind countless times before she finally decided on what she wanted to wear. All morning, her heart had been racing, stomach twisting into knots as nerves got the better of her. Why was she so nervous? She had met the Weasley’s many times, she even stayed the Burrow!

There was a knock at the door, meaning the boys were here to pick her up. Sighing, she checked herself one last time in the mirror before going to answer the door. As she opened it, she noticed it was only Fred standing there, no sign of George.

"Hi, where's George?" she asked as she let Fred inside the flat. She took a note of the smart-casual shirt he was wearing; thank god, she was dressed correctly.

"He's waiting downstairs. Said he can't be arsed to walk up all those stairs. Even though there is a lift..."

"Since when did he become so lazy?" (Y/N) giggled, grabbing her handbag and keys. Turning back around, she saw Fred staring at her.

"(Y/N), you look..." Fred was speechless, which was rare for him. He always had a witty remark, a joke or a flirty comment at the ready, but when he was around (Y/N), those words seemed to get stuck in his throat,"...beautiful."

(Y/N) smiled, ducking her head to hide her blush."Th-thanks Freddie. You look very handsome too."

There were so many more words that he wanted to use to compliment her. He wanted to slap himself for using such a basic word. (Y/N) was gorgeous, she was dazzling, he could believe such a smart, independant and caring woman was in his life. Why did he have to stutter or forget how to speak when he was around her? The real words he wanted to say were on the tip of his tongue, but they would never leave there.

Awkwardly laughing, they left the flat, meeting George outside. George noticed their pink cheeks but didn't mention it, knowing they had embarrassed themselves enough in front of each other.

The journey was full of banter and inside jokes, making it seem like they were students again at Hogwarts. (Y/N)'s nerves about seeing the Weasley’s again had disappeared, but new ones emerged. And they were all because of Fred. (Y/N) wasn't stupid, she had always had feelings for him. But after the battle, she hadn't snatched him up, something held her back, and she just couldn't bring herself to even talk to Fred about it, like any other normal adult would.

The Burrow was just ahead, now the nerves were taken over by excitement. Fred and George reminded (well, warned) (Y/N) how excited their mum was going to be, but she didn't mind. It would be great to receive such an inviting reception. She walked between the twins up to the house, letting them go in first, hesitating slightly as she took in how many people were there; they weren't joking when they said everyone would be there.

"Mum, look who else we brought." Fred struggled to say as he was smothered with kisses across his face.

Molly finally let him go, her smile turning into a shocked expression before letting out a scream, making everyone jump. She didn't waste time bringing (Y/N) into a bone crushing hug. (Y/N) would have laughed if she could breathe, but didn't complain.

"Oh, it's so good to see you dear! It's been too long since you've been back here." Molly held (Y/N)'s cheeks in her hands, looking at how the young girl she knew had turned into a beautiful woman.

“I couldn’t say no when Fred and George invited me.” (Y/N) said through squished lips.

“Alright mum, give her some air.” George gently chuckled.

“Oh, this is so nice.” Molly beamed, glancing between (Y/N) and Fred, who was already looking at her.

It took a good ten minutes for the twins and (Y/N) to greet everyone. She always forgot how many Weasley’s there were, some she had not seen for years. Homemade food was laid out on the table (far more than what was needed), everyone nibbling at anything they fancied as they spoke over drinks. There was a toast held for Arthur, who humbly thanked everyone, bashful over Molly’s speech; and she didn’t leave out mentioning how lovely it was that the family was extending, referring to (Y/N). She had blushed too much recently, avoiding eye contact with Fred as everyone stared at the pair who were stood together.

The day was moving on too quickly, it was becoming dark outside, and she didn’t want the night to end. The family had split into groups, still having much to talk about. (Y/N) decided to refill her drink, parting from the others to head to the kitchen. Just as she found another bottle to open, someone appeared beside her. Craning her neck upwards, she flinched back as Fred held out her coat to her, along with her hat, scarves and gloves.

“We’re not leaving are we?” (Y/N) frowned, not wanting to leave.

“Just popping out.” Fred smiled.

After getting wrapped up, (Y/N) followed Fred outside. Once again, it was lightly snowing, starting to stick to the ground which was already frosty, the sound of grass crunching underneath their shoes. She nonchalantly looped her arm through his, snuggling into him (if he asked, she would blame it on the cold), her heart fluttering when Fred instead wrapped his arm around her shoulders, meaning they could be closer. They didn’t stray too far from the house, Fred casting Lumos to light the way. There was a crumbling stone wall which Fred confidently hopped onto. (Y/N) waited for some part of it to collapse, and when it didn't, she joined him, having to jump higher to reach the top. He laughed, forgetting how much advantage his height have him almost everyday.

"We've never sat here before." (Y/N) commented.

"Honestly, I didn't even know it was here."

"So we were just wandering around?" (Y/N) smiled.

"Yeah." Fred confessed.

“How come you wanted to get out of the house?”

“Uh...I wanted to, well, I thought we could talk.”

“About?” she dragged out the word.

“When I saw you again, after all this time, I realised what an idiot I’ve been.”

“What do you mean?”

“Obviously we’re busy, we’ve both got jobs and it’s always harder to meet up. But I regret that so much. After...what happened at Hogwarts, you were my rock, I always felt normal around you, as if nothing had happened. We were able to carry on with our lives like we had planned. When I didn’t see you, I would lie awake all night with that image of you beside me in the hall. It would never go away.”

“Why have you never told me any of this?”

“I’ve been too scared to reveal anything. I didn’t want to bring anything up, because who would want to be with someone who is still stuck in the past?”

“I would. Fred, you’re not alone in this. I’ve always felt the same. I visited you all those times because my mind would make me think that I never saved you. And if I hadn’t....I don’t know how I would have gone on. Because if I didn’t have you in my life-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, please. We’ve been through so much that we shouldn’t have. But we’re here now, together again.”

Fred held her hand, slowly interlocking their fingers. They both looked down, butterflies erupting in their stomach. The pair glanced at each other, quickly looking away when they realised how close their faces were.

“Why are we acting like kids at school again?” (Y/N) laughed.

“You’re asking the guy who owns and runs a joke shop with his brother, I don’t think I’ve ever stopped being a kid.”

“We did, once.”

“(Y/N), we don’t have to think about that anymore. It’s in the past.”

“Freddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember the last time we were in a situation like this? When you actually had the courage to ask me to the Yule ball?”

“And we went as friends?”

She nodded.“Yep. You know, I was a little disappointed when you added that part.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I was sort of hoping you would ask me out as well. Then when you said that, and I just gave up trying. You never noticed me flirting anyway.”

“I never asked you because I never knew. And you also had guys after you so I didn’t think I had a chance.”

“Are you joking? Fred, no one else was wanting to date me.”

“Now you’re the one who is joking.”

“Well...”

“Well?”

“Let’s not make this more awkward than it already is.”

“Oh it’s awkward now?”

“Fred!” (Y/N) exclaimed but couldn’t help laughing along with him.

“No, no, I’m enjoying this.”

“Fred Weasley, after all this time being idiots and wasting time not being together...”

“What? Did you change your mind-”

(Y/N) didn’t know how to say it, instead closing the already small gap them and kissing him. Fred was shocked by how forward she was, but wasted no time kissing back. Her hands cupped his cheeks as Fred’s hands wound themselves around her waist. This had been long overdue. As they pulled away, breathless from the passionate kiss, Fred started to chuckle.

“What is it?” (Y/N) asked.

“Mum is gonna scream when she finds out about this.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley x reader #weasley twins #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter one shot #harry potter x reader #hogwarts #george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley one shot #george weasley x reader

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dameronology · 4 years ago

Text

never doubt me {cassian andor}

summary: after falling into the hands of the empire, a situation of life and death forces you and cassian to finally talk about your feelings {for @megmeg-chan and i am sO sorry it’s taken me so long to do this}

summary: language, mentions of injury, talks ab death/loss in a canon kinda way

enjoy!! i haven’t written for cassian in so long and i forgot how much i loved him, so expect more of him in the future😌

- jazz

Cassian Andor was a filthy liar.

No, deep breath. He wasn't that bad.

The situation was just really fucking irritating and, in all likelihood, making your anger towards him a little more irrational. It wasn't really even his fault either. He'd told you incessantly that the mission was going to go well, and that you both going to be fine. Like, totally fiiiine, and that you would both get into the base without trouble and reunite in the middle, near the Imperial comms system. It was just that neither of you had planned for or expected stormtroopers to be present -- he'd gotten away in one piece, but you hadn't been so lucky.

That brings us to now: a cell, with two stormtroopers parked outside and quite literally no sign of Cassian anywhere. You knew he'd be looking for you; in fact, you didn't doubt it once. There was a sort of unspoken pact between you that you would always rescue one another; always have each other's backs and never leave the other behind. It was born from the fact that friendships were hard to forge in your line of work, and what you and Cassian had was rare. Not even just in the Rebellion, but rather life in general. On the surface, you teased and ripped into one another to no end. The chemistry was almost suffocating for the people around you, because they could never get a word in edge ways. Then, if you dug a little deeper, there was something more. Something sweeter, something more supportive. You knew him better than he knew himself and in return, he could read you like his favourite novel (though, admittedly, it did sometimes feel like you were missing a few pages. Human complexity and all that).

‘Do you feel like speaking now?’ The modulated voice of one of the stormtroopers came from the other side of your cell door.

‘I’ll die before telling you jackshit.’ You muttered. Hopefully that was more of a statement and less of a prophecy.

The trooper snorted. ‘Okay, sweetheart-’

‘- call me that again and I will shove that blaster sideways up your ass.’ You spat.

‘The only thing you’re doing is rotting here.’

With that, he turned his back to you again.

You slumped further down the wall, ignoring the feeling of the cold concrete etching through the thin fabric of your shirt. It was cold in here. Really, really fucking cold, and Cassian had said you wouldn’t need a jacket. Then again, he’d said a lot of things. And again, none of it was his fault, but you cursed yourself for so blindly listening to him. It was nice that you took everything the other said as gospel, even if it came back to bite you in the ass every so often.

‘A word of advice-’

‘- I don’t want any advice.’ You turned away from the trooper, pulling you knees to your chest.

‘The sooner you talk, the less painful it’ll be.’ He ignored your refusal.

You didn’t need to ask what he meant by it. You’d been part of the Rebellion long enough to have heard stories -- stories of torture, stories of war and the the kind of horrors that people often took to the grave. You had a fair few of your own, and so did Cassian. That was probably why he’d become so important to you. He was one of the only people in the galaxy who truly understood the downfalls of being a Rebel spy. Your cause was more important to you than anything (well, almost anything) and you wouldn’t have changed it for the world, but there were times like this where you wondered if it was all worth it. Would there ever come a day where the Empire truly fell, once and for all? And would you even be around to see it? Would Cassian?

Speaking of the devil, where the fuck was he? He never usually took this long. A few hours at most, but you’d long surpassed that. You could only very barely see the sky through the tiny window, but the sky had faded from powder blue to a dark navy, signalling it had been well over half a day. That was bad for multiple reasons -- the first being that the longer you were here, the more likely Cassian was to assume the worst and stop searching. Secondly, and perhaps most hauntingly, was that each passing second brought you closer to the Imps dragging you out the cell and taking you for questioning. And questioning, in their books, didn’t involve much talking. Go figure.

The injuries you sustained in your capture were bad enough; a bust lip, bruised eye and twisted ankle never made for much comfort. Even less so when you couldn’t get medical attention. The fact you knew it would be the least of your problems in a few hours made it all that much worst.

You’d never doubted Cassian Andor before. Not once. Couldn’t even fathom it, truth be told. He always came through for you; always saved your ass, whether it be from yourself or from Imps. He was your person. That’s the only way you could have put it.

But, above all, he was a human being. Not a super hero, or a miracle worker. He could only do so much and you knew he would. He would follow every lead and every clue to try and get to you, but that’s all he could do. If he couldn’t find you, that wasn’t him on him. You doubted that he would think the same, and when you heard the lock to your cell open, you could only hope and pray that he knew that. That you weren’t going to blame him for what was about to happen, or hold it against him.

‘It’s time.’ The stormtrooper announced. ‘Hope you can handle a bit of pain.’

You took a deep breath. ‘I can handle anything.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it.’ He guffawed. ‘Hands out.’

‘C’mon, man.’ You murmured. ‘My legs gone, my lips bust and my head feels someone’s dropped an iron anvil on it. You don’t need to cuff - ouch!’

You let out a squeak as he grabbed your wrists, tugging them forward and shoving a pair of metal cuffs on them. Was this really it? The end? Was your name gonna be the next one on the list of people lost in the Rebellion? That was if anybody even noticed.

Cassian would. Of course, Cassian would. It hurt your heart to think that you wouldn’t see him again, or get to say a proper goodbye. The last time you’d seen him, you’d been dragged away from him kicking and screaming. He’d been so close, and if he’d been just a little nearer when they’d got you, he might have been able to save you, to stop you from falling into the hands of the Empire. You always figured that if you were gonna die in the field, he’d be by your side. The dumbassery you so often found yourselves in usually happened together.

The walls of the Imperial base were dark - as if you’d expected anything else. It was hardly like the place was going to look like a bright, airy Ikea showroom. The only light came from the thousands of tiny red and blue buttons flickering on the wall, illuminating the hallways in what would have been a pretty glow if the circumstances weren’t so fucking miserable. Talk about a high way to hell.

You took another left, the trooper’s grip on you tightening as you neared some double towards the end. Yep, here it was. This is where you met your maker. And from what you’d heard, the six-foot-something guy in a black mask did not take prisoners. Not that he was the one you were thinking of. No, that was Cassian. Completely and entirely Cassian; just his face and his presence and his everything at the back of your mind, the last thing you could think of before you were about to die for your cause-

-you let out an oof! as the stormtrooper suddenly pulled you to the ground, practically using you as a human shield against the blaster fire and smoke grenade that had just come from behind you. You tried to use your elbows to push him off, but with the cuffs and your already existing injuries, he easily overpowered you. Also, you were too busy coughing from the smoke to even think about making a getaway.

Tumbling forward, you fell onto your hands and knees. The trooper’s gun clattered to the ground, and you used your good leg to kick it further out the way, eyes not moving from the cloud of smoke that come out of the grenade. The red and blue lights were beating down on it, casting a purple glow over the shadow of whoever had thrown it, acting as a guide as they finally emerged. With a blaster in one hand and the other curled into a fist, your best friend had never quite looked so handsome, especially under the violet illuminations.

‘Cassian!’ Despite everything, you couldn’t help but grin.

‘Duck.’ He demanded.

You did as he said, flopping back to the floor. Squeezing your eyes shut and covering your head, you stayed there for a moment. There was another blast, and then the trooper’s body fell beside yours with a dull thud!

Then, in what must have been two of most contrasting feelings ever, a warm pair of hands found yours. Cassian’s, undoubtedly. You would have known them anywhere. He pulled you up from the cold ground, warm palms finding your face as they ghosted over your cheeks.

‘It’s okay.’ His voice was soft. ‘You can open your eyes.’

You took a deep breath. ‘I know. Thank you.’

‘How badly are you hurt?’ He asked. ‘Because we need to move fast.’

‘My foot’s pretty wrangled.’ You said.

Without another word, Cassian threw an arm over your shoulders, tucking it under your arms to support you.

‘Lean against me.’ He instructed. ‘The exit isn’t too far-’

‘- what about the other troopers?’ You asked.

‘I dealt with them on my way in.’

And dealt with them, he certainly had. The men were practically laying in unconscious piles (he only ever intended to maim, but never kill), working as some kind of fucked up map out of a twisted and horrible maze. The pain in your leg only grew worst as you moved, your good leg beginning to ache from carrying all the weight. With all your attention focused ahead of you for potential enemies, you didn’t even notice how close you were to stumbling over -- not until you fell back onto the cold lino floors.

‘Hey.’ Cassian dropped beside you. ‘Look at me, okay, just...look at me.’

You glanced up, tired eyes meeting his warm, brown ones. ‘It really hurts, Cass.’

‘We’re really close now.’ He said. ‘Two more minutes. Can you do that? For me?’

‘Yeah.’ You took a deep breath and nodded. ‘I can.’

(Because really, for him, you’d do anything.)

Cassian helped you back up, pressing one of his blasters into your hand. His arm returned to hold you by the waist, gripping you a little tighter this time. Your leg was practically screaming in pain, a dull ache shooting from your ankle up to your knee. You had to remind yourself that in a few minutes, it would all be over - and not in the way you thought it was going to be over an hour ago. Over, as in this whole ordeal would simply be something to report back to your bosses at base, and not your final moments. The fact you ever let yourself accept that fate and think that Cassian wouldn’t come for you was something else entirely in itself.

You almost cried with relief when you saw his battered old ship docked outside the base. You normally cried for other reasons when you saw it - usually ones to do with the rusty old engines and creaking sound it insisted on making whenever it flew - but right then, you had never been happier to see it. Even if the insides smelt weirdly of petrol and oil, and the seats in the cockpit were made of uncomfortable cracked leather, you practically threw yourself on board.

Neither you nor Cassian said anything for a while. His attention was completely on getting away from the base and avoiding TIE fighters - something he did without ever moving his hand from your thigh - and yours was on steadying your breathing and heartbeat. It had been a rough twelve hours to say the least.

Once the ship had lurched into hyperspace, he turned in his chair to face you. He held your gaze for a moment, before opening his arms out and letting you flop from your own seat and into his chest. They tightly wrapped around you, one hand softly your head to his body and the other gently rubbing up and down your back. You had to squeeze your eyes shut to stop your tears from spilling.

‘I’m sorry.’ He murmured.

‘For what?’ You peered up at him with a frown.

‘Not finding you sooner.’ He replied. ‘Or for even letting you get caught in the first place-’

‘- Cassian, stop.’ You pulled back and tangled his hands in yours. ‘Once I get some bactaspray, I’ll be totally fine.’

‘But you almost weren’t.’ He shot back. ‘If I was just a few minutes later and you could have been a thousand times worst, or even...gone completely.’

‘That’s beside the point.’ You softly sighed. ‘It’s doesn’t matter would have beens or could have beens. I am here and I will be okay.’

‘You’re right.’ He nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I just...I want to protect you, you know? And I failed.’

‘You don’t need to protect me, Cass.’ You shook your head with a soft smile. ‘Actually, no, today I did but you pulled through.’

‘I don’t need to, but I want to.’ Cassian murmured.

He’d done a pretty good job at sitting on his feelings for the last few years. Pushed them down when he felt the urge to tell you, and ignored them entirely when they got really intense. But that had been when the threat of completely losing you was just that: a threat. A distant possibility, and one that you were both too busy living your lives to fully consider. Now, however, you’d come close. Too close. Cassian had come face-to-face with a reality where you were gone, and one where he’d never actually told you how he felt.

‘You know I love you, right?’ He quietly said.

‘Yeah, I know.’ You nodded.

‘No, I mean I love you.’

You peered up at him, realising what he was getting at. You did know. In fact, it had very much been an unspoken thing between you for a very, very long time. It was really just a matter of saying it - but that was always the hardest part, right?

‘I know.’ You repeated. ‘I love you too.’

‘You do?’

You softly laughed. ‘Of course I do.’

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple and pulled you back against his chest, chin resting atop your ahead. ‘Good.’

You stayed like that for a few minutes; it was undoubtedly a deeper conversation you were going to have later on, but it felt good to have it out in the open. So good, in fact, that it momentarily made you forget the last day entirely. Instead of pondering on it, you let yourself get lost entirely in Cassian’s presence, and the feeling of his body against yours and and his arms holding you. If you could have it your way, you would have stayed like this forever. The rest of the galaxy could wait.

‘I’m sorry if you thought I was going to make in time.’ He said quietly.

‘I didn’t.’ Your voice was slightly muffled by his chest. ‘Not once.’

‘I love you.’ Cassian said it more firmly this time. It still completely felt weird to say, and even more so to see you smile and say it back.

‘I love you too.’

He dipped his head down, capturing your mouth in a soft kiss. The feeling of your lips against his was familiar and foreign all at once; it was something he’d gone over in his head a thousand times, but it was nothing like either of you had imagined. It was better. Sweeter, in the kind of way that gave you butterflies in your tummy and made you feel giddy. It was worlds away from the usual dread and bloodshed that came with being in the Rebellion.

But that was quintessentially Cassian. He was everything that the war wasn’t: sweet and constant and warm. Somebody as beautiful and as caring as him both did and didn’t belong in the Rebellion. Did, because he was a good man who wanted to fight for the right thing. Didn’t, because he constantly risked his life for the greater good and you couldn’t quite stomach that idea.

‘I’ll always come back for you.’ He lightly brushed his hand against your cheek. ‘Never doubt me.’

‘I won’t.’ You promised. ‘Not ever.’

tags: @megmeg-chan @karasong @bb8sworld @marvelinsanity @poestardust @etherealsanakin @bo-kryze @punkbach @phoenixhalliwell

#cassian andor x reader #cassian andor imagine #cassian x reader #cassian imagine #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor fanfic #star wars x reader #star wars imagines #star wars fluff #cassian andor fluff #rogue one imagines #star wars angst

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spacexcowgirl · 4 years ago

Text

I’d Lie - G.W.

George Weasley x Reader

Summary: Y/N fell for her best friend, but she can’t let him, or anyone else, know that.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Alcohol usage/intoxication, swearing, mentions of food, LOTS of pining and unrequited love, I don’t think there’s anything else?

A/N: This is a song fic inspired by the wonderful unreleased song “I’d Lie” by Taylor Swift! mmmm this is my first fic without a *happy* ending and boy does that make me sad. But do not worry I quite literally already have a second part planned oops. Pictures are from Pinterest.

message to be added to tags :)

I don’t think that passenger seat

Has ever looked looked this good to me

He tells me about his night

And I count the colors in his eyes

Y/N distracted herself with her fingers, tangling and untangling them and cracking her knuckles. It was all she could do to stop herself from completely ogling the boy sitting beside her on the couch. He was positioned towards her, one leg bent at the knee and resting between them on the couch. His hands moved back and forth wildly as he spoke, recounting some story that had happened during quidditch practice that night.

“Are you even listening?” George cut himself off, his tone light. When Y/N snapped her head up to look at him, she found that he was smiling, but still he looked a bit offended.

“‘course I’m listening.” Y/N reassured quickly, her eyes finally meeting his. That was all it took, and suddenly she was being reeled into those chocolate brown eyes, drowning in their various shades and hues, with no way out.

Y/N wasn’t sure when her feelings for her best friend shifted from friendly to something more. It was as if one day his messy hair transformed from something to giggle and roll her eyes at to something to swoon over. When his pranks made her admire his genius rather than scold the disturbance they caused. When his incessant teasing shifted from mild annoyance to exuberant joy from receiving any attention from him. Of course, these shifts all happened slowly, over a period of time, but the realization of them hit Y/N all at once. She was head over heels for the boy, and she hadn’t even realized she had been falling.

If she didn’t know any better, she’d be convinced that someone was slipping her a love potion. Or, maybe, she just hoped that, because Godric would it be less embarrassing than the reality of things. Because the reality was, Y/N really had just fallen for George Weasley, no potions or gimmicks needed, and while she was irrevocably in love with him, he had no clue.

“Seems like you zoned out for a second,” George lightly nudged her with his elbow, although a glowing smile remained illuminated on his face. “What’s on your mind?”

“Just…” Y/N racked her brain for an excuse, something believable, because she knew George could always see right through her. “Just classes, I guess. Umbridge. All of it. I guess I’m just stressed out.”

“So you’ve been letting me carry on about quidditch?” George sounded shocked, but his teasing smile was comforting. “Please, love, if you need something to take your mind off things, you should’ve just said so.”

Without Y/N even having to tell him what she needed, he was up and off the couch, rushing towards the boys’ dormitory steps. Y/N only had a moment to furrow her brows, before George was rushing back down them with a jumper in one hand and a bag of sugar quills, her favorite, in the other. Y/N exhaled a deep sigh, before the involuntary glow and warmth overtook her. Because no matter how much she longed to only view George as a friend, everything about him permeated her subconscious, lamenting and solidifying his place as more.

He’ll never fall in love he swears

As he runs his fingers through his hair

I’m laughing ‘cause I hope he’s wrong

Y/N and George walked side by side down the corridor, laughter bubbling from both of their chests. Y/N adored moments like these, when she could forget everything for just a moment and just bask in the presence of her favorite person. Ultimately, they always were ruined by her feelings hitting her like a truck, or by someone coming to steal him away, so she always tried to live in those few peaceful moments for as long as she could.

George nudged her with his elbow after making a joke, and just as she was about to respond she noticed the change in his demeanor. He was no longer laughing, but instead a small smirk had appeared on his face as he nodded a few feet ahead of them. Y/N followed his gaze, her eyes landing upon his twin brother leaned casually against the wall. In front of him was Angelina, his girlfriend, rocking on her heels as she giggled at something he said.

“Sickening, aren’t they?” George prodded, shaking his head a bit as Fred swooped down to steal a kiss on her lips.

“I think they’re cute.” Y/N tugged her books into her chest, tilting her head to the side as she watched the love-stricken couple. Angelina could have a tough exterior, and Fred could be a lot to handle, but they just got each other so well. Y/N would never say it aloud, but she envied them.

“You would think so,” George scoffed lightly. “You don’t have to listen to him ramble on about her every bloody second of the day.”

“Maybe you’re just jealous.” Y/N teased, turning her body away from the couple to face George instead.

“Hardly.” George rolled his eyes, shifting his books into one arm. He slowly raked his fingers through his newly cut hair as he spoke again, entrancing Y/N entirely. “Love’s just not in the cards for me right now. Someone’s gotta worry about products, and about making Umbridge’s day as awful as possible.”

Y/N laughed at his joke, although she felt a little sting in her heart. Sure, he had said ‘right now,’ and perhaps that should have incited some hope in her, but it didn’t. It just made her chest ache. She knew it was foolish, but she couldn’t just drop it. She had to push on, test her luck and hope that George would offer her any sort of solace.

“Come on, I think it would be nice.” Her voice was quiet, and she found she suddenly couldn’t meet his eyes. “Someone you could share everything with? Yanno, they could just be like… your person.”

George seemed to mull over her words for a moment, before swinging his arm around her shoulder and continuing to push down the corridor.

“Well, I already have you for that, right?” George beamed down at her. “Why would I need a girlfriend? You’re already my person.”

Y/N was certain her heartbreak could be heard throughout the school.

He looks around the room

Innocently overlooks the truth

Shouldn’t a light go on?

Doesn’t he know that I’ve had him memorized for so long?

The party was in full swing, blinding lights and near deafening music. It was risky, what with Umbridge slinking around every corner, desperate to give students a detention, but they needed this. Something about this year felt different, and not in a good way, and Fred and George knew one of their infamous parties was just small way to lift spirits.

Y/N scanned the crowd of people, nursing sips of her firewhisky every few moments. Parties weren’t necessarily her thing, but she couldn’t deny that she needed to unwind. As her eyes finally fell upon their desired target, she couldn’t help the warmth that bubbled in her chest or the smile that involuntarily rose on her lips. Once George met her gaze, he shot her a wink and beckoned her over, and she was quick to oblige.

“Having fun, darling?” George rested his weight against her, clearly much more drunk than she was.

“A bit,” Y/N giggled. “Not as much as you, I reckon.”

“What’s that s’pose to mean?” George slurred, giving her a drunken pout.

“Nothing, nothing,” Y/N teased innocently, shifting her weight to better support the boy. She wrapped an arm around his back, using it to steady both him and her. “Maybe you should lay off the drinking for now though, what d’ya think?”

“Fineeeee.” George elongated the last vowel before grinning down at the girl. “Always taking care of me, aren’t you?”

Y/N hummed in response, a small smile of her own growing as she felt her cheeks begin to heat up. “What would you do without me?”

“Hm. Probably die. Fred’s doing, no doubt.” He leaned down to rest his head against the top of hers, shutting his eyes for a moment as he centered himself. “Honestly though, I’m really thankful for you. I don’t think I say that enough.”

Drunk George was always a bit sappy, but Y/N certainly wouldn’t complain. His words felt like a shock flowing through her nervous system, hitting every neuron and sparking her to life. Alternatively, she also felt completely useless in producing a response.

“Godric, I really do have the best friend in the world.” He hummed.

And just like that, the shock was sucked from her body and she was left feeling nothing but empty.

He sees everything black and white

Never let nobody see him cry

I don’t let nobody see me wishing he was mine

Y/N had searched for George for hours. After Gryffindors win over Slytherin, what should have been a wonderful celebration quickly went south. Y/N had watched from the stands as three team members held Fred back and Harry loosely clung to George, as both boys attempted to charge Draco. Of course, she couldn’t hear whatever he said that got the two so worked up, but from the look on George’s face she was certain it must have been bad. Everything seemed to move in slow motion once she saw Harry let go of George, and she watched with bated breath and wide eyes as he lunged at the Slytherin boy.

Of course, she had heard about the twins’ and Harry’s lifetime ban from Quidditch, and she knew George must be feeling awful now. So, she had to find him. Even if he didn’t want to see her, or anyone, she had to be there for him.

She had checked just about every spot in the castle she could think of, sighing profusely each time that she came up empty. Fred and George knew the hidden corridors and passageways of the school better than anyone, and she was certain he had used that to his advantage.

Just as she was about to give up, she decided to check one last spot that she knew of. She crept slowly up to the seventh floor, careful to make sure no one was following her. She paced back and forth three times, just as she had been taught, and breathed a sigh of relief when the door appeared. Quietly, she pushed it open, and her breath hitched in her throat when she caught sight of the familiar head of red hair. She had found him.

It didn’t appear he had heard her come in, and she used that to her advantage as she slowly surveyed the room. She felt her heart shatter into a million pieces as she took in the familiar sight of the burrow living room and heard George’s quiet sobs from his place before the fire. After the day he had, all he wanted was the warmth of his home.

“Georgie?” Y/N whispered quietly, letting the door shut behind her.

Immediately, George straightened up and wiped at his eyes. She had never seen him cry before, and she knew there was a reason for that. Fred and him both felt they had to be strong all the time, they had to be the ones cracking jokes and making people laugh even when it was hard for them. When he glanced back, his face was red and splotchy, but a forced smile was plastered on his face.

“Hey, darling.” His voice sounded scratchy, and it was clear it was taking all of his power to keep it together. Y/N could see that his lip was busted, illuminated by the fire, and she wanted nothing more than to cup his face in her hands and nurse him back to perfect health. “Reckon you saw the fight earlier?”

“Your lip…” Y/N spoke softly, approaching him with tentative steps. She didn’t have the capacity to answer his question, not when he looked so broken and beaten down.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” George swiped his thumb over his lip, and Y/N didn’t miss his slight wince. “You should see the other guy.”

“You don’t have to do that.” She finally reached him, taking her place beside him on the carpeted floor. “You don’t have to joke and pretend everything’s fine, not with me.”

George studied her for a moment before a shuddering breath left his lips. As the tears began to pool once more, he could no longer meet her eyes. And that killed her.

“I don’t know why I’m letting this get to me so much.” He spoke, sounding entirely disappointed in himself. “But, the things he said, about my mum, my family. And then Umbridge…” His words cut off as the tears began to roll down his cheeks once more.

“I’m so sorry, George.” Y/N reached out and gently cupped his cheek, allowing her thumb to brush a few tears away. When he leaned into her touch, her heart soared. “You don’t have to shut yourself off, though. I’m here for you, always.”

“I know.” His voice was soft as he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears away.

Slowly, Y/N leaned forward and brought her forehead to his, letting her eyes shut as well. Her hand drifted from his cheek to the back of his neck, gently playing with the hairs at the base of it. The action seemed to calm him a bit, so she continued to do it. By the light and warmth of the fire, the two sat in silence. Neither needed to say anything, they just wanted to be near each other.

“I love you, you know that?” George was the first to break the silence, not bothering to open his eyes or pull away from her touch.

“I know.” Y/N spoke quietly. “And I love you too.”

And Godric, did she mean it. But she was aware that they meant it in entirely different ways, and that George had no idea.

He stands there, then walks away

My God, if I could only say,

“I’m holding every breath for you.”

Months had passed since that night in the room of requirement, and while so much had changed, so much had stayed the same as well. Y/N had felt herself drifting from George everyday, and not because either of them wanted to. George and Fred were leaving, Y/N knew that, and they had to get everything in order to do so. So, Y/N had to push through everyday with him no longer constantly by her side, and she swore it was killing her.

A few nights prior, he had let her know that this was it, that him and Fred were really doing it. She had faked a smile, excitedly throwing her arms around his neck as she expressed how proud she was. And she was proud, but her chest ached and she swore she felt her stomach in her throat. It was selfish, sure, but she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to get through the year without him.

Now she stood in the corridor outside of the great hall, bouncing nervously on her heels as she watched him say his goodbyes to Lee. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry, but there was already a stinging behind her eyes and she feared no matter how hard she tried to keep her emotions at bay, it would be futile.

When George finally turned and took a few long strides to where she stood, her fears were confirmed. Her tears spilled involuntarily as she threw herself into his arms, burying her face in his chest.

“Hey, none of that,” George pleaded softly, gently scraping his fingers up and down her back. “You know I’ll write the second that I’m out of here, and it’s only a short bit before you graduate and I see you again.”

“I know, it’s just…” Y/N sniffled, forcing herself to imprint the moment in her brain. She wanted to remember his scent, and the way it felt to be wrapped up in his arms, and the sound of his voice. Perhaps it was cheesy, or overdramatic, but Y/N could feel her heartbreaking by the second, and holding onto ever piece of him that she could was the only thing keeping her together. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, darling.” George chuckled softly. He pulled back slowly, planting his hands on her shoulders as he looked down at her. “You’ll be out of here before you know it, I promise.”

“You’re right, I know.” Y/N sniffled, wiping at her tears before finally meeting the boy’s gaze. The look he was giving her made her knees weak, and she found herself wanting to spill all of the contents in her heart to him.

He studied her face for a moment longer, but then Fred was calling his name and they both knew it was time. He gave her shoulders a soft squeeze and pulled her into a hug one last time, placing a kiss to the top of her head. Nothing further needed to be said, so he gently ruffled up her hair and gave her a reassuring smile, before turning back towards Fred and beginning to walk away.

The moment was ending, he was really leaving, and she hadn’t told him how she felt. Her heartbeat started to pick up, and her palms began to feel sweaty, because it felt as though it were now or never. She wanted to tell him. She had to tell him.

“George!” She called out, causing him to halt and whirl back around.

“Yeah?” He smiled warmly at her, a few paces ahead.

As she gazed into his blissfully unaware chocolate brown eyes, she found that she just couldn’t. She couldn’t drop this on him, not on one of the most important days of his life. So, she bit down on her lip before shaking her head and forcing a smile.

“Give us a show, yeah?”

“Always do.” George winked.

And just like that, he walked away. And Y/N was left feeling entirely empty.

First thought when I wake up

Is “My God, he’s beautiful.”

So I put on my make-up

And pray for a miracle

Months had passed since the fateful day that the Weasley twins left Hogwarts behind. Just as Y/N had predicted, her time left at the school dragged on horribly. Umbridge only seemed to get worse, even in the twins’ absence, and George was no longer there to comfort her. Still, she pushed through.

After graduation, Y/N was quick to get a job at a coffee shop in Diagon Alley, figuring she’d save up her money while she determined what she wanted to do. It wasn’t the worst job, but with the Wizarding World getting darker by the day, she felt constantly in fear. Still, George was close by, and she once again had him for comfort.

Most nights she’d crash on the twins’ couch, finding it easier to get up in the early mornings and go in to work than staying with her parents in the suburbs. Which usually meant waking up to George preparing breakfast, sleep thick in his voice and his hair still messy. And Godric, was he beautiful like that.

“Sleep well, darling?” George rasped out, a sleepy smile on his face. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself as a small yawn left her lips.

“Mhm.” Y/N hummed, leaning in the doorway of their kitchen. “You?”

“Pretty good.” George grinned, sliding a mug of tea down the counter towards her. Like always, he had made it perfectly to her liking. Y/N cupped the mug in her hands, letting the warmth slowly spread throughout her body and wake her up. “Think I might stop by the cafe on my break, pick up some pastries and coffee.” Just as he finished his sentence, Fred tiredly stumbled into the kitchen.

“You can just say you want to come see me, Georgie.” Y/N teased.

“It’s not just you he wants to see.” Fred winked at the girl, causing her brows to furrow.

“Oi, shut it, Fred.” George glared at his brother.

“What do you mean?”

“He hasn’t told you about his little crush?” Fred smirked, ignoring the daggers being shot his way. “Elizabeth, that girl that works with you. Georgie fancies her.”

Suddenly, even the mug in Y/N’s hand felt ice cold in her grasp. Quickly, she placed it back down on the counter, fearing she would drop it and let it shatter to the ground. A bit of hot tea sloshed out of the mug, scalding her hand and forcing her mind away from her breaking heart.

“Shit, are you okay?” George had already hurried towards her, but Y/N was quick to brush him off.

“‘m fine, I, uh, should just go get ready.”

Y/N didn’t give the boy’s time to question her change in demeanor, but rather quickly gathered her overnight bag and hurried to the bathroom, locking herself inside. She cast a silencing charm before slowly sliding down the wall, allowing herself to sob freely.

Just as she always knew, she’d never be what George wanted.

I could tell you his favorite color’s green

He loves to argue, oh, and it kills me

His sister’s beautiful, he has his father’s eyes,

And if you asked me if I love him

I’d lie

Y/N felt in a daze that entire day at work. She made drinks, rang customers up, and wiped down counters, but she was unable to think about anything other than the revelations of that morning. Of course, Elizabeth was the only other person working with her, and while she normally adored shifts with the girl, she couldn’t find it in herself to even crack a smile at her. It wasn’t Elizabeth’s fault, of course, and she would never purposefully take it out on her, but Y/N just didn’t have the energy to try that day.

When lunch time rolled around and Y/N knew George would be arriving soon, she busied herself with meaningless tasks, intent on avoiding him and saving her heart any extra heartbreak, at least for the time being. She offered him a small smile when he entered, then ultimately let Elizabeth take his order.

As they chatted, Y/N noted the way he lit up with every giggle he pulled from her lips, and she swore she could hear her heart shattering. When he finally left, coffee and pastries in hand, he called out a quick goodbye to Y/N, but she only offered a small nod in return.

“Godric, he’s charming.” Elizabeth sighed, coming to lean beside Y/N. “You two are friends, yeah?”

“Mhm.” Y/N didn’t look up from the sugar packets she was organizing, watching as her hands shook slightly.

“Well, tell me about him!” Elizabeth urged, nudging Y/N with her elbow. “Is he seeing anyone?”

“No,” Y/N sighed, finally forcing herself to look up after finishing her task. “What do you want to know?”

As much as it killed her, she knew what she had to do. George deserved to be happy, and she was his best friend, so she had to help him get there. George would never want her the way she wanted him, and maybe seeing him with someone else would help her get over that fact.

“Anything. Everything.” Elizabeth beamed, her perfect smile on full display.

“Well…” Y/N sighed, gathering her thoughts. “He has a twin, Fred, and they run the joke shop that just opened down the way. He’s a middle child, sort of, I mean Fred is technically the middle child but that’s just because he was born a few minutes earlier. They’ve got three older brothers, then a younger brother and sister. His favorite colors green, but if you ask him he’ll say it’s orange because of his hair. Um, he was shit at potions, but I think that was just because he hated the professor, because really he’s a genius. Oh, and he’s the funniest guy I’ve ever met, which I tell him all the time but cannot say in front of Fred. I don’t know, I guess he’s just about the best person I know, honestly.” Y/N sighed, finishing her rambling with a forced smile.

“Merlin,” Elizabeth stared at Y/N, wide-eyed. “Sounds like you’re in love with him.”

“No, really I’m not. We’ve just been best friends forever.” Y/N laughed, the lie tumbling easily from her lips.

Because that’s what she had to do, that’s what she’d always done. To keep George in her life, to make things easier, she kept her feelings close to her heart. And no matter how much it killed her, she would continue doing it. If that’s what it took to see George happy, that’s what she’d do.

She’d lie.

TAGS: @theweasleysredhair @letsgotothehop @wand3ringr0s3 @sarcasticallywitty15 @mischiefisbeingmanaged @gcdricreads @destourtereaux @thisismysketchbook @george-fabian-weasley @evermoreweasley @amourtentiaa @lunalovecroft @sunshineandshadowss

#george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfic #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley

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scuttle-buttle · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 8

WC: 1533

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: domestic fluff, anxiety, alcohol consumption

🧠

Tuesday afternoon had you and Laszlo working in his office. He sat behind his desk grading quizzes while you worked to transcribe one of his notebooks. Tchaikovsky played quietly over the bluetooth speaker he had on the bookshelf. You had once mentioned that he was your favorite composer, so Laszlo had taken to playing his work frequently during office hours.

Pausing to take a sip of the now-room temperature tea he had brought you, you notice a low humming noise. Turning in the chair you watch your doctor. His eyebrows are scrunched in concentration. He wears the little round reading glasses that make him look old-fashioned and sophisticated. He shakes his head lightly before marking an answer wrong on the paper he holds. But what strikes you most of all, is that he is softly humming along to the music in his deep baritone. He’s actually quite good with his pitch.

“I’ve never heard you sing.”

He looks up at you from over the spectacles. “Pardon?”

“You should sing more often, you have a lovely voice.”

A deep crimson blush spreads on the apples of his cheeks. Laszlo was not one to be embarrassed easily, but sometimes the most inconsequential or mundane things like this would do the trick. He opens his mouth to no doubt give a witty and defensive response when someone knocks on the door.

“Come in,” he states. He isn’t expecting anyone, but there is an essay coming soon so it wouldn’t surprise him if a student wants to get ahead on their planning. The heavy mahogany door clicks and swings open.

“Hello Laszlo. I thought it was about time that I made my way to visit you,” says a familiar feminine voice. Standing in the doorway is none other than Dr. Stratton.

Laszlo sat up and removed his glasses as she entered the office. In the busyness of the last few weeks he hadn’t made it a point to seek her out yet. “Dr. Stratton, hello. I must say it has been quite a long time.” He smiles at seeing her, eyes lighting up.

“Oh, Laszlo, there's no need for such formalities. I’m no stranger that you can’t call me by my name.” Karen waves her hand in a dismissive manner. She then turns in your direction with a smile. “And you my dear, I didn’t expect to see you here?”

“Ah, sorry Dr. Stratton, it must have slipped my mind last time - I’m a TA for uh- Dr. Kreizler.” You almost slip up and call him Laszlo, but catch your tongue at the last possible second. It doesn’t shock you that the two doctors know each other. They both worked in the same field and had lived in central Europe in overlapping times. You’re happy to see two people you think highly of reacquainted.

You miss the confused glance that Laszlo sports between yourself and Dr. Stratton. The two of you obviously knew each other, but how? Karen had been in Vienna for years. Why would she know who you were? How small a world was it that his previous romantic partner and current one knew each other? His curiosity gets the better of him. “Forgive me, but are you two acquainted?” he asks.

“Yeah, I had Dr. Stratton my freshman year for intro psych. I told you about it on my first day, don’t you remember?”

“She was a fantastic student, Laszlo. You would have loved having her in one of your classes. She always had such well thought out ideas to contribute.”

He at least has the decency to look sheepish when he admits that it must have slipped his mind. In truth he hadn’t paid you much attention the first day. He made the effort to learn your name and that was the extent to which he cared at the time.

Dr. Stratton pipes up again. “I only have a moment but I wanted to invite you for drinks later this week so we can catch up. I have some new ideas I’d love to share with you.”

“That sounds wonderful. Please let me know when you would like to and I would be delighted.” The prospect excites Laszlo. It really had been so long since he last spoke to Karen.

“Of course, I’ll see you then.” She nods to Laszlo and gives you a grin and a wave as she leaves. The door clicks behind her.

“Oh-hoo you’ve got a date Laz, should I be worried?” you tease.

He gives you a deadpan look before realizing you are joking. He gives a slight frown. “Karen and I are old friends and colleagues, nothing more.” And previous lovers, which he omits.

“Alright, loverboy,” you quip, turning back to the notebook and laptop.

He finds himself discomforted by your joke. Perhaps he should tell you about Karen… Nevertheless, he tramps down the feeling and gets back to work.

“So why was it that Laszlo couldn’t join us tonight? He was not very forthcoming in his message.” John asks as he sets down your drinks. The three of you were sat at a small corner booth at the tavern you frequented on Friday nights. The evening was young; only a few patrons were there playing pool and having a round.

“He’s out with another professor catching up. They haven’t seen each other in years.” You take a large swig of your lager, the hoppy flavor of the brew coating your tongue. “He almost didn’t go but I insisted that I would survive alone with you two,” you chuckle.

John looks at you over his own glass. “And did he say who he’s with?”

“Dr. Stratton from the psych department.”

“Oh. I see.” John shifts his gaze around, his features going awkward at the information. He makes brief eye contact with Sara before darting them away again. Sara purses her lips, her doe eyes giving nothing away. The tense pause stirs something within you.

“What?” John needles at your question, a slight downturn of his lips as if to say he wasn’t sure what you meant. Sara sips her drink and watches the encounter. “What are you not telling me?”

John scratches at his chin. Sara steps in this time. “It’s nothing, John is just up to usual worrisome self,” she tries to dismiss.

Her answer doesn’t satisfy you. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not exactly inclined to believe you.” Facing John, you continue. “You look like you’ve eaten something that tastes horrible, you’re hesitant to look me in the eye, and you rubbed your jaw when I asked. You’re a terrible liar, John,” you accuse. You aren’t upset, but his sudden inability to speak causes anxiety to bubble in your gut.

He huffs. “You’re beginning to sound just like him, you know.” He quirks a brow at you, annoyed. “Laszlo and Karen have a… long history. As friends and colleagues, of course. They were very close for a while,” he tacks on. He wants to be forthcoming with you, but knows it isn’t his place to actually disclose Laszlo’s relationship with her.

“Oh.” you nod. Your anxiety begins to dissipate at the explanation. “I mean I’m not surprised by it, they both lived near each other for a while in Europe. I’m sure they ran in the same academic circles. Frankly, I’m glad he’s getting to catch up with her, he needs more friends than just us,” you laugh at Sara’s ‘cheers to that’ comment. “Anyways, how’s your week been?” you ask to change the subject.

The night comes to an end soon after; the tone shifted after you retired from the conversation about Laszlo’s absence. You caught a cab back to his home. He had given you a spare key in case you wanted to come over at any time, whether to study in peace or to just be there. He wasn't sure when he would get back, but he did ask for you to wait for him.

Getting ready for bed you chance a look at the clock. It was nearing midnight. Laszlo was still out, which was somewhat uncharacteristic of him, but you figure that he’s just got a lot to talk about with Dr. Stratton. You send a text to check in, but get no response.

As you lay in bed you find your thoughts wandering back to the conversation with John and Sara. “A long history; very close for a while…” plays on repeat in your head. You hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but now it nags at you like a gnat swirling your head in the summertime. Surely nothing happened between the two? Laszlo would have told you. There’s no doubt he knew she was back, given that she’s in his department at the university. And you trust Dr. Stratton, she’s been a great support system and even a friend to you. If the two had been involved he would have let you know, you conclude. Besides, you and the doctor were happy, so even if they had been a thing at one point it surely wouldn’t matter now.

Right?

By the time you finally fall asleep Laszlo still hasn’t come home.

Tag list

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#psychopathia sexualis #the interpretation of dreams #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler fanfic #the alienist #the alienist angel of darkness #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #daniel bruhl laszlo kreizler #scuttle-buttle #daniel bruhl fanfiction

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paisley-print · 3 years ago

Text

Near The Water’s Edge: Chapter Four

After fleeing your abusive husband, you find yourself in the small coastal town of July, North Carolina. Soon you meet Frankie Morales, Air Force Veteran and single dad. As the two of you grow closer, you begin to let go of your past and learn to love again. That is until a strange man shows up in town, and you ’re forced to choose between your safety or the safety of the people that you love.

Inspired by the novel “Safe Haven” written by Nicolas Sparks.

Series Master List

Frankie Morales x Female Reader Rating: 18+ / Heavy adult themes eventual smut. Trigger Warnings: Domestic Abuse, Mentions of death, PTSD, anxiety, mentions of police case, police. Word Count:

Note: Another heavy chapter, but things will let lighter as the chapters go on. Enjoy the first half of the beach day.

Tag List:@qytyy @winter-fox-queen @sherala007@inkededucatednnerdy @quica-quica-quica @hnt-escape @giizhkens-cedar@heythere-mel @toomanystoriessolittletime

The ride passed in comfortable silence, the three of you listening to the radio and Lucy looking out the window at the cars in the next lane. All Frankie could think about was how nice it was to have someone else there to spend the day. He knew Lucy must have been feeling the same way, since he hadn’t seen her so excited about a beach trip in a long while.

He appreciated how patient you were with her; it was something he noticed even on that first day. The way you refused help until you knew she was alright. That moment had stuck with him more than anything else.

The memory of what Will said earlier surfaced in his mind. He shifted in his seat and glanced at you. Yes, you were beautiful. Strikingly so. A woman who could walk into a room and turn every head in the place; both men and women alike. Of course Frankie had been taken with you. He tried to suppress it, scolding himself whenever he was alone in bed at night and found his thoughts wandering....

His only goal right now was to be your friend because he cared for you and knew that you needed help. He wasn’t sure what kind of help, but he sensed that you were alone and at some point in your life something very bad had happened to you. He wouldn’t pry though, he would wait until you were ready to share.

The beach wasn’t too packed; it was still early in the season and the tourists hadn’t moved into their summer homes yet. The boys had done an oddly efficient job at setting everything up. When Ben and Will got into a little spat about how to sink the umbrella into the sand , Frankie simply rolled his eyes and continued to spray Lucy with sunblock. It made you laugh, they all seemed so comfortable with one another.

The day was hot and everybody seemed eager to get into the water, everyone except you and Frankie. You had bought a bathing suit at the store, intending on going in... but somewhere during the car ride you changed your mind.

“You can go in if you want,” you told Frankie “I don’t mind just watching.”

He shrugged, “I don’t normally go in either.”

Then just like that the two of you were suddenly alone, both woefully unprepared for any sort of conversation.

You thought of something quickly, filling the silence “the marina was packed today.”

“Yeah, It’s always like that on memorial day. Most of the summer too, be prepared for the restaurant to start getting busy.”

“I prefer it that way. It makes the shifts go faster. So I’ve been meaning to ask, what exactly do you do? I assumed you owned the marina?”

He paused for a moment. “Uh, technically I do. It was a wedding gift from my parents. An uncle had died and left it to them. I think they just wanted to get rid of it, but I have an office manager that does all the upfront stuff….. normally I just work on repairs.”

Married. That wasn’t what you were expecting, but still no ring. “Did you go to school for that?”

“Kind of. I had training for planes, but you would be surprised just how similar the two are.” You gave him a look. He glanced at you and laughed sheepishly. “What?”

“I’m sorry, did you say planes?”

“Yeah”

“You fix planes?”

He smiled and crossed his arms, trying to seem much cooler than he actually was. “I fly them too.”

“You fly pl-....do you take constructive criticism?”

He laughed, “Of course.”

“Lead with that next time.”

He looked at you skeptically. “How am I supposed to lead with that, exactly?”

“You say, hi my name is pilot Frankie …..”

He shook his head, grinning. “Morales,” he informed you.

“Hi my name is pilot Frankie Morales, nice to meet you.”

He played along, “but how will I know if people actually like me for me, or they just want me to take them for a ride in a plane?”

You shrugged “it's tough being a celebrity, I don’t make the rules.”

“Oh yeah, celebrity, that’s me,” he said sarcastically.

You kicked at the sand with your foot. “Also I liked you before I knew you had the coolest hobby in the world. So, you know that you can trust me.”

He glanced over at you and immediately noticed your smile. He had seen you smile before, but they would never quite reach your eyes. This one, he could tell, was real. He opened his mouth to speak when, in the distance, a wave crashed and Lucy squealed with laughter. Both of you turned your heads to look.

“Will Lucy be okay out there?” you asked. She had on a life vest and was being supervised in the shallows by the rest of the adults. Santi was holding onto a boogie board Lucy used to keep herself up.

“Yeah, I know they seem like idiots but they are good men.” Frankie reached into the cooler to grab a bee and popped the cap off with the bottle opener. “Do you want one?”

You shook your head, “No thank you, but I’ll take a water bottle if you have it.” He set his beer down in his cup holder and reached into the cooler again. The bottle was freezing cold when he handed it to you. Perfect for a sunny day.

You wiped the condensation off on your dress. “Can I ask you something? It’s okay if you don’t want to answer.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, taking a sip of beer.

“Lucy’s mom is she….? Are you two still….? I don’t mean to pry, I guess I’m just a little confused.”

“You and I both,” he said with a sigh. “I’m married but we are not together anymore, haven’t been for a few years.”

“Oh,” you said simply, not finding any clarification in what he told you. If anything, you had more questions, but you didn’t want to push. Besides, it didn’t matter anyway…. you couldn’t, you were married as well. “Does your family live in the area?”

“Nope, they live up north. Katie never really knew her family. She grew up in the foster system and was bounced around until she enlisted at eighteen. It’s just me and Lulu now, and the guys when they find the time to travel here.”

“I’m sorry,” you said honestly. “It must be hard not having your parents support.”

He shook his head and took another sip. “I expected it, even when I was younger, it seemed as though they were only interested in keeping me alive.” He looked down and started to peel off the sticker on the bottle as he spoke. “They are both doctors, mom is an archaeologist and dad an engineer. He actually helped design parts of the international space station…. I think they valued their careers more than anything else... they still do. The only time they ever came down to see Lucy was right after she was born, aside from that it’s usually a phone call on a holiday and a card with money in the mail.”

Although he tried to play it off as if it were just another part of life, you could see that it still affected him deeply. For a moment you thought about reaching out to take his hand, but you stopped yourself. “It really is their loss, they are missing out on two wonderful people.”

Frankie adjusted the baseball cap on his head, a sheepish little smile playing on his lips at the compliment. “Well, thank you. Lucy and I could say the same thing about you. You’re great with her.”

You glanced back at the little girl. She was smiling happily as Ben pulled her along on the boogie board. “I think little girls need to be protected, but not only that - they need to be seen and heard. She is already so independent and fierce. I can see how you encourage her to be her own person and not fit into any one mold. That’s important for little girls to learn.”

He laughed, “Yeah, she definitely gives me a run for my money, that's for sure. She can already repair an engine better than most men I know.”

A large gust of wind came through and took hold of the multi-colored beach ball beside you. Both you and Frankie sprang from your seats to race after it. The thing was fast, and you could not stop it from crashing into the waves. You noticed just how much cooler it was near the water’s edge. Although the temperature outside was sweltering, the Atlantic still held that winter chill. Both of you stared at the ball as it bobbed up and down with the tide.

Frankie waved it away with his hand and squinted in the sunlight. “It’s fine, it’ll probably just float down the beach to another family or something.”

You smirked at him “or choke a poor dimwitted sea turtle to death.”

He paused and shot you a pretend glare, then took off his hat, dropped it in the sand and reached for his shirt.

You giggled “no, no I’m joking. I got it.” You said, starting to strip down to your bathing suit also.

“Well, you gotta be faster than that,” he said, half jogging to the water.

You slipped off your dress easily and ran straight past him into the waves. Frankie was not far behind. You two were pushing against the tide as you reached for the ball. Fingertips just barely brushed against the plastic before it slipped a couple more inches away. This left just enough time for Frankie to swoop in and grab it.

Your stomach hurt from laughing so hard “hey!”

He shrugged, “I’m sorry that I care more about the environment than you.”

You splashed him with water playfully.

The two of you swam for another fifteen minutes, chatting about the town and volleying the ball back and forth. Frankie pretended not to see the way the droplets of water clung to your skin and sparkled under the sunlight. When he noticed the little lace pattern on the bottom of your swimsuit, he knew he had been staring for too long and forced himself to look away. The very last thing he wanted to do was scare you away, or make you believe he had some sort of ulterior motives to helping you.

You both dressed again before walking back up to the chairs. When the two of you returned, the group had already come back from swimming. They were passing around Tupperware full of fruit while Santi was starting up the tiny little grill he had brought.

“You guys really don’t play around for beach days,” you mentioned to Frankie.

“I tried to warn you,” he said with a smirk.

Will had Lucy thrown over his shoulder, carrying her easily with one arm. “Has anyone seen Fry?”

“I’m right here!” Lucy’s little voice drifted out from behind him.

Will started turning, pretending to look for her “Fry! Fry! Where are you!”

Lucy was hardly able to speak through her fit of giggles, “I’m behind you!”

He put her down on the sand, pretending as if he had seen her for the first time. “Jesus Fry! You scared me!”

“Lulu,” Frankie said, “come here so I can put more sunscreen on you.” Frankie took the bottle from the bag and sprayed her again, making sure to get her ears and the tops of her feet as well. He sprayed some in his hands, and Lucy scrunched up her nose as he applied it to her face.

Watching the two of them together made you smile. You were reminded again just how different Frankie was from your husband. David would have felt emasculated by having to take care of a child. If he had attended today, you would be sitting beside him silently the entire time, only getting up to fetch him a beer.

“Do you want some?” Frankie asked, and you were suddenly snapped right back to reality.

Even though you weren’t threatened by a burn yet, you figured it would be a good idea. “Yeah, thank you.” You offered him your arms, then the front of your legs.

“I used to be terrible with remembering sunblock until I got sun poisoning in Iraq, god never again.”

“Iraq?” you asked, and turned so he could get the backs of your legs.

“Yeah, with the air force” he told you, assuming you already knew.

Breath hitched in your throat as he brushed your hair over your shoulder. You cringed at the feeling of the warm sunscreen hitting the back of your neck and jerked away. It was enough for the others to notice. You laughed and lied quickly “damn horse flies hurt when they bite. They say you should wash off the bite with soap to get it to stop the swelling. Is there a bathroom here?”

You sounded believable. Becoming an expert liar had been the only thing keeping you alive for so long.

Frankie felt horrible. He didn’t quite know what he had done to trigger you, but he knew it was something. “It’s pretty far, I can walk with you-”

You shook your head, a wide smile still plastered across your lips. “Nope, I just need a direction.”

Santi jumped in quickly. “That building when we first came in, near the tennis courts.”

You nodded and started forward, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. Why was this happening right now? You were fine a moment ago and now you felt as though you couldn’t catch your breath. You shivered, remembering the feeling again and putting your hand on the back of your neck to stop it.

A soldier…. it made sense. You were too stupid to have seen it, the nicknames and the holiday......

Thankfully, they were single stall restrooms; you pulled the door shut and locked it behind you. The bottom of the floor was disgusting and filled with wet sand. You lifted yourself up onto the counter and sat, trying to calm down. A soldier, a soldier, you kept repeating to yourself. It was too similar. The anger, the potential for violence…. just like your husband.

You placed your head in your hands, and suddenly you were back in New Jersey. It was a bitter February, snow still on the ground. You were in your bathroom hiding as David raged in the living room and screamed at his coworker on the phone. A little boy had been killed by his father weeks ago. David was assigned to the case. When the trial came, the jury found the man innocent and let him walk free, even though all the evidence pointed to him as the killer. It was an embarrassment to David and the entire homicide unit

“God fucking dammit, y/n! y/n!”

You pulled yourself up on shaking legs, straightened your dress and walked out. David was red in the face waiting for you. “I thought I told you to call Comcast, did I not?”

“They said that they could get someone out here Wednesday because of the snow-”

He took the television remote and threw it at you as hard as he could; he aimed for your face but it hit your shoulder instead. The plastic connected straight with your collarbone. You doubled over in pain, holding it as it throbbed. He stalked up to you and you moved back, the fear evident in your eyes.

His voice was teetering on the edge of lunacy as he screamed at you.

“I give you a simple fucking job to do and you can’t even get it done. You’re a lazy fat fucking bitch.” he shoved you hard but you manged to keep standing. “Spend all day sitting on your fucking ass while I have to go to work for the both of us! I need the television because I need to see the news coverage of the fucking case! You knew this! Or would you like me to get fired and the both of us live on the fucking streets!” He shoved you again, and you fell against the stone fireplace. Your hands came up to shield your face as he picked up the remote and hit you with it repeatedly. It caught your lip, busting it open.

You didn’t care about the blood, all you could think about was the gun still holstered in his belt. You got the television fixed the next day-

“Summer?”

You stood quickly and wiped away the tears from your cheeks, pretending like nothing was wrong. “Yeah?”

“Are you alright?”

It was Frankie.

You shook your head and smiled in the dingy plastic mirror in front of you. “Yeah, why?”

He could hear that you had been crying. He pushed on the door but it was locked.

You didn’t like that at all; you slipped off the counter and sat on the floor, against the door. Bracing it closed with your body “I’m fine-”

“You’re crying-”

“No, I’m not I- I get allergies and that horsefly hurt. I am such a baby I’ve always had a low pain tolerance-”

“If it’s something that I did -”

“Nope, it’s nothing that you did. I’m fine, I’m really, really fine I promise. I just got overwhelmed and needed some air. I’ll be back in a few minutes, and you guys can eat without me. Don’t let me hold you up.”

Frankie wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t want to force anything. “Would you like me to save you a plate?”

“Yes, please.”

You could hear his footsteps start to retreat and relaxed a little.

“Summer?”

“Yeah?”

Frankie was about to say something, but he thought better of it. He figured it was better to let you have your space now.

#ntwewy #nearthewater'sedge #pedro fanfiction #pedro fanfic #Frankie Morales fanfiction #Frankie Morales fanfic #frankie morales #Frankie fanfiction #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction

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kinktae · 5 years ago

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bitchin’ || pt. 10 (FINAL)

The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

pairing: fratboy!jungkook x reader

word count: 5.1k

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l

warnings: angst

A/N: This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness! Thank you all for sticking with this story and these characters <3

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

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PART TEN (FINAL)

Jungkook wasn't looking for you when he finally found you that day on campus. He had just come from the student services building, leaving the meeting with his counselor feeling somewhat content. He had officially changed his major to digital communications and multimedia. He never would have done it if it weren’t for you making him feel like he could, of course.

It had a full week since break had ended, and he felt like he was in hell, knowing you were somewhere nearby on campus, but not knowing whether or not you’d want to see him yet. If ever.

He had just finished buying his lunch and was heading to find a table to sit outside when he finally saw you.

You looked just as lovely as he remembered you, your hair braided prettily with your torso bundled up tight in your oversized jacket. You always hated the cold weather, he remembered.

You weren’t by yourself, though, Yara and Taehyung sat with you, laughing amongst themselves. The three of you together looked so normal that before he could stop himself; he found himself walking over to your table, his heart in his throat.

“Hey, guys.”

All conversation came to a halt, the three students turning to face the cautious frat boy, looking familiar yet different all the same.

Jungkook’s words sung awkwardly in the air for a moment as Yara and Taehyung exchanged a quick look. You didn’t need to see Jungkook to know the words had come from him. You recognized the soft timbre of his voice immediately, your eyes locking down on the denim material of your jeans.

Fuck.

For a moment, Jungkook worried that his greeting might go by ignored altogether. The idea made him feel sick, that he had lost the three most important people to him within three weeks.

Taehyung broke away from Yara’s stare, thankfully flashing a genuine smile at him, “Sup, JK. Long time no see. How was your break?”

You let yourself steal a glance at Jungkook as Taehyung sat up and offered him a hug, which he returned gratefully.

You were surprised. His hair was no longer shaggy and long like you remembered it. Instead, it had been freshly cut, looking healthy and neatly styled for the first time since you met Jungkook.

But despite his clean look, there was something off about him. Something that made you feel guilty.

“It was fine.” Jungkook responded halfheartedly, eyes flickering over to you experimentally. You were the whole reason he had come over after all. His stomach sank as he found your eyes jerking away from him, directing your attention to anywhere but him.

“Take a seat, man.” Taehyung invited, ignored the deadly glare being drilled into the side of his face by your best friend.

Jungkook contemplated for a moment, but nodded, joining the table hesitantly.

“Hey, Yara.” He began politely, blatantly aware of the way the girl in question was looking at him as if he were the gum on her shoe that she had stepped in.

“Jockstrap.” The petite girl acknowledged him dryly.

You could feel his attention shift over to you.

God, please don’t.

“Y/N.” His voice was soft and apologetic, and you wanted to scream. You’d be lying if you hadn’t been toying with the idea of possibly meeting up with him once back in school, but as he sat across from you; looking at you as if you were the only person in this room, you felt yourself begin to panic.

Yara could feel the way you had tensed beside her, every alarm in her protective best friend system going off. She turned to you immediately.

“So, Y/N, you never finished your story. How was Erik?” She began casually as if the two of you had been discussing this topic before Jungkook arrived.

“Um...” You blinked, confused at the sudden change of conversation by your scheming best friend.

“Was it weird to catch up with him after all this time?” She continued, words loud and clear as her lips wrapping around the straw of her drink.

“Oh, um...” you caught on, mind racing as you caught Jungkook’s eyes widening at Yara’s words from the corner of your eye.

You knew exactly what your best friend was trying to do. She knew how Jungkook felt about your ex and was using that against him. Two weeks ago, you would’ve gladly rubbed Erik in Jungkook’s face, but after weeks of contemplation, you just felt crummy.

“Erik as in… you ex-fiancé Erik?” You heard Jungkook speak up finally, not even bothering to hide the disbelief in his tone.

And then, you made the mistake of meeting his eyes. All the nerve you could have possibly called upon at that moment dissipating the moment you saw the disquiet confusion in his eyes.

“I, um…”

He didn’t have to say a word. You knew exactly how he felt, his face said it all.

“...have to go.” You finished weakly, chair dragging against the tile floor as you stood up abruptly.

Jungkook was the next up on his feet, “Y/N.”

Any effort he had planned on going after you was halted by an angry-looking Yara, who was throwing her bag over her shoulder as she hurried after you.

“Back off, shit head.” She scowled as she jogged off, leaving Jungkook feeling terrible, sinking back into his seat with a defeated breath.

Taehyung couldn’t help but stare at his best friend with pity. And as much as he wanted to offer some words of comfort, he had none, caught in between friends.

“Fries?” He finally spoke up, a sheepish smile on his handsome face.

Jungkook turned to face his brother slowly, eyes falling on the tray of the potato treat on the table before reaching for one, offering Taehyung a grateful smile that didn’t seem to reach his eyes.

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Jungkook had no idea what he was doing. In fact, standing in front of the dorm door of two girls who he knew most definitely hated him had him feeling like a real tool.

Of course, Jungkook wanted everything to go back to the way it was, with you and him still spending every second together and with Yara as your abrasive, but supportive cheerleader. But he had given up on the idea after the first 15 unanswered phone calls. He had given up on you ever returning his feelings, and that wasn’t why he was here.

As he rapped his knuckles against the door, he knew that he had come to apologize. You were owed at least that much. If you listened, he would tell you how sorry he was and just how much he would take it all back if he could. How he didn’t want to keep bothering you, but couldn’t leave you alone until you got the apology you deserved.

All courage seeped out of him, however, the second he was met with a tiny stature and auburn hair, the scarier of the dorm’s residents answering the door. Meaning he had seconds to get his point across before Yara shut the door in his face.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me right now—”

To his surprise, however, the scary girl walked out into the hall to face him, shutting the dorm door behind her.

Jungkook took a step back as a precaution, knowing better than to piss off an already angry Yara.

“Oh no, I’ve got loads to say to you, actually." Yara said once she was sure the door was closed, her voice low and hard. "Like how you’re a jerk. A tool. A coward. Not to mention a total scumbag–”

Jungkook nodded, interrupting her without thinking, "I know, and I–"

"Oh, I'm not done!” She huffed, and the meathead fell quiet. “A fool. A buffoon. A pathetic excuse for a man. A lecherous ape. A salacious, prurient degenerate!"

Jungkook flinched at Yara’s words. And what colorful words they were too. She was making good use of that English degree, he supposed.

A few silent, tense moments ticked by, neither of them saying a word.

"Anything else?" Jungkook offered, rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. Yara glared at him, arms crossed over her chest defensively.

"...Bedswerver."

He blinked, "Is that even a word?"

"I dunno, I read it in Shakespeare's Winter's Tale the other day. Just felt right, not gonna lie." She shrugged passively.

"Well... I guess I deserved that."

"You think?" She scoffed, clearly still heated. “You’ve been fooling around with Y/N all this time like it’s nothing, and at the first chance, you fuck your ex… only to sleep with Y/N again immediately after! Do you realize what a fucking douche move that is? To both Y/N and Kiri?”

Jungkook could feel his cheeks turning red, very much feeling like a child getting reprimanded by their parent. A child who was undoubtedly in the wrong.

“You're right. I fucked up. Majorly. And I know we can't ever go back to the way we were, that's not why I’m here. I hurt her. She deserves so much – far more than I could ever give her – but at least this... at least I can give her the apology she deserves."

Yara pressed her lips together, letting out a huff if agreement, “I'm surprised your itty bitty, underdeveloped, primitive ant-brain could figure that much out."

Jungkook frowned. She really was laying on the insults thick, wasn’t she?

“Ok, fine, sorry, I'm done now.” She sighed, arms coming back to her sides.

Of course, she was pissed. This entire situation was so entirely frustrating. From the moment those two had shook hands, it was evident that their relationship was heading down a path that neither of them was ready for.

Staring down the dark-haired boy, Yara wondered if this all could have been avoided if these two boneheads were just honest with one another from the beginning. But no, instead, feelings went left unsaid, and her best friend got dirty dicked in the process.

Relationships – even fake ones – were way too much drama for Yara.

Jungkook had remained quiet for now, allowing the door keeper to stare him down, trying to decipher his sincerity in his intentions. She let out a hum.

“You have 15 minutes.”

Jungkook felt his shoulders relax.

“She’s in the living room. I’ll be standing out here the entire time, and if I hear you as so much as raise your voice even a single decibel, I will rip off your dick.”

Of course Yara was going to let Jungkook in; she knew there was a lot still needed to be said between the two of them, and Y/N deserved a chance to speak her mind as well. Besides, Y/N had been rambling all week about reaching out to Jungkook herself. It was the closure both of them needed, and she wasn’t bitter enough to deny him that opportunity. She was just currently enjoying the way he squirmed under her stare.

“Thank you, Yara.”

“I'm serious. You will be penis-less. You'll go crying to the doctors to try and reattach it, but it'll be all in vain as I'll have ripped it to shreds by the time you reach them, way past the point of reconstruction. Do you understand?" She deadpanned.

Jungkook swallowed, head nodding rapidly, "I understand.”

Letting out a sigh, Yara stepped aside, clearing the path to the door.

“Don't fuck this up, jockstrap." She warned, an unexpected softness in her tone.

Holding her stare for a moment, he sent her one final grateful nod, reaching out and pushing the door open.

Entering the dorm, there was a weird sense of melancholy to the space. What once was a place where he spent most of his time, now just felt like an unfamiliar dorm– one in which he wasn’t particularly welcomed.

"Y/N?”

You weren’t propped up on the couch like he had expected you to be. In fact, as Jungkook scanned the space, he realized you weren’t in the common area at all.

Were you in your room? He wasn’t exactly sure how comfortable he felt walking into your room without your permission, given the current circumstances.

Whatever inner debate he was having, however, stopped off quickly as he took note of the light coming from within the shot door of the bathroom. And most notably, the shadow of two feet from underneath the door.

You had panicked.

Naturally, at the sound of Jungkook’s voice, you scurried over to press your ear to the door, hung on his and Yara’s every word. When you heard that he was coming in, you were sent scrambling for a place to hide. The bathroom was merely the best you could do with such a short time frame.

You cursed internally as his footsteps neared your way, stopping once he had reached the locked door.

"I know you're in there."

You tutted, “So? Am I not allowed to use the bathroom in my own dorm?"

"You aren't using the bathroom." His voice called out from the other side of the door.

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not. You’re pee shy and there is no way you'd be using the restroom with me in the room."

You grimaced. In all the time you had spent with Jungkook, you had timed all your bathroom activities skillfully so that there was no chance he could hear you. This bathroom habit wasn’t only with him. Even Yara had to be tucked away in her room for you to pee comfortably. It was an odd, insignificant quirk of yours and frankly, a stupid thing for him to remember.

“Please… can we talk?”

“Just leave me alone, Jungkook.” You leaned your back into the door, voice void of emotion.

“I can't. Not with how we left things.” He placed a hand against the door, wishing it was your face he was holding instead. “You’re my best friend, Y/N.”

Bitterly, you thought back when Jungkook had called Kiri his best friend the night the two of you first slept together. One way or another, it always seemed to come back to her.

God, did it piss you off.

Angry now, you pushed yourself off the door, turning to face it as you imagining it was Jungkook's stupid face your eyes were burrowing into.

“You said Kiri came over asking for you back, yet you still came over and slept with me the next day. Even though the two of you had sex the night before. Do you understand how that makes me feel?”

“I’m—”

“Like garbage!" You emphasized, the white paint of the door somehow irritating you further. "I felt like I was something you threw away and picked back up whenever you felt like getting your dick wet.”

Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, and you tried your hardest to not let your emotions get the best of you.

“Not to mention to everyone else, it looks like you cheated on me. Which makes me look like a fucking idiot." You scoffed.

Jungkook said nothing in reply, which somehow made it easier to say all you should have said that day in your room.

“It just sucks to realize that someone you once cared about sees you as nothing more than a toy. It fucking sucks.”

Your words were small now, clearly hurt, and it made Jungkook’s heart sink.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re right, you’re totally right. It was fucked upand gross and disrespectful, and I'm so fucking sorry I did that to you. I’m so sorry I hurt you like that. Y/N, you’re not just a toy to me. You’re more. You are so much fucking more.”

“...Why did you sleep with her?” You muttered pathetically, selfishly wanting to know.

Jungkook pressed his lips together. He had been asking himself that very question every day since he did it.

"I just... I thought it was what I wanted. It was what I was supposed to want.” His eyebrows furrowed. "The entire time, I kept telling myself... This is it. I got what I wanted. Y/N was right. We're both gonna be happy now. But that’s not what happened. And that scared me."

God, how he wished he could see you right now.

"I didn't come over the next day to sleep with you. I just saw you... that was not... my head went blank and– ah, fuck, I practiced what I was gonna say on the way here. What am I even saying right now?" Jungkook groaned out to himself suddenly, hands entangling themselves in his hair.

How was he supposed to tell you that the second you opened that door that morning, all logical thinking stopped, and all he could think about was the fact how much he had missed you last night and how badly he needed to feel your lips again to forget hers. How he lost himself in the way you felt and tasted wasn't strong enough to stop himself.

In fact, he had nearly forgotten all about his terrible mistake when you suddenly brought up spending Christmas together, realization sinking over him. Of course, he wanted to spend it together, but there was no way he could lie to you for any longer. No way he could meet your parents after what he had done.

There was no sugarcoating it. He really was pathetic. And there is no easy way to tell you that.

"Why are you here? Honestly, Jungkook, what do you want from me?" Your words rang out suddenly, taking Jungkook by surprise.

What did he want from you?

What didn't he want from you? He wanted all of you. He wanted to tell you that you were the only thing he thought about all winter break. How you could take his heart and do whatever you deemed fit with it. That you had him wrapped around your finger, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

But none of that mattered now.

"I know we can never go back to how we were before. What we had is ruined and that's because of me. I just wanted to apologize for ever making you feel like all I ever wanted was sex from you. I'm so fucking sorry."

You had your hands buried in your palms, wishing this wasn’t all so hard. That you had just broken the contract off the second you realized you had real feelings for him.

"The night at the roller rink, you told me that if I love something and it inspires me then I should go after it, right?”

Lifting your head from your hands, you frowned at Jungkook’s words.

Your roller skating date? God, that felt like ages ago...

“Yeah. So?”

“S-So, um–" Jungkook stuttered, ears turning red as he contemplated his next words, "so, for me... you're that something. And I couldn't just let you go with at least letting you know how sorry I was. Fuck, that was so lame, sorry, I probably sound like such a wastoid right now."

You wanted to cry, not because you weren’t happy but because you were so tired of hating Jungkook and pretending like you didn't just want to run back to him. You had spent the last three weeks rejecting his calls yet wondering all the same what he was doing. Your heart and mind were in constant paradox, torn between wanting him back and wanting him to know just how much he had hurt you.

Your mind ultimately won the battle, of course, but as Jungkook stood just a few inches of drywood apart pouring his heart out, it was hard to say which major organ was responsible for your next words.

The creak of the door being pushed open sent Jungkook's eyes wide, revealing your hesitant form. You had your arms crossed over your chest as if to guard the contents inside of it.

You looked like an angel underneath the bathroom's blue fluorescent lights, beautiful and lovely, a stark contrast from your next crushing sentence.

“I slept with Erik.”

You weren’t expecting the news to go over well with him, but what you weren’t expecting was the way Jungkook’s face fell entirely slack as if he had just witnessed his world fall in front of him.

You weren’t exactly proud of what you had done. You and Erik had gone out for dinner, admittedly enjoying each other’s company and catching up on all the years you spent apart. You didn’t have plans on sleeping with Erik when you first called him up. Honestly, it was Jungkook’s name being continuously brought up during the car ride home that spurred on the impulsive decision to kiss Erik, just to get him to shut up really. But more than that, you knew precisely where kissing him would lead.

As always, Erik was predictable, and he fed into your request without question, and you felt terrible about it. It was a mistake at worst and a distraction at best.

Hardly even a distraction, as Jungkook was inescapable. He was in the back of your mind the entire time, looking at you with sad doe eyes that you were trying your hardest to ignore.

Even as you slipped back on your shirt when the deed was done, code brown starting to set in as the reality of what you had done hit you, you couldn’t escape him, as Erik wished you well and that he hoped things between the frat boy and you worked out.

Needless to say, you spent the rest of you break absolutely miserable — hating yourself using Erik in the same way Jungkook had used you.

The sound of Jungkook swallowing dryly brought you back from your thoughts. “Did you… I mean, are you two back together?”

He placed a hand into the front of his jean’s pocket as you contemplated your next words.

He continued on, “If… if he makes you happy..."

A gross feeling washed over you, watching as the boy you loved tried to hide the way his breath was trembling. You bit down on your bottom lip.

“When Erik and I…” you paused as you watched Jungkook’s expression fall further, “I was expecting it to be all intense and emotional. Because I once loved him.”

You frowned, the memory still somewhat fresh, “But I wasn’t. It felt foreign and detached and—”

“Wrong.” Jungkook finished for you, a melancholic shine in his eyes. You nodded.

“I didn’t understand at first. I have been having casual sex with you for all this time, but it felt nothing like that.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” He breathed.

You turned away from him a moment, trying to grab hold of your wit before you could once again flee from the scene, leaving your meathead ex fake boyfriend in your dust.

"I'm not saying what you did was justifiable, because it's not, but... I guess I'm not exactly in any position to not forgive you. Because I used Erik to forget about you. And it felt horrible."

"What are you saying?" Jungkook didn’t know what to make of what your cautious words.

Turning back towards him, you held his stare with certainty.

"I'm saying that... I forgive you."

A sharp breath came tumbling out of the boy’s mouth, eyes growing wide as he tried to make sense of how he had ever earned your forgiveness after what he had done to you.

He took a step towards you instinctively, only to be stopped as you held out a hand to halt him.

“I need you to understand something.” Your arms tightened around yourself, growing shaky. “I don’t need you. I had a life before you, and I know I'll have one after you.”

Jungkook nodded at you, despite how much it hurt him. He understood. You had given him forgiveness; he wasn’t owed anything more.

All you had to do was say the word, and he’d be out of your hair forever. He’d do anything you’d ask him to, despite the way every part of him was screaming for you.

“I don’t need you… but I don’t think I want a life without you.” You finished shyly.

Your eyes were locked with his when suddenly a small noise escaped him, eyes pulling away from yours as his head moved to attempt to hide the way his eyes had grown wet.

At the sight of a tear rolling down the side of his face, you were by his side, hands gripping his jacket worriedly.

"Wha– Why are you crying?!" You panicked, never having dealt with a crying meathead before. This was uncharted territory.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. I just..." your heart lurched at his broken tone, watching as he wiped at his cheeks with the back of his hands. "Didn't think I'd ever see you again after this. I missed you so much. I'm so fucking sorry for hurting you."

“I missed you, too.” You cooed softly, tugging at his jacket so that he’d face you again.

And suddenly, the sound of paper hitting the floor rang out, the two of you pulling back to look at what had come tumbling out of Jungkook’s pocket.

“What’s that?” You asked innocently, not seeing the way his cheeks had gone pink.

“N-Nothing.” He was quick to reach for it, cursing lowly as you beat him to it, taking the crumpled up paper in your hands.

He watched miserably as you pried it back open, scanning through the paper in confusion.

“Jungkook… What is this?” You muttered.

Jungkook’s face was positively burning, time moving slowly as he realized what was about to happen.

“I, um, wrote it one night when I couldn’t sleep... I forgot I put it in this jacket. I meant to throw it away.”

Your face held an expression of uncertainty, as if unsure how to proceed. It was undoubtedly addressed to you, an affectionate “Nerd” up on the top.

So you opened the paper further, flatting it out with your hands as you began to read.

“Do you mean what you wrote?” You finally spoke, voice wavering.

Jungkook wished he could disappear into the floor right now. Never in this wildest dreams did he imagine a scenario where you would find out about his feelings for you through a sappy love note he had written when he was moping around late one night.

“Yeah, I do.” He told you honestly, your heart skipping several beats.

In that case, it was time you were honest as well.

“You're right when you say things can't go back to the way things were.” You began, cheeks warm. “Not because you ruined it but because I'm not putting myself through that again. I'm sick of half-assing shit and tired of lying to you and to myself. I know what I want, and it's you… not because I have something to prove, not because I want to make Kiri jealous but because of the sole reason that you make me happy." Your strong facade began to crumble as insecurity began to suddenly sink in. “But if you don’t want that, if you don’t want something real... then nevermind, I guess.”

And all at once, Jungkook realized that all this time it hadn’t been just him.

Two arms made their way around you, and suddenly, you were engulfed in warmth, Jungkook’s close proximity pulling a wave of emotions out of you.

“I love you, nerd. I don't why it took me so long to realize that, but I know without a doubt that you are it for me. Nothing could change the way I feel about you.”

And finally, you let out a cry, breaking down all the walls you had built up to keep Jungkook from perceiving you as weak. Because maybe you were. Maybe you were weak for this boy, but as you buried your wet face into his chest, you no longer cared, the weight of everything you had felt these past three weeks crushing down on you.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Jungkook cooed softly, chin coming up to rest upon your head.

"I love you, too." Was your weepy reply.

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered shut, tears rolling down his cheeks as he pressed a kiss into your head, wanting nothing more than to stay like this with you forever.

"Are you two dorks done crying?" Yara’s voice rang out suddenly, causing both of you to jump apart.

"Yara, you creep! Privacy, dude! Ever try knocking?" You sniffed, wiping at your face hurriedly.

How long had she been standing there?

"What? Like you were peeing with Jungkook in the bathroom? Please." She waved you off, walking back into the living room to give you two some privacy. She did say Jungkook had 15 minutes before she’d have to come back in after all. "Anyway, Tae will be over in 10 minutes for the Saved By The Bell marathon that’s on so you guys are more than welcomed to join." She called out from her newly seated position on the couch.

"Sure, whatever..." You huffed back, flashing Jungkook an exasperated look. So much for that special moment.

Jungkook didn’t seem too bothered though, the fullest, most boyish grin on his lips, taking in the puffy-eyed girl in front of him that he could now with full confidence call his.

And that girl couldn’t help but smile back at him just as stupidly because for once, there was nothing fake about your boyfriend.

"How is it that a piece of paper is the start of both our real and fake relationship?" He mused suddenly, hands reaching to take yours. You hummed, taking in the way your fingers intertwined.

“Funnily enough, we broke, like, every rule of our contract." You quirked up a brow.

“You know…” Jungkook began, flashing you a mischievous look, “it states very clearly on the bottom that the contract will be terminated upon completion. We can’t terminate the contract if we never completed it.”

“What are you saying? We keep the contract going?” You laughed.

“I’m saying that you are contractually stuck with me.”

“That contract is in desperate need of some amendments.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah? And what did you have in mind?” His hands found your waist, pulling you into him.

“Rule number one has gotta go. The one kiss policy just won’t slide with me.”

Jungkook let out a laugh, his palm finding your cheek, eyes locked on your lips. You were preening for his kiss, mouth parting slightly as you anticipated it.

“Partners?”

The question took you by surprise, eyes widening at your not so pretend lover.

Idiot.

“Partners.” You smiled softly, eyes shiny and brimming with tears as he kissed you for what must have been the millionth time, but still somehow felt like the first.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

And just like that, bitchin’ is over :’( thank u all for ur support, seriously I was not expecting this kind of response (consistent too!) to this story and I'm so beyond grateful and I hope you all know I never take your engagement for granted. thank you for letting me share my stories <3

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montrealmadison · 3 years ago

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drink deeply

or, as they say at samwell, “penitus potes.” shitty gives the toast at jack and bitty’s wedding. for @zimbitsweddingofficial and day two of zimbits wedding week: the wedding itself!

just for fun, a draft version of the beginning of this fic with lardo, ransom, and holster’s “helpful” edits can be found via google doc here. hope y’all enjoy! <3

Good evening, everyone! On behalf of Jack and Eric, thank you all so much for being here tonight, and welcome to what could very well be the most highly anticipated wedding reception of 2019. I mean, this party was planned by the likes of Suzanne Bittle and Alicia Zimmermann. We are in for a treat, folks.

Before we get to all that, I’d also like to extend a particular welcome to those in attendance who are part of the playing, coaching, and/or office staff of the Providence Falconers. Glad you could all make it this evening; I know this past week was a little bit busy for you guys.

[Insert appropriate pause and gesture to the punch bowl, which on closer inspection is actually—oh yeah—the Stanley Cup the Falcs won three days ago. Hold for inevitable applause, general hysteria, and/or hooting/hollering from Tater.]

For those of you who don’t know me, I’ve been trying to decide whether I should introduce myself by my first name, which will inevitably get me mocked by my friends until the end of time, or by my nickname, which will definitely scandalize anyone who has not spent a significant amount of time around twenty-year-old guys who play hockey. However, as I look around the room, I’m realizing that most of you probably either raised, spent significant time around, or were once a twenty-year-old guy who played hockey. To the rest of you, I am profoundly sorry.

So, hi! I’m Shitty, and I’m Jack’s best man.

read more below or on ao3

Being someone’s best man, as I’ve realized over the last few months, should really come with a playbook or an instruction manual or something, because it’s a task unlike any other you’ll ever take on. In addition to being a friend, you have to be a confidant, an expert at bachelor-party debauchery (I think my college resume definitely prepared me for this part) and someone who’s not afraid to step in to make last-minute decisions so the grooms don’t have to. You also have to do all of these things without getting fired from your job or stepping on anyone’s toes, up to and including: the couple getting married, the other people in the wedding party, the grooms’ parents, the wedding planner, and most importantly, Moomaw, whose word is law around here.

(Seriously. She made the pie tonight, people. Bow down to her.)

But as much as the role can feel a little bit like you’re being thrown in at the deep end, it also definitely comes with its perks. Tonight, I have both the honor and the challenge of somehow summarizing how much I love Jack and Eric in a speech that is heartfelt and witty yet also brief so that we can get to the aforementioned pie as quickly as possible. If you’re still following me here, that is a tall order—but here goes nothing!

I met Jack Zimmermann on our first day of freshman year at Samwell, during the bright, hot summer of 2011. I was participating in the time-honored tradition of moving into a dorm on the third floor of a building with no elevator and no air conditioning in the middle of August. It builds character, or so the good folks in Samwell administration probably tell themselves. Anyway, athletes got to move in early for preseason, so I was expecting to be one of the only guys on the floor for at least a couple days. I was just carrying the last box into my room when the door next to mine opened and—well, you can probably guess who walked out.

Now, I grew up in Boston, which means I also grew up around hockey culture. I’d heard the news that Jack was coming to Samwell, so I knew who he was when he stepped into the hall in that same vague way that you kind of-sort of recognize celebrities hustling down the street or through the airport with their sunglasses on. And he gave me that same vibe—“I know you know who I am, and I’d very much like not to be bothered about it.”

Here is something that will not shock you if you know us: Jack was the first friend I made in college. Here is something that might shock you if you know us: That definitely doesn’t mean we were friends at first. By his own admission, Jack wasn’t at Samwell to make friends at all. He told me, much later, that he was only planning to go to play hockey, get his life back on track, and keep his head down as much as possible.

So in retrospect, maybe it was an unlucky thing for Jack that he ran into the one person who wasn’t going to let him do that.

Because no matter who you are or where you’re from, freshman year of college breeds a unique kind of terror I’ve never felt anywhere else. There’s a lot of pressure to completely remake yourself, to become the person you maybe never could have been in your hometown. By coming to Samwell, I wanted to be a different kind of kid than the one that Andover had raised. Jack wanted to be a different kind of kid than the one he’d spent twenty years telling himself he had to be. As much as neither of us wanted to admit it, we both wanted similar things out of our college experience, and we needed a support system to do that. And so, however begrudging the two of us were about it at first, we started to bond more and more.

It wasn’t always easy. For one thing, my idea of a good time was a lot louder than Jack’s—who enjoyed such scintillating pursuits as “watching golf” and “going to bed at a reasonable hour”, neither of which were quite in my vocabulary at the ripe old age of eighteen. Also, if it’s before six in the morning, he has a hard time remembering to speak English, which used to make for a lot of stilted conversations between the two of us as we walked to early morning practice. (On a completely unrelated note, the first and probably only thing I ever learned in Québécois is how to swear.)

I don’t remember the exact tipping point at which Jack and I really became friends; I think it was more of a quiet acknowledgment that we liked having each other around, that we balanced each other out in ways that neither of us initially knew we needed. What I do know is that, slowly but surely, I started to get glimpses of the Jack that exists off the ice. And so began one of the most extraordinary journeys of my life, because the only thing crazier than knowing Jack Zimmermann is actually knowing Jack.

Here are some things that I’ve learned in the process: He’s on his third pair of neon yellow running shoes, which he buys specifically because the color makes him happy. Before either of us tried Eric’s pies, the only thing that could make him cheat on a meal plan was a sleeve of Double Stuf Oreos. (Don’t ask him how to eat them correctly unless you’re interested in a twenty-minute speech on exactly how they have to be pulled apart.) And he loves Captain America, although it is the opinion of this best man that America’s ass has nothing on his hockey butt. Have you seen that thing? It has Internet fans in at least two different countries.

But I digress.

In our sophomore year we lived next to each other again, by choice instead of by chance, in what I can only describe as the pinnacle of American college living: the Samwell Men’s Hockey Haus. We used to pull the comforter off of one of our beds and climb out onto the roof and clear off the snow so we could share the blanket, look up at the stars, and listen to the bass thumping through the wall of the house next door. On nights when other things felt confusing, this one part of my life was clear. There’s something about sitting out under the open sky that just makes it easier to talk to a guy, you know?

Some nights the conversations we had were funny. Some nights they were serious. Some nights we said nothing at all, just sat secure in the knowledge that someone cared enough to exist alongside us for a little while. There was always an unspoken agreement between us on nights like these: I got your back. For me, Jack’s friendship became a rock, a refuge. It’s something that I came to depend on that year and still do to this day.

As for the content of those late-night conversations—well, some things do have to stay between friends. I’m sure Jack will agree, especially because he has so graciously allowed me to get up here and lovingly roast him just a little bit.

So let’s skip ahead again, to yet another August, the start of our junior year, and the arrival on the scene of one Eric Bittle. This kid burst into our ranks like a ray of Southern sunshine and turned pretty much everything upside down in the process. In the first five minutes of being in the Haus, he somehow made us a pie? Folks, I'm not kidding, it was the best thing I’ve ever eaten. We were a bunch of guys who didn’t know what we were missing until we had it, and let me tell you, it was one hell of a semester after that. In pretty short order we had curtains on the windows and baked goods on the counters, and Samwell Men’s Hockey started to become not only a team but a family.

That was off the ice, at least. On it, things were a little more complicated. As our dear friend and former goalie John Johnson said to me, Jack and Eric hadn’t gone through their character development yet—whatever that means.

Take our third or fourth practice with the full team that year, for example. It had gone… uh. Poorly, would be a word. Later that night I heard some rustling on the roof outside, and God knows I was willing to do just about anything but my homework—so I stuck my head out the window and there was Jack, watching the stars. I asked him if he wanted a buddy, and he said alright, so I slid out and sat down next to him.

That was pretty usual for us at this point. What wasn’t usual was the topic of conversation. The first thing Jack said to me was, “Bittle’s gonna get eaten alive when our schedule starts.” (Remember, people, they’re married now!) The second was, “I want to help.”

Here’s another thing about Jack: Underneath the veneer is a guy who just cares so intensely it’d shock you if you knew nothing else about him. It shocked me a little that day. I think it even shocked him to admit it, to the point where I had to say, “Jack, it’s not a criminal offense to care about other people. Even if it feels like you’re doing it for yourself.”

So he helped. He offered an olive branch, and Bits took him up on it. I’d hear the two of them get up in the morning, hours before the rest of us had to be at Faber, for checking practice. None of the rest of us ever knew exactly what went down, but one thing was for sure—Eric put in a ton of work to overcome some of the fears that had followed him to college. He got better, and Jack relaxed. The two of them really started working as a team, and things started looking up from there.

The day that they told us they were dating was pretty amazing. Eric is so full of light no matter how bleak a situation may look, but that day he was literally almost glowing. And I’ve seen Jack in moments after victory and loss, at his best and at his worst. But I’ve never seen a Jack who was so happy, possessed of such confidence in a decision he’d made, as I saw him that day at brunch. And that’s when I knew this relationship was really special.

From there, many of you know the story. You watched it play out on ESPN and social media and the front pages of every single gossip magazine on the supermarket shelves. But if you’re sitting here with us tonight, you also watched it play out between Jack and Eric themselves. You’ve watched them handle expectations as a united front. You’ve watched their unfailing dedication to each other while they navigate the pressure of being some pretty big firsts. You know that, behind the scenes, these are two incredibly genuine people who bring out the best in each other and are dedicated to doing that every single day.

In the last four years, I’ve watched Eric become self-possessed and confident because he was given the space to do so. In the last six years, I’ve watched Jack grow from a kid with a chip on his shoulder and something to prove to a guy who finally believes that he deserves all the good things the world has given him and then some. If you take nothing else away from this speech, I want you to know this: I’m incredibly proud to call myself a friend to both of them.

Jack, Bits, you’re always gonna be my brothers, my best friends, and two of the finest damn men I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. I wish you both a long and happy marriage. Take care of each other, be good to each other, and never forget where you started—as a team.

So please join me in raising your glasses, everyone, and as they say at Samwell—penitus potes to Jack and Eric!

#shitty knight #jack zimmermann #eric bittle #zimbitswedding #omgcp #check please #this idea jumped into my head and refused to leave #shitty & jack & bitty friendship my beloved #my writing

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delimeful · 4 years ago

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let my mind reset (2)

happy holidays, i brought everyone's favorite gift: high tension plot & tragic backstories!

warnings: imprisonment, mentions of death/mass murder/genocide, involuntary drug use, antagonist original character, panic attack, flashbacks, mild injury, taser

Roman wasn’t sure how long he’d been stuck in the holding cell.

His first idea had been to mark the cycles on one wall, to gather his bearings by the sky’s map, but there were no window ports, no view of the universe outside at all. Not even the greatest Crav’n navigator could’ve worked without a single star to go off.

He knew he was on a vessel, at least. Unlike his crewmates, Roman was more than familiar with the difference between artigrav and genuine gravity. They didn’t really understand it when he attempted to describe the sensation, but then, they didn’t seem to get headaches from low-quality antigrav systems, either.

Gods above, his crew. He hoped they were safe, hoped that at least that Human was good for something and would keep them from venturing onto the same moon that Roman had been so underhandedly abducted from.

No, with any luck, they wouldn’t be able to get involved. The way he’d been abducted-- drugged and dragged off-- it reeked of black market smuggling. Whatever they’d nabbed him for, it was probably his species they cared about, not his crew. He tried not to think too hard about what that meant for him, but...

There wasn’t much to do but think, in a cell like this. He had enough space to take three strides, from one wall of bars to the next, and no more. Nutrient gel packs were dropped through the slot of the back wall with alarming irregularity. The neighboring cells were empty, and everything was alway eerily, lifelessly silent.

Roman wasn’t sure how long he’d been stuck in the holding cell, but it was long enough that by the time he heard a distant cacophony, he was instantly alert, scales prickling in anticipation.

The noises grew closer and closer, and a piercing, glowing alarm lit the connecting corridor moments before the door to the cell block was being slammed into. Roman backed up, trying to figure out what sort of internal invasion he’d gotten caught up in.

On the third blow, the door crumpled inward like cheap plating, and an undeniably Human figure stood in the empty frame, panting. Familiar eyes immediately locked onto his cell.

“Virgil?” Roman squawked in alarm. He took a daring step toward the bars, barely believing what his own mind was perceiving. Was this another dream?

“Roman! You’re alive.” Virgil’s shoulders slumped dismissively, as though he wasn’t the one who had apparently boarded an enemy ship to find him. Despite all the questions he had, Roman felt immediately and irrevocably offended.

“No need to look so disappointed,” he growled, making the Human’s face scrunch up unpleasantly.

“What? No-- Never mind. We can chat when you’re out of there.” Virgil hurried down the hall to his cell, gripping the lockbox as though he could pull it apart. “Where’s the key?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Roman hissed, attempting to glance over his shoulder to the open hall the Human had come from. It was empty, for the moment. “I haven’t even seen another person in this place, let alone the vital instrument to my escape!”

Virgil pulled back, freakish eyes strangely wide. “Seriously? You’ve been alone this whole time?”

There was something oddly strained about his voice, but Roman didn’t exactly have the luxury of attempting to interpret whatever the Human was implying at the moment. He felt his tail thumping the floor anxiously. “Can we please focus?”

“Right.” Virgil shook his head sharply, releasing his deathgrip on the lockbox. “Right, uh, maybe I can li-- ghk.”

Abruptly, the deathworlder seemed to freeze up, jaw clenched, limbs rigid, chest still. To Roman’s horror, he spotted a trickle of red spill from the corner of his lips. “Virgil!”

As though the spell had been broken, the Human staggered, and then fell forward, knocking clumsily into the bars and gripping them for support as his breathing started up again, twice as ragged as before. The overhead alarm went utterly quiet.

Now that Virgil had half-collapsed, Roman could see past him, to the door frame.

There was another Human standing there at the threshold.

They were tall, with pallid skin and rust-colored hair cropped shorter than Virgil’s, wearing well-fitted clothes, and with a finger on the trigger of a black, boxy weapon that Roman couldn’t identify. Thin, barely-visible wires connected it to Virgil. Virgil, who had taken four paralyzers at once and managed to keep fighting, but was barely stirring after one hit from this.

He opened his mouth to speak, not knowing what would come out, and his eyes caught on the emblem sewn onto the Human’s outfit.

He knew it.

It felt like his every scale was on end, unfiltered terror coursing through him.

“Found it,” the Human said, completely composed. Their free hand was raised up to an ear, pressing against the communicator there. “Ended up at the Crowned’s block instead of an exit. Should I take it to the reinforced cells?”

There was a pause as whoever was on the other end replied, and the Human glanced to Roman with nothing but ice in their gaze. “And the Crowned? … Of course. Right away.”

Clicking the comm off, they stepped forwards and yanked the wires free, ignoring the way Roman flinched. They poked at Virgil’s leg with the tip of their shoe, and then easily hauled their fellow Human to his feet. Virgil’s eyes went wide at the sight of them, but only for a moment. He immediately bared his teeth, gripped the other right back and dug his fingers in. “Let go.”

“Vicious, are we?” They muttered, unconcerned. “You can’t win, so don’t even try. I’ll be nice and warn you in advance: anything you do to me, I’ll double back onto your Crowned friend over there.”

At the gesture to Roman, Virgil went still, his hold loosening. There was something off about that, Roman thought, but his mind seemed to be working through a thick fog, everything hazy and slow. The unfamiliar Human only nodded, as though they’d confirmed something, and pulled open the cell next to Roman’s before half-shoving Virgil towards it. “In.”

Still unsteady, Virgil stumbled heavily as the door was swiftly shut and locked behind him. The Human turned away, hand already returned to their communicator.

“I need two reinforced cells prepared for our lady. Clean up whatever’s left in them.”

They stepped past the shattered door, out of the room, and were gone. Roman felt his frozen posture thaw slightly, but there was no sense of relief. His pulse continued to race.

A cell over, Virgil leaned heavily against the bars, a sheen of sweat across his skin.

“That rescue attempt,” he said, voice rough, “went less than good.”

Ire rose in Roman hot and fast, like boiling water. It was as good a distraction as any. He turned to Virgil sharply, arms spread aggressively. “What were you thinking?”

“What?” Virgil asked, going still with surprise.

“You shouldn’t have come here. We’re both trapped here now.” He grabbed his own arm tightly, claws digging in. “This isn’t some low-grade smuggling ring you can slaughter your way out of!”

“Roman, I--,” Hurt, and then frustration flashed across Virgil’s face. “Come on, I came to help you--!”

“Oh, what a joke.” Roman snarled, his breath coming faster. “Help me? All you’ve done is gotten us both stuck in an even tighter trap.”

“I wasn’t trying to--”

“Oh, yes, I’ll believe that, coming from a Human,” Roman scoffed, ears flattening back aggressively. His head pounded in rhythm with the painful buzz of the artigrav.

Virgil stood up a little stiffer, eyebrows drawing in. Roman felt an odd vindication. The Human had certainly never made this harsh expression around Patton. “Me being Human doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Roman’s laugh caught oddly in his throat, coming out bitter and shattered. “It has everything to do with this. You think it’s a coincidence that this is the first Human that we’ve run into since you? That they abducted me for no reason?”

Virgil stared at him, glancing at the open doorway the other Human had vanished through. “You know this place.” It wasn’t a question.

“I know these Humans,” Roman corrected sharply, trying to keep the chill from his bones as reality set in. It was harder, now that the heat of his anger was fading out.

“How?” Virgil asked, apparently doing his best to stoke those dying embers. He glanced at the door to his cell, assessing. “If you know something that could help--”

“Nothing can help us!” Roman snapped, breaths harsh and gasping. The walls were drawing closer, pressing down on him. “These Humans took everything from me! Everyone I ever knew, gone in a single night! I’m the only one left!”

There was no sudden ringing silence, no perceptible shift in the universe now that he’d admitted the truth. There was just him, and the Human, still in cells, still doomed.

“I’ve lived-- all this time for-- for them, and Humans,” his lungs were beginning to ache, “Humans can’t even-- won’t let me do that right.”

Virgil moved closer to the bars, slow and uncertain. “Hey. Roman, hey, easy. Roman, you have to breathe. Breathe, okay?”

His voice was lower, softer. Coaxing, like he was luring a small animal out of hiding. It was like watching a Human pretending to be an ally, like watching a Human using the voices of other victims, like watching a Human turn and slaughter his tribe-- his friends-- his family.

The past and present seemed to overlap, an insignia burnt into the Human’s clothes where it hadn’t been before. Roman snarled at him, but the noise came out choked and small, like he was a kit again.

Virgil-- his mother’s murderer-- the Human was still talking, the words echoing and rolling over each other until the noise was indecipherable. There was an undertone of urgency to its voice as Roman backed further away-- pushed himself deeper into the hidden crevice-- hid away like a coward.

When he finally blacked out, it was almost a blessing.

---

When he woke, his cell was different.

It was narrower, and composed entirely of thick, interlacing bars, no solid back wall to lean on. No food slot, either. The space was lit from above, and in the cell next to his, he could see Virgil pacing like a caged animal. The rest of the room was too dark to make out.

The moment he shifted to sit up, the Human’s eyes were on him. “Roman!”

Roman steeled himself, but Virgil was oddly muted, and he stayed firmly on the side of his cell furthest away. Even that meager distance wasn’t far enough to keep Roman’s pulse steady-- or enough to hide the bruised swelling on one side of Virgil’s face. “What happened to you?” he asked, pressing a palm to his own headache. The non-Human one.

Virgil’s hand drifted up to the injury absently. “Made some trouble when they were moving us.”

Roman stared at the injury for a moment longer. If this was how brutal these Humans were to one of their own, he didn’t even want to think about how they’d treat him.

“I called their bluff,” Virgil continued, as though Logan had connected their minds. “Whoever they answer to explicitly instructed them not to let you get hurt.”

“Not yet, at least,” Roman replied darkly.

Virgil just nodded, face tight with stress. “Not yet. That gives us time.” He paused, working his jaw for a moment. “If... if they’ve been keeping you here for this long, maybe we could find other survivors—“

“They’re dead, Virgil,” Roman cut him off, voice flat and toneless. His anger had burned out. “The bodies— I was the only one left to perform the wake afterwards.”

Virgil went quiet. Roman felt his mind slipping back to thick smoke and burnt flesh, and shook himself harshly, one loud rattle of his scales to try and ground himself. “How long was I out?”

“Not long,” Virgil replied, and then paused before Roman could demand a less vague answer. He pressed a finger to his mouth. “Hang on. Footsteps.”

There were a few beats of silence, and then a door slid open with a pneumatic hiss. For a moment, the hallway beyond was enough to cast a dim light over the rest of the room. Roman could make out rows of these narrow, empty cells, enough to hold more Humans than he ever wanted to see again.

It was the same Human from before, and Roman was surprised to find that their lip was split, though perhaps he shouldn’t have been. It was vindicating to see that Virgil had given as good as he’d gotten.

Any semblance of calm fled Roman’s body as the Human walked into the circle of light shining down over their cells, right up to the meager barrier between them. Human limbs were thin enough to reach through the bars, and the thought was enough to make him shift back, flaring up aggressively with every threat display he had.

“Don’t worry, your highness,” the Human said, their eyes rolling strangely in their skull. “I’m not here for you, not this time.”

Almost against his will, Roman’s gaze flickered to Virgil, who was standing stock-still in the middle of his cell, chest rising and falling only fractionally. The Human popped open the cell casually, and then waved when Virgil didn’t move.

“Come on, come on,” they chided, “you have a doctor's appointment to keep.”

Like the words were an igniting spark, Virgil took two running steps forward and launched himself at them.

It was barely a fight. The Human didn’t even hesitate, smoothly catching Virgil by the upper arms and twisting until he went down with a cry of pain Roman had never heard from him before. Even half-pinned to the floor, he continued to writhe and twist, a guttural hiss escaping him.

“Relax,” they ordered impatiently, shaking him once, “they know how to properly sedate here. Anesthetic and everything. You won’t feel a thing.”

Contrary to their attempt, Virgil’s struggles doubled in intensity, thrashing with a strength that seemed to surpass anything he’d displayed in front of Roman or the others before. “No! No!”

The Human swore offhandedly, grabbing something from a pocket. “Damn. Thought that would work, with reports on how you came in.”

In one simple movement, they wrapped their hand around Virgil’s neck, and waited as his struggles became heavy and leaden.

They were killing him, a tiny, panicked voice in Roman’s mind screamed.

He didn’t realize he had crossed the short length of his cell until he was already gripping the bars, rattling against them. “Stop! Let him go!”

The Human glanced up, eyebrows raising slightly. When they lifted their hand, the distinctive white square of a tranq patch was left behind, pressed firmly into the skin.

Not dead. Roman felt a shocking amount of relief, his scales drooping with the force of it. He just… didn’t want to see another person murdered by a Human, that was all.

The Human slung Virgil over a shoulder, recapturing his attention.

Right. Not dead. Just drugged into unconsciousness, about to be dragged off to who-knew-what.

“Wait!” Roman reached out, barely able to fit his wrist past the bars. There was white noise rising in his ears. “Look, it’s me you want, right? To-- To finish what you started, tie up the loose ends. That Human doesn’t have anything to do with this. So don’t do anything-- he’s not involved.”

“Oh, now that’s funny.” The Human laughed, the sound caustic, and leaned in. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, your highness. It doesn’t matter if he’s involved or not. Out here, the only thing a rogue Human needs to do to be targeted is exist.” They paused, mock-thoughtful. “Kind of like you, actually.”

Roman felt his entire being prickle with white-hot fury, a low growl rumbling in his chest. To say that his people deserved to be slaughtered for just existing… Human cruelty really knew no bounds.

“Speaking of,” the Human continued languidly, “I'll be back soon to show you to your own appointment.”

Roman felt his insides turn to ice.

“The boss has finally called for you.”

#sanders sides #wibar #lmmr #let my mind reset #ts virgil #ts roman #original character #writing #my writing #im not exactly happy with how this chapter turned out so im going to say please donnt be too rough on it #also the original character is not a side just 2 be clear #this chapter is a little heavy take care of yourselves #but also remember things get better! promise

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tennessoui · 3 years ago

Note

The divorced fic was so cute i want to scream. Does Obi have any time to be sad or are Anakin and his little demons always there to distract him from his infinite sadness

so i know most everyone wants to know what anakin does about The Kiss but here's a bit of light hearted angst a year before that (because humanity is inherently whatever but i am inherently evil)

aka

the immediate aftermath of the Router Incident (1.4k)

The night of the day of what will come to be known as The Router Incident starts off with a bang.

Obi-Wan gets home a bit later than normal. Not because his work drags on longer than usual, but because he is, on the subject of all things even passably related to his personal life, a coward.

It’s been at least ten hours since he left the house with the goddamn wifi router tucked under his arm because Anakin had said something about finding a new place.

As if this isn’t the twenty-first century. As if Anakin doesn’t have a phone with unlimited data. As if Anakin isn’t the sort of person to walk five miles to the nearest coffeeshop with his kids in their stroller, just to use their wifi to email Obi-Wan a series of italicized question marks.

Obi-Wan’s been practicing his apology ever since he got that email. I’m really sorry, I promise I’m not a controlling megalomaniac. I just panicked because I’m not that good at letting go of things. You’d think I’d have learned by now, but apparently I only know how to dig my heels in whenever I think people are starting to pull away. Apologies again, life is not a game of tug-of-war, and I promise I do know that.

He practices his apology, of course, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t also try to put it off until the last possible moment. When he leaves the building, his car is the only one still in the lot.

I’m really sorry. Here’s the router back. I support your decision. Your kids will be great. I know you probably won’t let them see me, because that’s a bit weird if we don’t all live together, and you also don’t use social media, which is great because I also don’t use social media, but I would have made a Facebook account just to keep up with your family. It’s meant more than I can say to have something to come home to this past year, and I understand that you can’t put your life on hold for a lonely old man like me, and I will endeavor from now on to not impede your search for a new place to live.

No, too needy, he thinks at a red light, dragging his hand over his beard in defeat. He won’t beg Anakin to stay.

He would very much like to beg Anakin to stay, but he hadn’t even begged Satine to stay, and he had been in love with her.

He just enjoys Anakin’s company. His presence. Unwinding next to Anakin after a difficult day teaching is one of the things he looks forward to the most.

And this past holiday season, they’d had a big dinner at his house, filled to the brim with Anakin’s friends and his friends and some people from the local grocery store they’d met when out shopping together, and it had been so loud and so amazing. Nothing had been left untouched, there had been food on the ceiling (Obi-Wan suspects Leia to this day, but Luke had confessed), there had been leftovers for days.

You can’t just give me holidays like that and then take them away, Obi-Wan thinks angrily as he turns into his neighborhood. What will I do next winter, then?

He has to sit in his car for a second after parking, just to calm down. He’s the one in the wrong, he reminds himself. Anakin has all the right in the world to want to leave. It was never Obi-Wan’s family to begin with.

It was never Obi-Wan’s family to begin with.

When he opens the door, he’s met with the sound of children screaming and crying.

Luke rushes at him and jumps on him with enough force that he reels backwards, almost out of the house. He drops his bag on the floor in order to steady the child.

Luke is bawling his head off right next to Obi-Wan’s ear so it’s very, very difficult to hear what a red-faced Anakin is trying to say.

And then Leia runs up to him, tugs at his free hand until he looks down at her, and then stomps her little foot with a scowl. “I hate you!” she declares just as loudly as Luke is crying, before her tiny face breaks into tears and she runs off.

“Oh, for the love of--” Anakin shouts, throwing his hands up in the air and chasing after his daughter.

Obi-Wan, ridiculously hurt beyond measure and without a clue about what’s happening, goes to sit down on the couch, still gently cradling Luke’s body to his as the boy continues to weep.

“Hush,” he says soothingly. “And, ah. Please tell me what’s gotten into the Skywalkers now.”

Luke only sniffles and rubs his snotty nose all over Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

Well. It’s laundry day tomorrow anyway.

“Daddy says you hate us,” Luke mumbles, just as Anakin comes back into the living room, notably sans Leia.

Obi-Wan feels his mouth fall open in shock. “Daddy says what?” he asks, very slowly, making dangerous eye contact with Anakin over the top of Luke’s blond head.

Anakin flushes an even darker shade of red and looks around the room, as if that’ll save him.

“Daddy says we gotta go because this is your house and we don’t wanna stay over our, um. Welcome. We can’t reproach on your space, which means you hate us.”

“Encroach,” Anakin corrects, which Obi-Wan does not think is the thing that really needs to be corrected. When he tries to communicate this with his eyes, Anakin gulps and says quite quickly, “I’m gonna go check on Leia actually.”

Coward.

“Luke,” Obi-Wan says gently. “Your daddy is just being very, very dumb, a trait I pray with all my heart skips a generation.”

Luke blinks at him, his little eyebrows furrowed and his button nose bright red from all of his crying.

“I don’t hate you at all,” Obi-Wan says. “I love both you and your sister very much.”

“Then why do we gotta leave?” Luke complains. “I don’t want to go, we could never play Space Pirates and Lava Dragons at the old place, it was way too small.”

Obi-Wan thinks privately that his house, while certainly big enough, is by no means the proper size for how rambunctious the twins get when they’re playing Space Pirates and Lava Dragons.

“Well,” Obi-Wan hums consideringly. “I don’t want you to leave either.”

“You don’t?” Luke asks, eyes wide and hopeful.

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “I really don’t. But it’s not my decision to make, Luke.”

“It’s Daddy’s,” Luke concludes, head hanging low. “And Daddy wants to go.”

Obi-Wan ignores the way that sentence drives what feels like a knife straight through his heart. “Yes, well,” he coughs. “Your daddy won’t do anything he knows you and your sister really don’t want.”

Luke looks contemplative. Obi-Wan wonders if he should feel really bad or downright awful for manipulating a child in this way. But needs must.

“And he won’t listen to me,” he continues gently, smoothing down the front ends of the boy’s soft hair. “Because your daddy can be very stubborn when he thinks he’s doing something right.”

“He’ll listen to me and Leia though?” Luke asks, head cocked and eyes bright.

Obi-Wan nods very seriously. “I think he would if you both asked very nicely and thought about a lot of good reasons why you should stay here.”

“I can think of loads! And Leia can think of a ton more probably!” Luke exclaims with renewed energy, launching himself off of Obi-Wan’s lap and up the stairs, ostensibly to their shared bedroom.

Obi-Wan leans back against the couch, equal parts amused, exhausted, and hurt. He’ll need to have a serious talk with Anakin soon. He’d thought the man knew that his home was his as well. Yes, Anakin still paid rent, an unfortunate but necessary sort of system, but they’ve never been normal roommates. And Anakin isn’t a guest who could overstay his welcome.

He’s. Well.

Obi-Wan doesn’t know exactly what Anakin is to him, but he had hoped it was obvious to Anakin at least that Obi-Wan would not ever grow tired of his presence in his life.

So they do have some things to talk about.

But hopefully this means that Obi-Wan won’t actually have to apologize for the router incident, seeing as Anakin’s fuck-up caused much larger waves.

#you want me to think my five year olds know how to create an APA styled bibliography #Obi-Wan???#asks #the kids put together a powerpoint of Reasons They Have To Stay #some of it is obviously written by the kids #other bullet points are things like about school zones and bus routes and neighborhood safety #even if obi-wan refuses to admit he helped them with it #anakin side eyes him the entire time #ESPECIALLY when theres a bibliography as the last slide #and obi-wan is just fake proud #wiping away a tear #'i guess all those games of professor and student really paid off'#KUWSK

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goldentournesol · 4 years ago

Text

The Receptionist and the Profiler (Epilogue)

Chapter Eight: Epilogue

(Spencer Reid x f!Reader)

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

A/N: Welcome to the final chapter of the series. this is just a summary of what Spencer and Reader’s life is like in the future. thank you so much for joining me on this journey. I’ve enjoyed it so much more than I thought I would. So without further ado, enjoy.

Working for the FBI made for a pretty wild life. Even though Y/N wasn’t an agent, her life had been caught up with work just like all the other agents’. It also didn’t help that her boyfriend was endangered practically every minute of every day. It was hard, but Spencer and Y/N made it work. Among the darkness, they created light for each other. Spencer was no longer dreading coming home to a quiet life of reading and rereading his favorite books. He had a partner, he had a lover, someone to depend on. She was there for him as he grieved the loss of his friend and coworker deeply and she was there when he struggled with his excruciating migraines. They walked through life together, facing the challenges head on.

Emily’s death had taken a toll on the both of them, but they were nothing short of relieved when they found out that she was alive and well. Many changes took place after that.

JJ had worked long and hard to turn into a profiler, the liaison had years upon years of experience before switching jobs which meant Hotch had to find a new communications liaison, but he didn’t have to look far at all. He had offered Y/N the job without a second thought. A lot of her job as receptionist covered a liaison’s job. She would often get numerous calls a day from nosy reporters and she’d have to shut them down. However, with the added responsibilities, she’d had to take classes and had undergone copious amounts of training with JJ and Hotch, but she found that she flourished in this new job, despite the hardships that came with it.

This meant that she had her own office now. Whenever Spencer wasn’t at his desk, he was in her office, and whenever she wasn’t in her office, she was at his desk. She often found that she missed her old job as receptionist, but nothing could replace the newfound feeling of making a difference in the world. She used to admire JJ’s ability to stand before nosy reporters and judgmental cops, and here she was, blowing herself (and the team) away with these hidden abilities.

Before, she was aware of the general gist of the job, she knew it wasn’t easy, but the team often kept the gory details to themselves around her. Now, she had to pick and choose the gore which constantly left her with the question of whether she’d made the right choice or not. The intensity of the job had slightly damaged her spirits, but thankfully she had an amazing support system. She couldn’t have done it without Spencer’s unending support, or Hotch’s for that matter. Before allowing Y/N to accept the job, Hotch had made sure to warn her about the horrors first. She assured him she was ready, even though sometimes she felt like she wasn’t.

On the somewhat bright side, this also meant that she was around during most, if not all cases. This had Spencer jumping for joy, but it also terrified him to his bones. All his emotions were always on overdrive when it came to her. He was glad that he didn’t have to spend so much time away from her, but it simultaneously meant that he was constantly worried for her safety. He never wanted her to go into the field, ever. No matter the amount of combat training she did with Morgan. She found that she preferred interviewing victims’ families and controlling the press to facing serial killers head on anyway.

Sometimes it was easier for her to control the press from Quantico, so it wasn’t uncommon for her to stay back during cases. One particular case had dragged on for much longer than any of them had expected. The whole team was gone in Wisconsin and Hotch had asked her to stay back and hold down the fort at Quantico. The team ended up staying there for two weeks. It was the longest she’d ever been away from Spencer. Nightly calls weren’t enough for them and Spencer truly hadn’t experienced such an emptiness without her before.

As he scooped her into his awaiting arms right outside the elevator when they finally made it back to the office, he breathlessly declared to her, “Marry me.”

She pulled back from the tight embrace to examine his features, “What?” She said, voice thick with confusion.

“I don’t want to be away from you for that long ever again. I don’t want to wait anymore. Marry. Me.” He enunciated firmly. She broke out into a grin.

“Okay, I will.” She laughed and he squeezed her once more, savoring her warmth.

“This isn’t the official proposal by the way, you deserve something far nicer than all this, but I just want you to know that I’m ready if you are.” Spencer clarified and she threw her head back with laughter. Spencer’s heart soared at the sound.

Spencer took that statement and ran with it. He teased her every chance he got. At one dinner date they had planned, he had the nerve to begin his sentence with her full name, her heart dropping to her gut.

“Y/N Y/L/N, would you do me the honor of...sharing this fine wine with me?” Spencer said smugly, resulting in a shocked, but somehow relieved scoff coming from her.

A different time, he decided to give her a false alarm during one of their daily lunch walks in the park nearest to Quantico. He knelt down to one of his knees in the middle of their promenade.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you...wait for me while I tie my shoe?” Spencer asked with a face-splitting grin. This time, she didn’t hesitate to shove his shoulder slightly, causing him to lose balance and almost faceplant into the pavement.

At this point, she truly had no idea when he was going to pop the big question. Knowing him, it could literally be at any point in time. She had to admit, though, he kept her on her toes. A month later, she was sure he’d pop the question during JJ’s wedding reception because of the way he was staring at her all night. He’d looked dreamy in his tux to say the least. Y/N was almost too shy to dance with him because of how magnificent he looked. What she didn’t know was that he was thinking the same exact thing about her. She looked exquisite in the evening gown she adorned and Spencer was absolutely enraptured by her.

Being so surrounded by love and admiration, Spencer finally asked her to marry him the second they made it through her front door. They stood in the small hallway between the kitchen and the living room. She had just turned around from taking her heels off and was met with Spencer down on one knee, holding the most beautiful ring out to her in a navy blue velvet box.

“I had this elaborate speech planned, Y/N, I really did. I was going to talk about the stars, about the first conversation we had when I told you about the origins of yogurt, about how stupid we were for not realizing our love for each other earlier, but I realized that none of that matters right now. All I know is that this feels right, you make everything feel right. Will you marry me?” Spencer asked, his face incapable of hiding even a sliver of the adoration he felt for her.

“Yes, I’ll marry you in every lifetime and every universe.” She said, tears falling freely from her eyes. He sprang to his feet and wrapped her up in a long awaited embrace. He felt her body shake with wet laughter against his. He placed the ring on her finger and quickly kissed her passionately. Their giddy giggles flew through and around them.

Spencer knew she didn’t want a long engagement. Her previous engagement was hard enough of the both of them. Their jobs were just so demanding, it was hard to set a date and keep from pushing it back. Their wedding planner was beyond frustrated with them, but what can they do? They’re literally out there saving lives. And before they knew it, two years had passed them by and they were due to be married in two months.

But, alas, Spencer Reid seemed to have a knack for getting shot by unsubs right before weddings. While they were investigating a difficult case in Texas, Spencer was shot in the neck. Y/N was at the police station when she’d heard. She wasn’t sure who took her to the hospital to see him, everything was a blur since she got the call. She was plagued by the fear of losing him.

She’d overheard Alex Blake and JJ discuss how he’d always wanted children when she arrived at the hospital. In the back of her mind, she screamed that she’d give him all the kids he wanted, if the universe just let them breathe.

All too quickly, she was a sobbing mess in JJ’s arms. He’d gotten hurt before, he’d been in danger before, but she’d never been as close to it as she was then, it terrified her. Garcia had arrived and guided her to Spencer’s room. In another flash of events, there was a loud bang and Y/N had barely registered that a gun was shot inside the room.

The ringing of her ears subsided just enough to hear Spencer tell Garcia, “You saved my life, do you hear me?”

That was the second time his life was endangered in the span of two hours. Y/N looked her fiancé square in the face.

“I don’t want to wait anymore. As soon as you’re up and well, we’re getting married.”

Exactly one week later, they’d rushed through whatever they could rush through. Thankfully her dress was ready and altered, the cake was made to order, but sadly, they’d given up their gorgeous, gorgeous venue. Rossi was more than happy to offer up his backyard and the couple found it more than fitting to commemorate their love in the very location where Spencer had first confessed his feelings to her and where she’d returned them later.

Life truly came full circle as Spencer stood in the same exact spot where he’d confessed his undying love for her the very first time. Spencer did everything he could to keep from sobbing like a child as he saw the owner of his heart stand before him, just like she did that day, but this time adorning her white dress.

Being the romantic sap that he was, he recounted almost every milestone in perfect detail during his vows. Through the unrelenting tears, of course. Y/N’s words came out wobbly and wet, but she managed to get her vows out. There really was not a single dry eye in the small, intimate crowd. The entire team had watched them fall in love oh-so-gracelessly over the years.

Their ceremony was beautiful. It was different than JJ’s had been, it was more special to the two of them. Spencer was in nothing short of awe as he watched his wife sway with Henry wrapped up in her embrace on the dance floor. Henry’s little arms and legs were wound tightly around her, the bottoms of his shoes surely smearing dirt all over the back of her dress, but she didn’t care. Not when Spencer was looking at her like that. His throat clogged itself up as she caught his eye and smiled sweetly. The same thing was on both their minds, it was like an unspoken agreement had been made through some kind of special, invisible bond between them.

He couldn’t wait to have a family with that woman.

And they’d wasted absolutely no time. Three months after the wedding, Y/N announced that she was carrying a baby Reid. Tears and cheers erupted for them all. They had found the perfect little house with the help of Morgan. It was perfect for their growing family.

Pregnancy wasn’t easy on Y/N at all. Flying all around the country and helping catch serial killers was not an activity that pregnant Y/N wanted to engage in. The team had been more than forgiving as they dealt with her mood swings and crazy cravings. It also turns out that soon-to-be mama Y/N was especially helpful in chewing out unsubs in the interrogation room, but as useful as she proved to be, she couldn’t wait to pop the little peanut out.

Spencer and the team were rushing off the jet to the hospital as they’d heard Y/N had gone into labor. Spencer had only missed the very beginning and was by her side the entire time after that.

They welcomed baby Emelia Reid into this world on a chilly September night. Spencer was over the moon, he was borderline obsessed with looking at the baby and keeping a hand on her at all times whenever she was in the room with them.

He waited for his mother to fly out a few days later just to meet baby Emelia. He wept as he watched his mother kiss the top of his baby girl’s head. No other feeling could ever compete with the one he experienced at that moment in time.

Emelia had grown into such a radiant little girl. She was a miniature hurricane of chocolatey brown curls and rosy red cheeks. She’d already blown her parents away as her intelligence only seemed to increase with time. The similarities she had to her father were astonishing. She was a daddy’s girl through and through, but Y/N didn’t seem to mind sharing him. Not when the sight of them together instantly melted her heart every single time.

Diana tried to be as active in the baby’s life as she could possibly be, however her condition began to worsen over time. Eventually, Diana had had to move in with Y/N, Spencer, and Emelia. Thankfully, their house was large enough, but taking care of a toddler and Diana while being 6 months pregnant was inarguably too much to handle for Y/N. She’d found out that she was pregnant again, and they were expecting another baby girl. Y/N had also taken time off from work to focus on the dilemmas at home.

The at-home nurse was doing the best she could since Spencer was always either at work or off finding Diana some kind of new treatment. He’d told Y/N that he’d been going to Mexico to get her some special medication and so she didn’t mind as long as she’d been kept in the loop of where and how he was. Spencer Reid never kept anything from his wife. They were always transparent with each other. Y/N was glad that he’d told her about his trips down to Mexico, or else she’d be out of her mind looking for him.

But suddenly, during one trip, he’d stopped answering her calls. Complete silence on his end. It had driven her absolutely mad. It was only until JJ visited her the next morning informing her that Spencer had been arrested in Mexico for the illegal possession of drugs and possibly murder. If JJ hadn’t been around to catch Y/N before passing out, she or the baby would have been in extreme danger.

But Spencer Reid never kept anything from his wife. She’d been adamant that she would have known if he was struggling with drugs again. The last time she’d seen Spencer was during the trial. He’d looked so terrified as they pronounced him guilty and shoved him away from her. From his family. He’d spared Y/N one last broken glance, his gaze drifting down to her swollen belly. Their second child was on the way and he won’t be there to meet them. He mouthed a heartfelt apology before they took him away. Y/N wept and wept until everyone but the team left the courtroom.

“How am I gonna do this, Pen? How am I gonna do this without him?” She spoke between breathy sobs. The baby, Emelia, Diana. She couldn’t do it on her own. It would break her.

“You won’t be alone, Y/N. We’re all going to help you.” Penelope reassured her, but the only thing that was capable of reassuring her was currently in handcuffs behind closed doors.

She’d had to keep Spencer’s whereabouts from Diana and Emelia. She’d told him that he was consulting a case somewhere in California, where he also had access to the beach. Up until that lie wasn’t viable enough. Emelia’s questions about her daddy absolutely tore through what remained of her heart.

Diana’s caretaker had apparently quit and a new one came by. Y/N thought something was off, but she pushed that thought aside as she worried over her husband and the baby that they were due to meet any day now. Two months had passed and Spencer was still incarcerated, he hadn’t allowed Y/N or Emelia anywhere near the prison, but she’d broken down at the possibility of him being locked away for 25 years.

She’d visited him once, right after the birth of their second baby. They’d had another beautiful baby girl, whose name had been decided long ago by the two parents. Baby Adaline. The delivery was immensely difficult without him, but she pushed through. Y/N had almost begged Emily to pull any, any strings she could to get them to meet since Spencer said he’d only agree to see them if he could ensure their privacy and safety. They’d managed to get them in with Spencer’s lawyer, Fiona. Y/N cooed to Adaline as she cradled her in her arms, wrapped in her little blanket. The cooing served as a distraction as she waited anxiously for Spencer to meet them in the small little room.

Suddenly the doors emitted a loud buzzing noise, prompting a loud cry from Adaline. A sound that was strange to echo off the walls of this place. Y/N shushed her gently until she caught sight of her husband walking through the door. Tears gathered in her eyes as she took in his disheveled state. His eyes found hers and quickly flitted to the squirming bundle of joy in her arms. Spencer’s lip wobbled as he entered the room. Y/N shifted Adaline to rest upon her shoulder as she wrapped one arm tightly around Spencer. No touching was allowed, but the guards pretended to look the other way, courtesy of whatever strings Emily had pulled.

The three of them bawled against each other in an unceremonious reunion. Spencer at last pulled away from his wife and stared at the baby in the bundle. He hesitated to carry her. His hands were clean, but they still felt so dirty. How could his hands hold this beautiful gift of life while they’d been committing such heinous acts within these very walls? But one utterance from his wife made that all vanish.

“It’s okay, Spence.” She smiled slightly, angling Adaline towards him.

He gazed at Y/N closely, as if checking to see if she was sure. Y/N carefully handed her over to him and he instantly turned into less of a shell of himself and had begun to resemble the man that Y/N could recognize. He cooed to her softly, kissing her face repeatedly. Adaline instantly quieted down at her father’s touch.

The small interaction had fueled the pair for weeks. Spencer found a source of hope and was determined to see through to the other side. He would not rot away in his cell forever. The team continued to try and crack the case from the outside. Y/N was instructed to be more careful than ever. She often brought Emelie and Adaline to work with her. She had not been flying out with the team, preferring to stay close to her girls until Spencer was back.

On one of the days Y/N brought her girls to work, she’d found out that Diana had been missing. Her caretaker was accompanying her to visit Spencer in prison and then neither of them had been seen afterwards. They quickly identified the caretaker as Lindsey Vaughn. If Y/N had been on the case with them ten years ago, she would have identified her, but she was just another face to her. Y/N was livid, Vaughn had been around her children, she’d been inside her home. If Spencer didn’t get to catch the bitch, they better believe Y/N will.

Spencer was released quickly after the BAU proved his innocence. He was on his way to the office now. Y/N had been peering into Adaline’s carriage when she’d heard the high pitched voice of Emelia.

“Daddy!” Emelia exclaimed, racing across the bullpen to jump into her father’s arms.

“Hi baby. Daddy missed you so much.” Spencer said, hiding his tears in his daughter's hair. He held her tightly to his chest as he crossed the bullpen and made it to Y/N’s office. He put Emelia down gently and scooped his wife into his arms.

“You’re back.” She said softly through tears.

He hooked his chin over her shoulder and sniffled strongly. He might not be the same man he was before, but he still loved her unconditionally. He still loved all three of them unconditionally.

“I’m here.” He repeated the phrase out loud like a mantra.

And he was here, but he also wasn’t. His wife could tell that the man who stood before her had endured hell, but when he cradled their baby girl so tightly to his chest, it was hard to imagine him as anything other than a loving, gentle father, and a compassionate partner. She knew she’d hold onto that thought forever. Once they retrieved Diana, they knew they could face anything.

As long as they were together.

And they knew they would be, for as long as the universe would allow in this life, and then the one after that.

~THE END~

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inmyarmswrappedin · 3 years ago

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Ages ago, I asked people to send me scenes they wanted me to compared across the Skams, and then I kinda ignored it. This wasn't intentional, but rather because I wanted to do the scenes in chronological order. And the one I got for s1 was the Eva/Jonas breakup scene.

The issue is that Jonas is a very misunderstood character in international fandom. I felt like I couldn't begin to compare the scenes without getting into the fundamental conflict between Eva and Jonas, and I couldn't do that without getting into why Jonas hates Russetide, and I couldn't do that without a long post that was going to swallow up whole the other 7 versions of the scene.

I've never really let go of the idea of doing those comparisons, even though the anons that sent the original asks are probably long gone. I thought of a bunch of different ways to approach the asks, but nothing worked for me. Until recently, where I just decided to first explain Russetide, then compare the different Skam opening speeches, and THEN I will finally compare the breakup scenes.

But instead of explaining Russetide itself, which I think most Skam fans more or less understand, I'm going to explain SJEIKEN 2015. This song perfectly encapsulates what Jonas hates about Russetide. In fact, he quotes it in one of the scenes where he's being a dick to Eva!

Russetide is a tradition in all of Norway, but western Oslo (where Skam is set) is one of the richest areas in the country and, as such, they really go above and beyond with it. A bus is better than a van, the buses have to be decked out with the best sound systems. The crew has to have not just hoodies but also headbands and other merch, and it all has to follow the theme the crew has chosen. And if you really are the hottest of hot shit, then you actually commission legit artists to write a theme song for your bus. We can see this in s2, where the girls discuss The Penetrators theme song.

There are a bunch of different Norwegian artists that you can commission for your Russe song, but the most famous are probably TIX and the Pøssy Project. The Pøssy Project is a group of multiple songwriters, but all of its members have chosen to keep their identites anonymous because, as it turns out, ~Norwegian adults~ think everything I'm about to explain is trashy and disdainful. The one artist in The Pøssy Project that has always owned his participation in it is Andreas Haukeland, better known as TIX. (You might also know him as this year's ESC entry for Norway.) Why does TIX stand by these songs? Idk, probably because they're extremely popular, chart well, and make money, and by standing by them, he gets to perform them in gigs and profit off those creations.

SJEIKEN 2015 has featured twice in Skam, first in s1e1. It's also the song Pepsi Max is singing when they party at Sana's place in s4. And SJEIKEN 2015 featured so prominently in Skam because the song became a runaway hit the year before (the 2014-15 school year), breaking into the Norwegian charts as well as Spotify most playeds in Norway. It is a tremendously popular song that people loved.

So, who or what is SJEIKEN 2015 about? SJEIKEN is a 2015 Russe crew (meaning they graduated high school in 2015) who chose to make their Russe theme about... oil sheikhs. That is what sjeiken means. The song itself is about an oil sheikh called Sheikh Yer Bouti who declares tonight to be free of rules. His 400 wives are allowed to get drunk and be whores, just for tonight. Here are the lyrics:

Now, TIX has recently tried to become a mature artist, and so he was recently asked about SJEIKEN 2015 (again, a song he performs to this day). This was his response:

At a party, I met a girl who was crying over a boy she liked. She had built up her expectations that this would be the night she finally hooked up with him, but she was afraid that if she did, the guys would call her "whore". I thought about it a bit… It's actually quite true - if a boy hooks 10 girls at a party he is a legend, but if a girl hooks up with only one boy she may risk being called loose. That's absolutely ridiculous! So I said to her, "Tonight you are allowed to be a whore. Tonight you are allowed to hook up with him.”

And like, I just want to say this response is horseshit, first of all lol. But in case you for some reason thought this was supposed to be like a feminist anthem for a girls' russe buss (a crew like Los Losers for instance), let me share a picture of the SJEIKEN Russe crew:

(Count the moc... Oh wait, there aren't any.)

SJEIKEN (the Russe crew) also participated at a Russe event back in 2015. Here is how they chose to stage their song:

(The one thing I can say about this is that the boy playing a niqabi doesn't appear to have taken it off at any point, which is better than Skam Italia did.)

At this point, you might think that perhaps Jonas might have reason to be appalled that Eva, who he assumed shared his values, decided to get involved in Russefeiring. However, one other thing about Russefeiring is that literally EVERY YOUNG PERSON in Norway is supposed to love all of this shit. My evidence is very anecdotal, but I once asked a Norwegian high school student how many people aren't involved in Russefeiring. He said everyone is, the only people who aren't are the friendless losers. I also came across a Norwegian young woman's blog who said she preferred talking to people from abroad, because she didn't have to explain to them that she never actually did Russe, because to admit she hadn't, would immediately show her to have been a total outcast in high school. Like, this is an issue for people into their twenties.

So Jonas isn't just taking a stance to be cool, the fact that he is vocally opposed to Russefeiring in every way makes him (and the boy squad) total losers. In fact, Chris Schistad referred to Jonas as a nerd and the boy squad plainly wasn't in William's radar at all. It wasn't a thing like in Skam NL, where Kes' squad was leagues and miles above Noah's squad in terms of coolness (MOTHERfucker... don't even try to tell me Gijs was cooler than Kes lmao). Jonas would've been seen as a loser and a burnout, and that's what Jonas was talking about when he told Eva that she was always doing the popular thing to do. Because he very staunchly refused to participate in this tradition, despite the fact that doing so made him an outcast, because, for him, THAT was the moral thing to do.

Having read all this (you poor soul), and being on tumblr like you are, is it really that unthinkable that Jonas would think that Russefeiring and the culture associated with it is crap? Do you really think a 16-year old has the nuance to say, "you know, Russefeiring stands for everything I hate, but since you're friendless because of me, and this is your chance at having friends, I will put my ideals aside and support you in this." Absolutely not lmao. How many of you would even now shit on friends if they stepped outside the line of what tumblr considers woke? How many people on twitter turn on each other for transgressions like stanning the wrong Skams? Jonas was shitty because he was super rigid in what he considered the right way to behave, but in that sense, he was actually one of the most accurate portrayals of a specific type of Gen Z. Unlike idk, characters who quote fucking Animal Farm to talk about school festivals.

(And NOW that all of that has been established, I can finally begin dissecting season 1 lol.)

#skam #brain vomit #scene comparison posts

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akitokihojo · 3 years ago

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Monster - Chapter 6

chapter index

Inuyasha walked carefully, the sun beginning its descent through the sky. He’d taken off from the spot of the attack quickly, but after so long, he couldn’t bring himself to keep the same pace. Not only was he physically drained, but the poor girl draped over his back wasn’t fairing too well. They’d had to stop three times so she could vomit. Kagome would apologize profusely afterward, crying, and Inuyasha felt absolutely awful.

Just in case, he’d asked if she’d eaten anything that had upset her stomach in the time since she left his side. She said no. He asked if she was sick before issuing her attack. She said no. He figured as much, but he had to be sure.

She trembled the majority of the way, doing her best to hang on as tightly as she could in the beginning, but now that he merely strolled, mindful of each step, Kagome sort of just slumped against him. She seemed to have calmed considerably, her burning cheek resting on his shoulder, fingers gently grasping him, and legs swaying with each stride. She wasn’t asleep; he could tell. She was still aware, she just didn’t have the energy left to keep her head up. And, who could blame her?

Thankfully, as of right now, he didn’t sense a single demon from before. They hadn’t followed. Yet, at least. That didn’t mean there wasn’t a chance it would happen, but the two of them would be hidden when and if they caught up to them.

He could finally see the little town he’d been heading toward up ahead. It wasn’t very lively. Never had been. It was quaint and sort of homey, but every person that lived there was wise to understand how not to attract attention their way. More importantly, they knew how to handle the attention that did stir up. It was why he frequented the place when he needed to lay low. The inn, the inn keeper, provided a safe space.

“Hey,” Inuyasha spoke softly, shifting his head to watch Kagome slowly raise her own to look at him. “Can you walk?”

“Mhm.” She hummed, voice raspier than ever thanks to the stomach acid that had charred her throat.

Inuyasha kneeled down, allowing her to dismount him. He was quick to stand and face her, holding her arm in case she got dizzy and lost her balance. She was still so pale, the sclera of her eyes pink, and the flesh of her lips muted in shade.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” Her tone held no conviction. Again, he couldn’t blame her. She obviously wasn’t fine, but he took her statement to mean she wasn’t currently feeling too nauseous to handle.

“My friend is in the town up ahead, alright? She’s gonna help us, and you’re gonna be safe there. We have to bring as little attention our way while we walk through, though. Think you can handle pulling it together for ten minutes?”

Kagome nodded, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She appreciated his firm hold on her. The wooziness was kicking her ass, and each time she’d thrown up, she gradually felt weaker and weaker. Standing was hard enough, and walking was going to be a feat, but she could surely do it. Inuyasha saved her, kept her safe, so if he was asking her for a little help to insure things stayed mellow, she would pull through without a second thought.

“Need to get anything out of your system before we go.”

“Please don’t make me think about it.” Kagome groaned, cringing as her stomach churned.

“Sorry.” Inuyasha grimaced, holding his arm out for her. “Hang onto me, okay? I’ll get us there as quickly as possible.”

Kagome slid her hand around the underside of the hanyou’s forearm, taking the support he offered. There was a huge part of her that wished she could say she could walk on her own, but who would she be kidding? He knew as well as she did that she needed all the help she could get.

His muscles were firm, embracing the meager weight she leaned onto him. Still, Kagome made sure to stand up as straight as possible, swallowing any nausea remaining while she used her other hand to lightly smack her cheeks to bring a little life back into her face.

The walk through wasn’t difficult, and Inuyasha was proud of Kagome for appearing well and alight. Her head swiveled from side-to-side as she took in the sights of the town, the “cute” architecture as she put it, and even the cobblestone that she mentioned her village only had in certain areas; not all over like it was here. He could tell she wanted to move slowly, more out of how her legs wobbled than out of desire, but he found it particularly important that they get to the inn quickly, so he intentionally kept up a decent pace that he knew she could handle. Kagome didn’t complain. She didn’t grumble or whine. Though her body was protesting, she pushed herself to keep going.

“No talking.” He ordered just outside the door. He could hear the life from down the road, and though he knew it had to be coming from the tavern in the entrance, he still hoped it wasn’t. Not always was it rambunctious, but more often than not, the first level of the inn was spirited and loud. Kagome nodded, agreeing without question, and Inuyasha opened the door, guiding her inside.

The hanyou flexed his arm closer to his body, keeping Kagome near as he sauntered over to the edge of the bar counter. Most of the business was on the far side, not crowding the entryway, and the inn keeper seemed her usual level of unamused as she poured another drink. Catching the scent of a familiar demon, Inuyasha’s golden gaze landed on glowing, blue eyes, peeking over at him from his glass of ale. His long, brown hair was held in its usual, high ponytail, and as he set his cup down, watching him from the very corner of the angled counter, and arching a thick brow, Inuyasha spoke with just the steady shake of his head. Please, for the love of fucking god, not right now.

He felt a squeeze on his forearm, fingertips pressing into his skin, and Inuyasha glanced down at the woman by his side. He could see a thin sheen of sweat on her cheeks, her eyes cast downward, and her chest was rising as she took deep, controlled breaths. Fuck. She was feeling sick again, and this was her way of politely letting him know without speaking.

“Kaede.” He called. The young lady at the far end glanced over her left shoulder, and it was as if the moment she realized it was him her brows pinched together in conjecture. Her long, straight, dark brown hair was tied loosely in a low ponytail, strays falling free and framing her jawline, and as she turned away from the loud, drinking men to walk over, she revealed the patch that had sat over her right eye since well before he’d ever met her.

Kagome tried not to appear intrigued. This woman Inuyasha called to, Kaede, bore an incredible resemblance to Kikyo. It was astonishing how similar they looked, and if it weren’t for some obvious discrepancies, Kagome was concerned she wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. Kaede had a little more color to her skin, and wore her hair in a different style. It was a bit shorter, lighter in shade, and she was either missing her right eye or no longer had the use of it. A mere coincidence was all it was; it had just caught her off guard. Given that, her focus wavered incredibly, the dizziness fogging her head making it difficult for her to put any more thought into the inconsequential matter.

“Well, well,” She began as soon as she was close enough, her attention bouncing carefully between Inuyasha and the girl on his arm. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah, yeah. No lip, Kaede.” Inuyasha groaned. He’d expected this. It was Kaede’s personal hobby to give him shit.

“Usually, you space out your visits better, Inuyasha. It’s been, what, two weeks this time around?”

“Look,” He leaned in closer, hearing Kagome’s thick swallow. “We need a room. With room service.”

Kaede understood the code he spoke, not reacting to keep suspicion at bay. She took one more glance at the girl on his arm, noticing her pasty skin that shined with dew. She kept a level gaze, one with a calm expression to accompany it, and Kaede could only tell something was definitely wrong with close studying. It was the way her fingers bit into the half demon’s arm, and the way her irises lacked glimmer. It was the way the hanyou allowed her to touch him, allowed her to be so close, and even so much as stroked the tops of her fingers soothingly. Nothing needed to be said more to express the urgency of the situation, and the code was taken to heart quickly.

She bent down, grabbing her guest book as per usual, moving as quickly as nonchalance would allow. This was customary, and Inuyasha was well aware. Still, he cleared his throat to push her faster and Kaede looked up at him to notice the steadfast stare he was giving. This was much more serious than she thought. She knew exactly which room she was going to put them in; it was one of the few designated for this specific scenario, so she pretended to look at the book for one more moment, scribbling down a quick, illegible note before shutting it, putting it in its rightful spot, and heading to the back for the key.

“Totosai, you’re up!” She shouted as she walked back out to the front, hearing the old man give a grunt of acknowledgement.

“What!? Kaede, baby, where you going?” One of the drunken men whined, pouting from the opposite side of the counter.

“Oh, hush. Totosai will be keeping you company for a while. I’ve got guests to tend to.”

“But, he doesn’t have tits!”

“Neither do I!” She laughed, gesturing to the small chest beneath her bodice. Her long skirt twirled slightly as she spun around to walk in Inuyasha’s direction, hastening her pace.

Kaede lifted the counter door to come out to the front of the bar, notching her head to the side for Inuyasha and his female companion to follow. They all kept quiet as they walked through the back doorway, down the hall, and up two flights of stairs, but from behind, she could hear Inuyasha whispering. Taking a little peek, Kaede saw the girl covering her mouth, seeming unsteady, nodding as Inuyasha spoke softly to her.

Inuyasha had grabbed Kagome’s hand as soon as he noticed she was struggling to keep her composure, allowing her to squeeze, the arm she once held onto reaching behind her back to support her around her waist. “Just a little further, okay? You’re almost there.”

“What the hell did you do this time?” Kaede ridiculed as she reached their designated room, sliding her key into the bolt.

“Open the door!” Inuyasha demanded, and Kaede threw it open, allowing them to rush inside.

Kagome was only able to make it to the small trashcan in the bathroom entry, crumbling to her hands and knees as her stomach twisted painfully to rid itself of the nothing it contained. Her throat burned horribly from the bile, and her chest and abdominal muscles ached from the heaving. Inuyasha never left her side, quick to scoop her hair out of the way.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She whimpered through her bodies unmanageable retching.

“It’s fine, you know it’s fine. You can’t control this.” He replied, taking the small break in her vomiting to pull her bow, arrows, and bag off of her shoulders, freeing the space of her back to rub as she coughed, shuddered, and wheezed. He muttered the rest of his reply. “Fuck, it’s gotta hurt by now.”

After shutting the door behind her, Kaede followed the two into the bathroom, her heart aching for the discomfort the girl on the floor was currently in. She was careful in her approach, grabbing a washcloth off the shelf and kneeling on the opposite side of her as Inuyasha.

“Sweetie, what happened to you?” She asked, but the girl heaved and couldn’t answer. Kaede’s hand flew to her low back instinctually, matching Inuyasha’s rhythm and rubbing gently. She redirected her question to Inuyasha. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“I’ll be one-hundred percent honest with you: I don’t exactly know, myself.” He admitted. It seemed Kagome was finally done puking, so he pulled the trash bin from beneath her so she wouldn’t have to look at it and released her hair, allowing it to sit along her back, shorter strands falling over the fronts of her shoulders with gravity. Kaede handed Kagome the washcloth, and she took it gratefully, wiping her mouth but remaining folded forward. She was so weak, her quaking muscles felt throughout her entire body, and Inuyasha couldn’t quite bring himself to take his hand off her upper back just yet. She’d thrown up five times, and the violent convulsing her body had been doing was ostensibly painful.

“Give me something to work with.”

“Alright,” Inuyasha sighed. Kagome wasn’t going to like this. In preparation, he applied some firm pressure on her back where his hand now braced against her, his other hand grasping her wrist to keep her glued to the floor. “She’s a conjurer.”

Kagome gasped, her attention snapping his way, and he was glad he’d pinned her the way she sat because he felt her arm jerk like she was about to hit him out of reflex. He was quick to speak, to calm her down, saying, “Kagome, I had to! Nothing’s going to happen! I swear!”

“Sweetie, it’s okay! It’s okay!” Kaede jumped in, now wary of how she touched the jittery girl before her. “You’re safe here.”

Kagome’s brown eyes landed on her, her plush, bottom lip quivering as her bloodshot eyes watered. The world was ugly, and Kaede could tell, much like everyone else nowadays, that this girl wasn’t spared from a damn thing. She felt the fear that she wasn’t born with, but was forced to learn in order to survive. It was crippling. It was debilitating. How could Kagome expect to trust a living soul when they didn’t understand the life she lived or the spirit she harbored? Kaede knew all of this from personal experience.

“Listen to me, I’m an ally. No one outside of this room will find out who or what you are, I can guarantee that. I know the importance. I used to have a conjurer in my family.” Kaede said, making sure her message was coming across clearly. She may not know what it was to be a conjurer, but she knew the details involved. She grew up with it all.

Kagome studied her, still trembling but gradually calming. “You did?” She finally asked, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah.”

She said used to. Kagome’s heart twinged thinking of who could have been taken from her. Not even she was pardoned from the harsh reality that they faced. She couldn’t bring herself to say something aloud, though. She couldn’t imagine it was an easy topic to talk about, and as much as she wanted to express her sorrow that Kaede had lost someone she may have been close to, she just couldn’t right now.

Inuyasha’s grip eased off of her, his hand releasing her wrist. As soon as she was free, Kagome turned and swatted his stomach with the back of her hand, making him wince.

“A warning next time!”

“You would have just said no!” Inuyasha argued.

“I would have had every right to!”

“I’m trying to help, you idiot!”

“With proper warning, at least I wouldn’t have been caught off guard! I might have agreed if you had just taken a moment to explain things to me!”

“Go back to throwing up! You were surprisingly less annoying!”

“Oh, look at that! Your maturity level is showing again!”

“Shut up, dumbass!”

“Great comeback, genius!”

“Uh - hello?” Kaede chimed, interrupting their yelling match. As soon as Kagome’s head whipped her way to take notice, it seemed some dizziness caught her, her eyes shutting as she swayed slightly, and a small groan coming from her throat. Both she and Inuyasha reached to stabilize her, and it was easy to tell Kagome’s nausea was biting. Whatever energy she had remaining should not be spent arguing with this half demon nitwit.

“Hah! You can’t even fight back without getting sick.” Inuyasha teased, his arrogant expression falling as soon as Kagome shot a glare his way. He reached for the trashcan just in case, but Kagome shook her head, saying that she wasn’t going to throw up.

“Look, Inuyasha did the right thing by bringing you here.” Kaede spoke, taking away any opportunity from Inuyasha to instigate anything more with Kagome. “I’ve saved his ass many, many times.”

“Excuse you. You make it easy for me to lay low. I wouldn’t necessarily call that saving my ass.” He objected.

“The only reason you ever need to lay low is because you’ve pissed someone off and given them cause to hunt you down. The justifications don’t matter; the facts stand. For every action, there’s a reaction. And, that’s where I come in. You stay here so they won’t detect you while you’re vulnerable. Therefore, I’ve saved your ass.”

“You’re looking too deep, but whatever makes you feel better.” He huffed.

“You know what would make me feel better right now?”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes dramatically, grinding his jaw to the side and releasing a slow, grumbly exhale. He knew damn well Kaede was only going to tell him to stop talking, so he threw in the towel. She was good at winning arguments, and he wasn’t in the fucking mood for it. He leaned his back against the wall, letting Kaede’s attention fall back on Kagome.

“As I was saying, I know a thing or two about enchantments. I’m no expert, and if I’m being honest, my speciality lies in plants and their potentially-magical properties, but I get by enough for this inn, specifically, to be known as a resting point for those who need to take it easy. Not well known, of course. Couldn’t have that. But, known enough for some of the damned to wander through. Outside, there’s a deterrent. It sort of pushes all scents away and throughout town where it’ll dwindle, so if anyone is tracing you that way, they’ll lose it. I’ve also got a few, exclusive rooms, this one included, that have specially created flower bundles in the closets that mask the smell of the occupants. They’re not potent, so they neither harm the sensitive noses of dog demons, nor attract attention by standing out. They simply mask. Took forever to figure out the proper assortment, but I eventually got it.” Kaede shrugged humbly, hoping all these tidbits would help Kagome feel more secure.

“How did you learn all that?” Kagome inquired softly, pushing herself back to lean against the wall of the bathtub. Inuyasha bent forward as she did so, pulling her things out of her way to clear the spot for her.

“Well, I admired my sister for being a conjurer.” Kaede began to explain, smiling fondly. “She found out who she was in a time when it wasn’t kill or be killed, and she took every opportunity to learn what she could do from whomever could teach her. I followed her everywhere; it didn’t matter how much it annoyed her. I wished so badly to be like her, but of course that wasn’t possible. So, we found something else for me. Something I could teach myself along the way so long as I was disciplined and dedicated, and to be anything near resemblance of my sister you had to be. It’s not new age or modern practices either; I reached for the ancient texts that taught me things that seem to have been lost in translation over the centuries. That’s what helps me get away with it. It’s old magic, so it’s harder to figure out when you’re in the presence of it.”

Kagome gifted a faint smile toward Kaede. Truthfully, it was all extremely enthralling, and Kagome wanted to know more. She just couldn’t concentrate all too well at the moment. Asking for more details required a level of energy she didn’t currently obtain, and if she ever heard the expansion of Kaede’s background, she wanted to be perfectly cognizant. More importantly, she didn’t want to invalidate the message the woman was putting across. She was describing why Kagome was secure to let her guard down, she was being straight forward in letting her know that Inuyasha didn’t let her secret slip to the wrong party. He had reason, and he didn’t betray her. He’d brought Kagome to the safest place he knew of, and Kagome wasn’t unaware of how far he’d gone and traveled to bring them here. Shifting her head to the side, she transferred her grin to Inuyasha in a silent thank you. His head rested against the wall, his eyes hardly open and unfocused on her.

“So, you’re a conjurer.” Kaede mentioned, bringing the issue back to the forefront. “That doesn’t really tell me what happened.”

She waited patiently for either of her guests to speak, and Inuyasha’s eyes blinked fully opened, an arm perched on his raised knee.

“Again, it’s kind of hard to say. Everything happened so fucking fast. One minute I was being ambushed, the next I wasn’t. Kagome showed up and cleared the field.”

“Cleared the field?” Kaede asked, reaching for clarification.

“Yeah. She cleared the field. Not a single bandit left in sight.”

“What do you mean? How?”

“With an arrow.” He said.

“A-as in, one?” She switched her attention to Kagome. “Sweetie, you only used one arrow?”

“Mhm.” She hummed unenthusiastically. Kagome was so exhausted, so drained, that reactions were far from her reach. She could barely manage a nod at that point, her eyes half-lidded as she looked at the woman across from her. Within, she felt slightly bashful and still a little uneasy about talking about everything. She reassured herself that it was okay, though. She was safe. Kaede and Inuyasha were allies.

“I’m sorry, I’m having a little trouble wrapping my head around this. How many men were there?” Kaede asked, the look of shock written all over her face.

“Fuck if I know.” Inuyasha answered with a shrug of his brows. “A shit ton, and that wasn’t even all of them. A second wave was hiding within the trees.”

“Against one person!? What the hell did you do!?”

“Killed their leaders. They were rapists.” He stated simply.

“Oh. Fuck them then.” Kaede waved off, unsurprised and heading right back toward their main topic. “With one arrow, though? How did you do it?”

“I just did it.” Kagome replied.

“That’s - that’s incredible.” Kaede nearly laughed out of astonishment. “That’s so strong - you’re so strong. I’ve never seen that done. How long have you been able to do something like this, if you don’t mind my asking? This is just so fascinating to me.”

“Um -“ Kagome wasn’t quite sure how to answer that. She didn’t really know what she’d done to conjure that much power in the first place, so it felt weird merely taking credit for it even though it came from no one else but herself. The truth was all she could give, and as anticlimactic as it was, there was nothing more to it. “Since this afternoon.”

“Oh.” Kaede blinked, a little confused. “You’ve never done that before?”

Kagome hummed a no, adding a minor shake to her head.

“I’m sorry if this seems like an interrogation now, but um…” Kaede’s amazement waned as she digested what Kagome had just admitted. An entire series of new questions were coursing through her head now, empowering her need to gain a better understanding of Kagome’s power, what had taken place, and the reason for her current state. Truthfully, she was pretty sure she’d figured out the mystery already. She just wanted to be absolutely certain before saying it out loud. “You knew you were a conjurer before this, right?”

“Yeah. I’ve known since I was a little girl.”

“Okay, and I’m assuming you’re a practicing conjurer?”

“Yeah.” Kagome confirmed.

“What was your biggest move? By that I mean, how much power have you ever exerted at one time?”

Kagome was a little perplexed by that one, unsure how to answer. Was she looking for a percentage? Because, Kagome had no clue. She glanced over at Inuyasha, hopeful that he would be able to simplify the question, but he seemed to be waiting for her response just as much as the woman opposite her. “Like, how many demons have I exterminated at one time?”

“Sure.” Kaede complied, bobbing her head. “What’s the most you’ve taken out with one strike?”

“Three or four.” Kagome said. “Though, it wasn’t in the same manner as today. I didn’t just sweep my power through; I sort of skewered them.”

“Were they big?”

“I mean, in size, sure. They were long. They weren’t very strong, though. Most demons I’ve encountered and practiced on were incompetent. Not humanoid by any means. They were the mindless killing machines that flocked in pairs and liked to eat whatever they could encounter. Really gross-looking. Not too hard to take out. My cousin could kill some with just his hands and staff, if that helps paint a picture at all.”

“Not really giving yourself much credit, kid. Those fuckers are easy game.” Inuyasha said.

“I’m being honest. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve taken down larger demons, but they were alone. One at a time. I mean, even before I got back to you today, I took out three guys, but again, it was one at a time. That’s easy for me. I figured, the more I kill at one time, the more power I’m using, right? So, that’s my answer.”

“Wait, wait. You faced three demons before clearing the field!? Who?”

“No,” Kaede interrupted, holding her hand up toward Inuyasha so he’d stop talking. “That’s not important right now. Sweetie, did you just say killing larger demons was easy for you?”

“Oh god, no. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it was easy, per se. I didn’t mean to sound so insensitive. Taking a life is never -“

“That’s not what she meant, dumbass.” Inuyasha interjected, rolling his amber eyes. “She was asking if it was an easy task. Like, does it make you break a sweat?”

“Oh. Well, no not really.” She said, her worry of offense fading away. She’d realized how what she’d said could be twisted to sound as if she were a heartless, killing machine of a conjurer, which would be painted dark, so she’d panicked that that was what Kaede had thought. The moment her concern was dispersed, she breathed out a sigh. “Not anymore, at least. I really utilized all of my time training on the lower-grade demons to figure out how much power is too much, how much is too little, so on and so forth. So, by the time I ended up incidentally facing my first - er - competent demon in a sense, I had an approximation of how much spiritual power I should need to eliminate them. I was wrong, of course. But, from that point on, I had a general idea of what to do and how to do it, so it got substantially easier. Why? Where are we going with this?”

“And, how much power was in that punch?” Inuyasha pressed.

“I don’t know what you’re looking for with that question.” Kagome huffed. “I can’t give you a percentage, because I apparently don’t know where one-hundred sits for me. I thought I was giving my all, but then today happened and Kaede’s been giving me that look for five minutes now.”

“It’s just - Kagome, has there ever been a time where you’ve been in a charged match and gotten exhausted or sick afterward?” Kaede inquired.

“Tired, yes. That’s kind of normal, though. It’s physical exertion. Sick, no. Never. Wait, are you linking the occurrences together?”

“Doesn’t it make sense?”

“I mean, I figured it was because I freaked out?” Kagome asked more than stated, completely uncertain of everything now.

“What?” Inuyasha’s expression twisted incredulously.

“Haven’t you ever been so nervous it made you feel nauseous?”

“No.”

“Well, lucky you. I have. I honestly thought it was the combination of the stress of being found out on top of all the horrible demonic energy in the air, and it made me sick.”

“Okay, that is a possibility. I won’t dismiss that.” Kaede said. “Or, it was because you pushed yourself way passed your normal limits and this is the backlash.”

Kagome looked at Kaede, waiting for further explanation. What did she mean by backlash?

“Think of it this way: Let’s say what you did to save Inuyasha was your one-hundred and what you’ve been doing averages between twenty and forty percent. You’ve never gone passed forty, but today, somehow, you jumped all the way to one-hundred. That’s more than just your typical, physical exertion. You completely depleted your body and took from backup sources you may have, as well. Keeping up?”

“I - I think so…”

“Any sort of power you have has to be maintained through exercise. Just like muscle and strength; it’s all in the same realm. You just need to practice what fits your needs best. You can’t just decide to get toned and go straight to lifting fifty-pounds. You have to work your way up. Start small and build stamina. If someone regularly lifts thirty pounds but then jumps for something significantly heavier, let’s say twice that, they run the risk of hurting themselves. Well, it’s unfortunately the same for those with supernatural abilities.”

“But, if someone tries to lift something out of their scale, they usually can’t. Like, those huge sacks of rice, for instance. It’s too heavy for me to carry. I can drag it, but lifting it onto my shoulders like my cousin is damn near impossible because I don’t have the muscle for it. So, how would someone go from thirty to sixty? In that same regard, how would I go from forty to one hundred?”

“If you’ve got enough endorphins running through you, you sometimes lose the ability to mind the boundaries your body sets. You don’t feel the limitations of pain and strain.” Inuyasha added.

“So, what happened, Kagome? What happened before you did it?” Kaede asked.

“I - I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.” She answered, her brown eyes drifting to the bathroom floor beneath her legs.

“How the hell do you not know?” Inuyasha ridiculed. “It’s your body, your power, so where’s the miscommunication?”

“I mean, I don’t know. I’m doing my best, Inuyasha.” Kagome snapped back, glaring at the hanyou, nearly matching his tone and scorning demeanor. “I didn’t have anyone to help me while growing up. I had zero resources to learn from. When we found out that I was a conjurer, my family chose to shelter me. I was too young to understand, and I wasn’t the type to rebel, so I minded my father’s requests to keep it a secret. He was the only link to knowledge about my powers that I had because he traveled, and personally, I thought I was thriving. It wasn’t until I was around ten or so that I realized he was merely teaching me how to control, conceal, and channel it into my arrows. Basic-level techniques. After he died, and especially after Naraku rose to power, I took it upon myself to figure out what I could do, but that meant my one and only resource was trial and error. I will openly admit that I don’t know everything I should know, but I am also trying. I don’t know what I did because I had never done it before. I heard you were being attacked and ran to make sure you were okay. I saw you were swarmed and didn’t have your big, fancy sword, and I can tell you the only thing going through my mind then was that I didn’t want them to kill you. I felt something unrecognizable inside of me, but there was no time to understand it. If I had stopped to figure out where the sensation was coming from, you could have died So, I just went with it.”

Inuyasha stared at her, a look of disbelief on his face. He’d wondered how she’d known about his predicament in the first place, but he hadn’t found the opportunity to ask. Still, it wasn’t the right time to get all the details he currently lacked and desperately wanted to understand. Kagome had really ran to him to help? She didn’t want him to die? He could tell her passion was from her irritation with him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dumbfounded by her admittance. That didn’t mean he wasn’t awestruck by the way she heatedly expressed herself in the moment, despite her paled skin, dark under eye circles, and noticeable enervation. Despite the way she held onto her stomach and frowned at him, the way her bangs clung to her forehead from the sweat soaking her flesh, there was still a fire behind her vibrant irises while she waited for him to reply with an argument. He had none, though. His lips sealed and his cheeks flushed, feeling the newfound heat of his own face as blood rushed through, and he brought his hand before his mouth, looking away from her ardent gaze.

“So,” Inuyasha spoke, his attention now on Kaede. “What happens if she does more?”

“What do you mean?”

“Saying her attack today was her one-hundred was merely hypothetical. Truthfully, I think she’s got more potential than that.”

“Oh, I agree. For all we know, that could have been her seventy percent.”

“Right. So, what happens if she does exhibit one-hundred percent before she’s fully capable of handling it? What sort of repercussions would she be looking at?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. My knowledge is limited, and I never saw my sister do anything as strong as what you said Kagome had done. She’ll probably get incredibly sick; much worse than she is now. And, it’ll take a while to come back from it. Might even physically hurt her. Again, these are all guesses, so none of my answers are definitive. Hopefully, we’ll never have to find out.” Kaede answered. She watched Kagome nod in acknowledgment, her eyes closing as she sighed out and slowly dropped her head back to lay against the rim of the bathtub. The way her eyebrows pinched together slightly spoke of her concentration to subdue the nausea she was battling, probably inwardly pleading with her body not to puke anymore.

She took that moment to crawl a little closer to the girl. Very gently, Kaede placed her hand against Kagome’s cheek, feeling the scorching heat of her skin. Her palm traveled to her forehead to confirm her fever, then the side of her bruised neck. The poor girl was burning up, gaze half-lidded as she blinked her eyes open.

“Alright, first things first, we need to get you cleaned up. I’ll run a bath, and -“

“No, I’m fine. It’s okay, I’ll be fine. Thank you.” Kagome didn’t want to trouble anyone anymore than she already had. She just needed to sleep this off. If her body needed recuperation, then a bath could wait.

“You’re slick with sweat and dirt, Kagome. You’ve been physically ill. Please, just trust me. I want to help.”

“You’re doing what she says.” Inuyasha instructed, pushing himself to a stand as he grabbed her things to remove them from the bathroom. “You look about ready to keel over, kid. Let her help you.”

How did she get here? How did all of this happen? Since the day she’d left home, Kagome felt like everything had gone so wrong. It was all so close together, one thing after the next. Was this really what was meant to happen, or had she taken a wrong turn somewhere down Murphy’s Law Lane? Kagome swallowed thickly, but this time it wasn’t bile she suppressed. It was the unmitigated density of failure. It was the urge to cry, to damn herself, to give into the pressure of everything that had occurred since Naraku’s henchmen visited her village. She wouldn’t be in this position if she were stronger, if she were remotely as experienced as Kikyo was.

How could she have avoided this? What could she have done differently to prevent this outcome? How could she improve? Was this nature’s course, or was Kagome a basket case? All of this applied weight to her shoulders, her stomach, and she again swallowed, pushing the thoughts as far away from the forefront of her mind as she possible could for the time being. There was nothing she could do about it at the moment, and the last thing she wanted, on top of everything else, was for the two people who tried to help her see her breakdown.

“Alright, Inuyasha. I’ve got it from here.” Kaede assured him, smiling gently as she got the water flowing.

“I’ll be right out here if you need anything.” He said, closing the bathroom door behind him.

Once the tub was full and ready to go, Kaede assisted Kagome in getting undressed, unwrapping her bandaged hand, and getting her in the bath. The silence was a little uncomfortable, but nothing else could be expected. There was no need to force conversation or make Kagome talk. As long as her eyes were open and she was expressing awareness as she washed up, it wasn’t necessary to press her further for more. So, Kaede gently washed her hair, wanting to do anything she could to help provide a small sense of comfort for her.

“Do you have a change of clothes, dear?”

“Yeah. In my bag.” Kagome nodded.

“Inuyasha took it with him. I’ll go grab something for you.” Kaede smiled, heading toward the door. “You stay in the bath. I’ll be right back.”

“What’s up? Need something?” Inuyasha asked as Kaede came out and headed straight for Kagome’s belongings.

She sort of hummed a reply, not much of an actual answer though as she shifted through, pulling out some clothes. “None of these look very comfortable. Does she not have pajamas?”

“Given her circumstances, I don’t think she planned for comfort. I’m thinking she was leaning more towards practicality.”

“Her circumstances?”

“She left home. Long story. Not mine to tell.”

“Gotcha. Well, she’s bedridden until further notice, so practicality is out the window. I’ll go grab her something of mine real fast. Can you listen out for her in case she needs anything. The door’s cracked, so you can hear better.”

“Mhm.” He grunted, pointing to the ears atop his head. Opened, closed, didn’t matter. He’d hear her. As Kaede left the room, Inuyasha propped his temple up with his fist, his elbow resting on the arm of the cushioned seat he took residence in in the corner of the bedroom.

If he was exhausted, he could only imagine the deteriorated stamina of the human in the other room. A conjurer. She was a fucking conjurer. Guess she really wasn’t joking when she said she could take him. If she could empty a large area full of enemies, he wondered what she could truly do. If Kagome was fully trained, confident, and as powerful as she was meant to become, what were her limitations - if any? He was colored impressed, intrigued, and also a little terrified. Not because of what she was. It was because of her strength, the head on her shoulders, and very clear level of determination.

He knew there was something more to her, he knew his gut hadn’t led him astray. It was never wrong, she was just good at keeping secrets. According to her, she’d had plenty of practice with this particular one. And, she’d only let it slip in order to save his life. She’d made that sacrifice despite her own potentially being on the line. Kagome was undeniably brave, and when he thought deeper into it, Inuyasha could see just how mentally strong the girl had to be. He wondered what made her head out on her own. Was she actually looking for somebody? If so, who? What sort of business was this conjurer up to? What had she been through?

Truthfully, that’s what scared him. The answers to those questions. From her, he expected nothing but some impactful response in the fewest words imaginable. He didn’t know a damn thing about her character other than her attitude, and yet he was still capable of saying that he’d never met anyone like her. It unsettled him. It made him uncomfortable to think highly of another. Especially in such a short amount of time. He wanted to continue on thinking she was just another weak human. He wanted to go forward believing she couldn’t take care of herself, that she was a magnet for trouble, that she was nothing short of sloppy, and stupid, and reckless, and while some of that may actually be true, an uncontrollable part of him attempted to dissuade those thoughts.

From his spot, the smallest sniffle reached his ears. It was trembling and hushed. It was broken, the shuddering inhale proceeding it grasping at his heart. And again, the question presented itself to Inuyasha. What had Kagome been through? What broke her right now? Was she hurting? Scared? For the first time in ages, Inuyasha felt sympathy for another. He wished whatever pressed her in this moment lifted. He didn’t want her to feel fear, he wanted her to believe them when they swore she was safe and protected. He didn’t want her to feel pain, because that’s all he’s seen sketched on her flesh since he’d met her. Inuyasha sincerely wanted Kagome to rest, to trust him, to feel comfortable, and to heal.

Kaede returned promptly, and Kagome cleared her tears, rinsing her face with the warm water she soaked in.

“What’s that?” She asked, noticing the garment that Kaede unfolded and set out.

“It didn’t look like you had anything comfortable to sleep in, so I went and got you a night gown of my own. Hopefully it fits you.” She smiled. “Come on, let’s get you dry.”

Grabbing a towel, she helped Kagome out of the tub, allowing her to dry herself off as she stabilized her. The gown draped down to her shins, the sleeves ending at her forearms, and the white complimenting her sweetly. She’d definitely sleep better in this than she would in a tight pair of pants. Kaede took to drying Kagome’s hair, really ringing it with the towel until she got the majority of the moisture out. The last thing they needed was for her wet hair to get cold and potentially worsen her fever.

“Thank you so much for this. All of this.” Kagome softly spoke, her lowered gaze communicating her bashfulness.

Kaede brushed the girl’s hair behind her ears, replying with a gentle grin before grabbing her hand to slowly guide her out of the bathroom and to the bed.

Inuyasha stood in case they needed help, having personally witnessed firsthand Kagome’s unsteadiness, but Kaede got the blankets pulled back and helped Kagome move on her own just fine.

“Alright, I’ll be back in a bit with some food and medicine. Inuyasha, you wash up next. You stink.” Kaede said.

“Dick.”

“Yeah, that’s it. That’s what you smell like. The musty kind that hasn’t been washed in -“

The hanyou groaned loudly to cut her off, shoving her head aside as he stomped past her and into the bathroom. Kaede laughed, turning back to make sure Kagome was comfortable before heading out of the room.

For the moment, it was quiet. Kagome could feel her body sinking into the bedding, but she was blisteringly hot beneath the layered blankets. As much as she wanted to let go of her grievances and close her eyes, ignore the burden of her fever and just go to sleep, her stomach twisted and bunched painfully, making it impossible to relax. As if she wasn’t uneasy enough as it was, her body seemed to have a goal to worsen the experience for her. Why was it that when she overextended herself, she got physically sick? What an abnormal reaction to have. Sure, if someone pushed themselves to run a faster mile, they could potentially throw up. But, have flu-like symptoms? Unheard of. Being a conjurer was weird. Supernatural powers were weird. Everything that was happening to her, all weird.

Taking her mind off of the sleep she so woefully wanted, Kagome raised her left palm to take note of the progress of her healing cut. It really wasn’t all that bad anymore. She was glad there were no signs of infection. It wasn’t very pretty, the edges of her nicked flesh harboring a bit of pink coloration, but it wasn’t bleeding or oozing anything, so that was definitely a good sign. She’d give it another two days before she didn’t need to bandage it up any longer. For the meantime, she should take the proper precautions to keep it improving.

She moved slowly, minding the weakness of her muscles as she sat up and uncovered herself, moving her legs to sit on the edge of the bed. Kagome stood to cross the room to get to her things, pretending the dizziness wasn’t there, pretending the room wasn’t wobbling from side-to-side in the slightest, taking one firm step at a time.

“Hey!” Came Inuyasha’s loud voice at the halfway mark, and Kagome froze, jolting slightly from how direct his shout was. She’d almost thought he was behind her for a moment, but after glancing around, she realized he was yelling from the bathroom.

“Inuyasha?” Kagome asked timidly.

“The fuck are you doing?”

“Huh?”

“What - the fuck - are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” She wasn’t even raising her voice to make sure he heard her through the walls. That sort of energy was out of her reach. She was indisputably confused, though. Why was he yelling at her? What was wrong?

“You’re out of bed. For what?”

How the hell did he know? Could he actually hear her with those ears of his? Were they that sharp? Or, was he just paying such close attention to any sounds of movement that he caught the pads of her feet hitting the wooden flooring? Or, both?

“I wanted my medical kit. I need to wrap my hand.” She responded with a little more tenacity in her tone.

“Is it bleeding?”

“No.”

“Then get your ass back in bed. It can wait.”

“But -“

“Lay down.”

“Inuyasha -“

“Lay down!”

Kagome groaned and she did it loudly, stomping her feet as she went back to the mattress and plopped her butt down. Was it childish? Absolutely. But, she hoped each noise she’d intentionally made hurt his stupid, dog-like ears. Woozy repercussions be damned.

She adjusted the pillows against the headboard so that she could comfortably prop herself up, sitting back against them and pulling the horribly hot blankets over her legs again. She was old enough to know that it was best to stay covered while you had a fever, but that never once stopped her from wanting to kick them off. With everything irritating her right now, her head beginning to throb, Kagome felt the aggravated pout form on her face. She’d never been the type to like to stay in bed and wait out an illness. Her brother could sleep for days and be perfectly comfortable, but she hated not being able to do basic things to take care of herself.

“God, you’re such a baby.” Inuyasha murmured, coming out of the bathroom moments later. He wore the same pants as before, but was shirtless, water dripping down the ends of his long, silver hair and over the skin of his chest. He used his towel to rub through his tresses, and thankfully his amber eyes were aimed at her things while he crossed the room so he wouldn’t notice the way Kagome glanced at him only to quickly redirect her gaze at the surprise of his half-naked appearance.

The fever was going to her head. Had to be. Her eyes seemed to have a mind of their own as they drifted over to his back as he passed her, taking notice of the swell of his defined muscles while he walked, crouched down at her bag and dug out the box she’d wanted. She appreciated the way little movements made him flex, the way his physique contoured when he stood, even the definition of the arm he used to dry his cleaned hair. It wasn’t until he turned back to her that she noticed the cut on his shoulder, deep and angry and swollen. Little bruises littered his flesh, small scrapes adorning his sides and the right half of his chest. He hadn’t left the battle unscathed - of course, he hadn’t - and she felt horrible for just now noticing.

“Your arm.”

“It’s fine. Give me a sec and I’ll bandage your hand.” He said absentmindedly, dropping the kit on the far edge of the bed as he sauntered back to the bathroom.

“But, doesn’t it hurt?”

“Not really.” He replied from the other room.

“Rotten liar.”

“I’m not lying. I can barely feel it.”

“Then let me look at it.”

“You just saw it.”

“No, I mean let me look at it.”

“Hang on.” He said, ringing his hair as dry as he could before pulling it back into an untidy ponytail. Inuyasha came back out and presented the cut to Kagome, sarcasm written all over his face as he gestured to it carelessly so she could see, and then reached over to grab the medical supplies to completely disregard his wound.

“Inuyasha, you know what I meant. Let me see it. Please.” Kagome tried, biting back the annoyance in her tone. With a huff from the half demon, he sat down beside her, allowing her to get a good look at the wound on his shoulder. While she had the chance, she jabbed her finger just above it, receiving the full reaction she’d expected as he jerked away with a pained groaned, snatching her hand with a vice grip. “Looks like that hurt.”

“Fucking duh!” He snapped.

“I knew you were lying.” Kagome giggled lethargically.

“You’re not supposed to touch it!”

“You should let me bandage it up.”

“That’s not necessary.” Inuyasha said with clenched teeth, tossing her hand away. “It’ll be gone by morning.”

“I know you have the ability to heal faster than humans do, but I still think this will last a solid couple of days. Everything else will be gone by morning, sure. But, this? Probably not.”

“That doesn’t mean it requires bandaging. It’s not even bleeding anymore.”

“It’s still prone to infection.”

Inuyasha scoffed.

“Want me to poke it again?”

“Do it and I’ll poke your stomach and talk about vomit.”

“You fight dirty.” Kagome grimaced, protecting her core. “Just let me -“

“No.”

“Please?”

“Why?”

“I want to help.”

“I don’t need any.”

“Looks like you do.”

“I don’t.”

“Please?”

“Oh my god, Kagome.”

“Please?” She knew she was aggravating him, and as good as she didn’t feel, it was hard to hide her grin. Every huff of irritation he gave, every scrunch of the skin between his brows from the way they furrowed together, and every roll of his eyes was amusing to her right now. He was reaching his limits, but he wasn’t going to snap. He was going to fold.

“Will it make you shut up?”

“Yes.”

“I really don’t need it.”

“Please?”

“Stop it.”

“Ple-“

“Jesus fuck, just shut up and do it already.”

Kagome beamed with a prideful smile, taking the kit from him and reaching for the cleaning solution and cotton balls. “Jeez, if you wanted me to bandage you up so bad, you should have just asked, Inuyasha.”

The hanyou slowly turned his head to look at her, an infuriated expression written into his straight-set lips and glazed, amber eyes.

“I’m kidding, I’m sorry. I’m shutting up.” She promised, laughing but also taking his warning to heart.

He didn’t say a thing while she cleaned his wound. She knew the solution stung only from the minor flinch in his muscles, but other than that, he stared at the ground, allowing her to work. Kagome didn’t expect nor need any form of gratitude from Inuyasha for dressing his wound; she’ll admit it was more for herself than him. It made her feel more comfortable knowing his chances of infection were slimmed down, and it also made her feel better contributing to anything she could in her debilitated state. Maybe he knew that was what she wanted which is how she could tell he was going to eventually let her bandage him up. Or, maybe she just genuinely annoyed him and he truly did want nothing more than to silence her. Either way, when he addressed her with a mere shrug of his brows as she finished, Kagome wasn’t offended.

She didn’t wait for him to take anything from her to wrap her hand. She could do it on her own, and she took to cleaning it out. Inuyasha remained beside her, watching her struggle a little with the bandages and anticipating a reason he’d need to interfere and take over. When she gave him none, the hanyou reached up, pushing her bangs aside to place his palm to her forehead.

“Fuck, you’re burning up.” He commented. “How’s your stomach?”

“Hurts. I’m queasy, but I don’t feel like I’m about to throw up.” She responded, putting everything back into her kit and shutting it.

“You should lay down.”

Kagome shook her head, slightly disgruntled. “Not comfortable. Don’t want to.”

“Alright, whatever. But, after Kaede comes back with medicine, I don’t want to hear it. You’re going to sleep.”

“Mhm.” Kagome agreed. It was fair, and she really did want that much. She was so unbelievably tired, her body just ached. The sooner she laid down, the sooner she was going to be completely covered by blankets, too. With only half of her body covered, it was sweltering enough. The last thing she wanted was to be buried within the heat right now. On the other hand, she was grateful she wasn’t battling chills on top of it all.

A knock on their door was the only warning that Kaede was entering before she opened it up, carrying a tray with two bowls and a couple containers on the side. The girl set the tray with all of its contents on the little table beside Kagome, handing a bowl to Inuyasha and waving him off.

“Rice and chicken for you.”

That had to be the happiest Kagome had ever seen the half demon, even as he was pushed aside and dismissed to eat his food across the room. He even gifted a “thanks,” before digging in to eat on the cushioned seat in the corner.

“Where’s your shirt?” Kaede asked speculatively.

“It’s torn and has blood all over it, so it’s soaking in water. As much as I trust your witchcraft bouquets, I don’t want to take chances of my blood attracting the wrong noses.”

“Fair enough. I’ll go buy you another from the shop in town tomorrow morning and add it to your tab. Pink would look nice on you.” She teased.

“Yeah, so would that dress you lent Kagome but I would only end up showing up all the women in town with my gorgeous looks, so make it black.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kaede rolled her eyes and smiled, her attention falling back to her task. “Alright, sweetie. You’re totally gonna hate this, but please just trust me, okay?”

“Uh oh. What are you about to make me take?” She grimaced, eyeing the little containers.

“One of these is for nausea. Tastes awful. The other is to break your fever. Tastes worse and will make you super drowsy pretty quickly. After the medicine, you’ve gotta eat, which I know is probably the last thing you want to do. It’s the only way to keep your strength up though, so you’ve gotta stomach as much as you can. It’s soup and it’s light, so hopefully it won’t upset your nausea too bad before the dose kicks in.”

“Great.” Kagome remarked sardonically, her lack of enthusiasm painfully obvious. Just the smell of food was causing a lump in her throat to swell, an unsettling feeling blooming, but she swallowed it to the best of her abilities.

Kaede opened the first container, a little bottle, pouring a thick liquid out onto a spoon. “Don’t spit it out, okay?”

“That bad?”

“Horrible.”

“I appreciate the warning.” Kagome cringed, mentally preparing as she welcomed the spoon into her mouth. The taste slid onto her tongue and it was a disgusting mixture of spice, what you would imagine manure to taste like, something metallic, and a hint of grape. It took so much, almost too much, willpower to swallow, a burning sensation gliding over her tongue and down her throat, and Kagome brought her knees to her chest as she fought back a whine, burying her face in the blankets that draped over her legs.

Inuyasha chuckled at what he’d seen of the girl’s ghastly expression before she’d dramatically hid it, but prior to anything funny or sarcastic he could say, Kagome shot her middle finger up in the air at him. It only made him laugh harder, snorting slightly, but he shut his mouth and refrained from teasing her. Lord knows it would only send her over the edge.

“Here. Water.” Kaede offered. “Just take a sip.”

And, Kagome did just that, hoping the liquid would wash her tongue of the horrid taste. It did not.

“Ready for the next?”

“You said this one is worse?”

“Sure did.” Kaede grinned apprehensively. She shut the nausea medicine and opened up the small container at its side. It was a fine, tan powder, and Kaede took a sheet of paper she’d folded in half, distributing a healthy amount within the crease. “You have to hold this one under your tongue until it completely dissolves. After, you’ll get the soup and forget all about this torture.”

“Until you have to do it again in the morning.” Inuyasha teased a little too happily.

“Shut up or I’ll make you take some.” Kaede reprimanded.

“Not on your life.”

“Try me.” There was something about the calm way she threatened him that actually made Inuyasha uncomfortable, and he heeded it, once again silencing himself as he shoved a spoonful of rice and chicken in his mouth. Kaede was completely human, petite in stature, and looked sweet as can be, but she had the attitude that helped her keep up with your average man. She’d grown up alone for the most part, never let her handicap of one eye slow her down or hold her back, built her business from the ground up, and Inuyasha respected that enough to know that she could put him in his place. She’d done it before. The girl was tough as nails and had to be in order to run the inn that she did, giving a place of refuge for those in need and defying Naraku and his henchmen. He may be physically stronger than she, but still, he’d prefer not to test her.

“Alright, Kagome. Open up.”

Kagome did as she was told, lifting her tongue and allowing Kaede to slide the powder beneath it with the thin, creased paper. At first, it wasn’t so bad. It sat beneath her taste buds, so the worst part was the bubbling of the powder as it mixed with her saliva. But then the saliva rose around the sides of her tongue to pool on top, and the taste hit her. Immediately, it tested her gag reflex, but she resisted, swallowing profusely as she, yet again, buried her face in the blankets on her knees. Kaede soothingly rubbed her back, coaxing her with hushes and apologies. It tasted worse than the bile she’d vomited. It tasted indescribable, and gingery, and pungent, and she wished, as each second passed, that it would just finish dissolving already. It brought tears to her eyes, her nose sniffling from the spiciness, but she waited, and waited, and fought back her nausea, and swallowed over and over and over until the powder was completely gone.

“Here you go, sweetie. Take a bite; it’ll help.” Kaede offered Kagome her food, pushing it closer to her on the tray so she could lean over and take a spoonful in her mouth.

Inuyasha wouldn’t deny that he felt sort of bad for Kagome after that one. As she sat up straight to come out of hiding, taking deep, concentrated breaths to calm herself down before slurping a little bit of soup, he saw some pink on her cheeks. He knew it was an inadvertent reaction to the medicine, but it was still nice to see color on her face again. He knew it would wash away momentarily, her pale features would return until the remedy kicked in, but it was still nice to catch a glimpse of the woman he’d seen just that morning.

“Better?” Kaede softly inquired after Kagome swallowed some soup. Her shoulders had sunken back down, her muscles unclenching, and she hoped the bowl of broth and vegetables was enough to quell the awful taste Kagome had had to endure.

She nodded, swallowing thickly. She was grateful, so grateful, for the flavorful and hot liquid that rinsed away the medicine, but that didn’t mean her stomach was very accommodating to it. With just the few things she’d swallowed, the organ churned and clenched painfully, threatening her to push it all back up her esophagus, so Kagome knew the last thing she could do if she was going to keep the medicine down was eat too quickly. She decidedly set the spoon down to give her body time to steady.

It wasn’t the first Kaede had noticed the markings around Kagome’s neck. She wasn’t blind or daft; she’d seen it the moment she saw the girl standing beside Inuyasha at the counter. Gently, she hooked her finger beneath Kagome’s chin, tilting her head back so she could get a better look at the handprint that encircled the front of her throat.

“Is this from today?”

Kagome’s brown eyes didn’t hold against her own, shying away though she didn’t pull her chin out of her meager grip. In answer, she shook her head.

She didn’t want to talk about it. Not again. Please, not again. Not right now. In no way, shape, or form was she in any mental condition to think about the little conjurer who’d died so violently. She didn’t have the capacity to handle hearing the mother’s screams echoing through her head, to revisit the day she’d watched the light fade from those innocent, blue eyes. Kagome was already battling with herself and how she felt like an absolute failure, and the last thing she wanted was to have each letter tattoo’d into her skin as she recalled how she failed to protect the young girl.

Kaede reached down, holding and examining Kagome’s bandaged hand, remembering the small wound she’d gotten a brief look at along her palm.

“What happened to you, Kagome?”

“Kaede.” Inuyasha’s voice was low but firm. It was both an instruction and warning. He was protecting Kagome, and Kaede swallowed the remaining curiosity she had. He’d mentioned Kagome had left home, mentioned it was a long story that wasn’t his to tell, and considering he seemed to know it well enough to remind Kaede to respect the invisible boundary was all she needed. She wasn’t one to intrude, and the last thing she wanted was to make things worse for Kagome.

“Never mind, sweetheart. Forget I asked.” She smiled compassionately, releasing her as she walked over to the closet. She slid the door open, pulling out a futon and setting it out along the floor. She grabbed a blanket from the top shelf, unfolding it and laying it on the futon, and then grabbed an extra pillow from the shelf, as well, to drop on top. “Inuyasha, your bed.”

He grunted as a response, and Kaede understood the weak excuse of a thank you. “Do you need anything else?”

“Nah,” He shook his head. “Go tend to the pigs downstairs. Let me know if any of them want to get handsy.”

“I can handle it.”

“I don’t care.”

“Go to sleep, you look like a mess.”

“You’re mouthy tonight. Fuck off.”

She giggled, rolling her eyes, taking his empty bowl, and ambling back over to the sick girl. “Kagome, sweetie, please eat as much as you can. Don’t worry about the dish, I’ll come back in the morning and grab it when I check in. Can I get you anything else?”

“No, thank you.” She smiled appreciatively. “You’ve done more than enough.”

Kaede left the room, quietly shutting the door behind her, and Inuyasha was quick to follow over, locking it. He picked up the trashcan on the far side of the bedside table, dropping it closer to Kagome. “Just in case.”

He turned before she could thank him with a grin, walking away and heading straight for the curtain-clad window. The moonlight hit his face as soon as he pulled the edge of the curtain back, eyes studying the outside world, and she wondered if he was checking to see if they were followed. Inuyasha stood there for several minutes, analyzing the streets, his good shoulder leaning against the wall.

Thankfully, her stomach had settled a bit, and Kagome found it a good opportunity to try another bite of her soup. Her muscles still trembled unsteadily, the bowl proving to be heavy, but she clutched it carefully and used her legs as a table for stability. The food was good, but her body really wanted to reject it. The smell of it, as homie as it was, was enough to cause her abdomen to tense rigidly, and even the broth hitting her tongue was sufficient in making her throat warn her that if she pushed herself too much, she was going to end up losing everything she’d just consumed. Just to say she tried, Kagome took one more spoonful in her mouth, avoiding the actual bits of vegetables and just swallowing the broth. That was it; that was all she could handle. So, she put the bowl back on the nightstand and rested her head against the headboard.

Inuyasha watched the streets below cautiously. There wasn’t life out; they were empty, hazed in a blue provided by the night sky and the full moon. The unfortunate reality of being safeguarded by Kaede’s deterrents was it worked both ways. Demons hunting them down would lose their scents, and he couldn’t smell them coming from within the barrier either. It was hard for him at first to really let down his guard, to be completely vulnerable, but just because he didn’t have one of his senses didn’t mean he couldn’t rely on his others. He could hear plenty, and he trusted that if anyone got inside, he’d catch them coming before it was too late.

A soft sigh caught his attention, and Inuyasha glanced back over to Kagome on the bed. Her eyes were glazed over, almost closed, and she seemed to be slumping down in her spot. Kaede wasn’t kidding when she said it was quick.

“Lay down, kid.”

She looked over at him wonderingly, blinking sleepily before sluggishly scooting her butt forward so she could lay down properly. She was struggling to readjust her pillows, and Inuyasha couldn’t help but chuckle before heading over to assist her.

“Jesus, this shit’s really kicking your ass.”

“She said - she said it would be fast.” Kagome mumbled.

“Mhm.” He agreed, slipping his arm around her side to help support her weight as he fixed her pillows. Kagome’s feverish head rested against his shoulder, and he slipped his hand behind it as he slowly laid her down. “She didn’t mention how strong it was though, did she?”

Kagome hummed a no, sinking into the bedding.

“You’re so pathetic.” Inuyasha joked lightly, pulling the blankets over her upper body.

“Am not.” She muttered, eyes closing. “Saved your life.”

“I saved yours right back.”

“Not.”

“Alright, alright. Go to sleep, you dummy.”

He left her alone, sauntering back over to the window to watch out for a while before he’d give in to his own fatigue. It was silent. Comfortable. Kagome’s rhythmic breathing was considerably soothing to him compared to the discomfort she’d been in for hours.

“Inuyasha,” The conjurer breathed, and his ambers eyes darted over to her resting form. Her eyes were still closed, blankets raising with each inhale from her chest, and even though she was shadowed, he could still make out her pale skin.

“Hm?”

“Thank you.” She murmured, bringing a slight flurry to awaken in his chest.

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