#i have clicks being VERY silent and bottling this all up bc he's still in this like state of shock | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

swxxtsxcchxrine · 2 years ago

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i need daddy kento to throw me around like i weigh nothing and call me all kinds of mean names and tell me that a bratty slut like me doesn't deserve his cock. but it's the only cock that could ever satiate my hunger. he's so mean but im here for it. i'd also totally ride his abs so hard he'd be asking if i think it's his dick. i need his cock DOWN MY THROAT ok i need his CUM INSIDE OF ME i need him IN MY BED OK i need this man in ways that CANNOT be explained. OK??? NO it's not OK bc HE'S NOT IN MY BED. i literslly wanna sob especailly because i know what is coming for my baby nanami. i just wanna hug him but at the same time have his dick inside of me. :((((

ANYWAYSSSS

imagine being a lonely housewife for a very busy man who often finds himself prioritising work over your needs. the kids are barely home and your friends are all consumed in their own lives. it seems peaceful - some might even say ideal - at first, however it starts to eat at you. especially on important events like your 16th annirvsary.

"i know i know, i promised but you have to understand that the meeting was pushed back and we still don't have the arrangements for the business trip. i promise i'll-" you cut off the phone before he could make another empty promise. you huffed, groaning as you faced the cold dinner you'd made for the two of you. it was the first meal you ever made for him when you guys first moved in together and unsurprisingly his favourite.

you walked back into the kitchen to pour yourself more of that special wine you saved for this day. you stared at the sink for a bit, letting your mind drift off, before hearing the sound of rushing water. you looked down to see water from the bottom of the sink rushing to your feet. you quickly scurried to the far side of the room, silently cursing under your breath. you grabbed your landline to phone your local plumber. much to your dismay, he was all booked out for tonight and you couldn't wait until the morning, however he mentioned something about phoning in the local fire station as most of the men were trained to deal with plumbing issues.

you placed your full wine glass down upon hearing the door bell ring. you checked yourself in the mirror hanging on the wall, running your hands through your hair and wiping the lip gloss off the side of your cheek, making sure you were decent.

"uh..Ms Y/N?" the tired man asks, his eyes hanging low as his peered at your appearance. to say you were an attractive woman was an understatement. your hair hung in loose curls that framed your face and your light blue nightgown accentuated your body shape. your baby blue silk robe seemed to flow and shift in elegance and grace. "this is she, are you nanami?" "yeah... kento nanami. i heard you've got a leaky pipe." he gestured towards the toolbox he carried with him. he followed your lead into the kitchen occasionally leering down watching your ass through the light fabric of the robe, his own shoes thumping to the beat of your own, matching house slippers clicking against the tiled floors.

"just what i thought, a loose pipe." he said grunting as he reached for his wrench. "you want sum' to drink, nanami?" you asked shoving the half empty wine bottle in his face. you were bored, alone and borderline drunk. he chuckled before shaking his head. "drink on the job? nah, no thank you," he sat up before he looked down and huffed. "oh come on, it's terrible drinking alone," you whine, slightly slurring your words, trying to convince the hot middle aged man to say a little longer. his sunken brown eyes bore into yours suspiciously. "you're alone? i thought i saw to dinner plates on the dining table," a sour expression immediately replaced your hopeful one. "oh right. it's my anniversary, but my husband got 'caught up' at work again," you huffed out annoyed.

nanami thought for a while. ever since his divorce, he hadn't come home to a freshly made meal. however he was here strictly for business and he needed to remember that. "well, if your husband isn't here, why let the food go to waste?" he smiled at you. your eyes lit up. it had been months since you'd ate with someone else. he smiled to himself as he watched you grab the dinner plate and popped it in the microwave. "and about that wine, why don't you pour me a glass to go with it,"

"my eldest was an easy baby. look, she didn't even cry when we pierced her ears," you pointed to the old picture of your daughter as nanami reached over to see your child in her infant years. "wish i could say the same. last time i saw my girl, she was always crying," he laughed light-heartedly before becoming silent as he saw your puzzled expression. "divorce. the missus got full custody," he shrugged, running his fingers through his hair. you didn't pry further. you moved over to his side, rubbing his shoulders as bent over, silently reasaurring him. "i'll get more wine. here lemme take your plate," you whispered, taking the empty glass from his hand, your breath lingering around the back of his ear.

as you scrubbed the plate clean, you felt hot breath fan against your neck. "nanami, what are you doing?" you gasped as he wrapped his strong arms around your waist. his lips moved up and down your neck sensually, moving in a rhythm that had you dripping through your laced panties as he groaned in response. "nanami, we shouldn't," you protested, however you made no attempt to get away from his grasp, even as his grip tightened. "shh, you're so under appreciated in your own home," he sighed in your ear before planting a kiss behind it. you whined as you subconsciously rubbed against his throbbing bulge. "nanami-" "call me kento, please," he spun you around with one hand to face him.

his chiselled face moved closer to yours and for the first time you could smell his cologne. hints of sandalwood, spice and jasmine tickled your nose in the most sensual way. your eyes locked for a moment, before you looked away. it had been so long since you'd felt the touch of your husband let alone a man. the sexual tension increased with every second you guys took staring into each others eyes.

he soft lips brushed against yours as he looked you in your eyes, your foreheads touching. "if you don't want this, just say the words. say the words and i'll leave right now. this would be our little secret," he whispered. you searched his eyes, but all you saw was a sparkle. a certain sparkle he hadn't had in years. a certain sparkle you haven't seen in years.

his warm tongue swirled in your mouth as his hand cupped your aching cunt. his other hand was at the back of your head as the two of you sloppily made out. your hands cupped his face, caressing it in your soft hands. you groaned into the kiss as he pressed a finger against your clothes clit. "m'gonna make you feel s'good," he sighed as he broke the kiss, moving down to your neck. you whined as he pulled his hand from your underwear. he took of his jacket revealing his broad shoulders and wide chest hidden beneath a white wife beater. his veins popping out with every movement he made. "come here," he whispered eagerly holding out his arms for you to jump in. he lifted you onto the counter, his tender lips somehow making their way back to yours again.

you watched eagerly as he lowered himself, face to face with your dripping hole. "look at you. she hasn't been fucked in weeks, has she?" he sniggered as he watched your face drop. he'd gone from a well mannered service provider to a man with a fucking filthy mouth. maybe you'll keep him around longer. your thoughts were interrupted by a warm and wet tongue lapping against your clothed cunt. "nanami...!" you squealed instinctively reaching to grab on his hair and shut your legs around his head. he laughed at your reaction, the vibrations stimulating your cunt further. he simply just ripped your legs apart with his big strong arms. "keep still f'me," he demanded. you whined but nonetheless followed his instructions.

his mouth reattached itself to your sopping pussy as he continued lapping. he made sure to suck and nibble on your throbbing clit even through your lacey blue panties. you groaned as his fingers moved to play around and rub your slit. you huffed, your sensitive pussy clenching around an empty space. your legs started to twitch as he moved his fingers towards your clit, rubbing firm circles. "wow, you close already? so filthy..." he whispered condescendingly. "kento...!" you pulled harder at his hair as his fingered moved faster.

your legs began shaking as it became too much too quickly. "what is it, princess? you gonna come for me, yeah?" he watches as you gasp and attempt to close your legs around his hand. but he was just too strong. you gasped as he moved his hand, leaving on the edge of your orgasm. "what the hell?" you shot up from the counter. "be patient. i said i'd make you feel good, didn't i?" he raised a brow whilst unbuckling his cargo pants and dropping his drawls. they fell to the floor as his hot bulge made your pussy leak even more. "fuck..." he sighed, finally getting his dick free. he pumped his cock a few times, smearing the pre-cum all over.

he pulled your panties off, slick sticking to your foiled panties. his thumb and index pulled your lips apart, watching as your stringing arousal stuck them together and your hole clench around the cool air. "how long since you been eaten out, babe?" he asks. "what?" you sigh, too cock hungry to register his question. your whining gave him all he needed to know. he clicked his tongue before wrapping his lips around the sore bud. his large hands held your thighs open, as wide as they could go. you squealed as his tongue lapped against your cunt.

the only time he broke away was to spit on your filthy hole, watching as it dripped down to your clenching asshole. he was sloppy. and messy. and loud. he groaned in encouragement, making sure to make a mess out of your sopping cunt. you cried out in ecstasy as he brought his mouth to your clit again, this time making sure to suck hard. he shook his head from side to side, eliciting a high pitched moan from your mouth. "kento!" you whined at the stranger in your home from the sensitivity of it all.

"fuck...ken- m'so close" he groaned his response as your brows furrowed and your eyes glossed over in bliss. your hips buckled against his mouth despite him trying to hold you still. "stop squirming, pretty," he grumbled. "look at the way she's talking to me. she's just begging to cum," he squinted before bringing you right into his mouth again and holding you there. "come on baby," he spat on your cunt before diving in further. "wait- wait- ken-to..." you wailed, attempting to push his head away.

your cunt wasn't used to the stimulation of being sloppily eaten. the sensitivity was getting to you fast. tears brimmed in the corners of your eyes as you began sniffing. his grip tightened on you as you squirmed harder. your legs shook and twitched around his head.

"ken! slow down, please!" he smiled as he watched you writhe in his tight hold. your stomach tightened and your breathe hitched. your toes started curling as you arched your back and pulled his hair for dear life. your held your breath as you came all over his face. "yeah...that's it, just like that," he watched as your legs spasmed and your eyes rolled back and your tongue lolled mindlessly out of your mouth. "fuck..." you slurred slowly coming back to your senses. he pulled away and closely watched you come down from your high as he slowly rubbed on your sore clit.

"hah...that was s'good..." you breathed. "i told you i'd make you feel good," he whispered as he took your hand in his and took your shaky figure into the living room. his large hand wrapped around your waist. he sat upright on the sofa beckoning you towards his lap. you sat in between his open legs. "ride me baby, show me how much you've missed having a dick inside of you," he leered at your figure towering over him. you discarded the silk robe and kneeled over his stiff cock.

"ken it's too big, it won't fit..." you thought for a bit. he smirked before rubbing your back. "come on, we can go slow..." "ken s'not gonna fit!" you pleaded. "you're a big girl, take it like one," he sternly said. your pursed your lips. you took it in your hands, pumping it a few times before sinking down.

you winced in unison, your tight walls squeezing on his throbbing dick. he was thick and girthy. hitting you in all the right places. he had you drooling already. he tapped you thigh, breaking you from your dicked hungry state. "wow, you really haven't been fucked in a while," he chuckled.

you started grinding your hips, experimenting with different paces. his hand remained on your hips, before you started to bounce up and down. "there's a good girl," he sighed, watching your body move up and down, fucking yourself on his aching cock. "you like that, yeah?" you asked, steadying yourself by holding his shoulders. his hand moved down to your ass before landing a heavy handed smack. he rubbed on the sore skin, before squeezing it in his hands. "fuck yeah, i love it," he whined, his hips buckling.

you laughed breathlessly however your pace never faltered. his grip tightened as you began to gain in speed. your gummy walls gripped on his eager dick, clenching tightly. you gasped upon feeling his cock meet your hips. your wet cunt made it easy for kento to thrust up into you and he made sure you knew.

"hah...fuck kento..." you cried looking down at him. his eyes were glossed over in a cloud of lust and hunger. "keep going f'me girl," his fingers moved towards your clit, rubbing firm circles on the bud. "keep going, come on," he huffed sexily moving the hair from his face, with his free hand. you winced as his pace quickened. "fuck, keep squeezing me like that," he whined, throwing his head back. "fuck Y/N..." his fingers continued to play with your clit while his other hand landed another sharp slap onto your ass.

your eyes rolled into your skull as his hips angled towards the spongey spot deep in your cunt. "fuck!" you whine. your legs buckle as he watches you fall. "oh you like that?" he chuckles lowly. "yes yes yes! fuck kento!" your eyes roll back as his pace quickens. he fucks himself into you hissing every time you clench down on him.

"kento, m'close!" you gasped, your grip on his shoulders tightening. he watched from below as your face contorted into that of bliss as he kept hitting that same spot. "just like that," your cunt squelched with every thrust nanami had to give you. your tummy churned as his dick pummelled your gummy walls. your slick was running down your leg as you let out babbles and moans of pure nonsense. you legs began to spasm as you started drooling. "whose dick is this?" he said through breaths. "huh?" you whined too dick whipped to comprehend anything. he smacked your bum again, "whose. dick. is. this?" he said firmly in between thrusts.

"it's mine, mine kento!" you wailed loud enough for neighbours to hear. "there's a good girl," his large arm wrapped around your waist, holding you still against his hips. your babbles increased in pitch and your legs grew limp. "you close baby?" he asked raising a brow.

you nodded eagerly. "use you words f'me. tell me how bad you wanna cum," "uh huh, uh huh, want it so bad kento!"

your toes curled and uncurled as nanami kept his hips at the angle that had you coming undone. "yes fuck! thank you! thank you!" you babble out nodding your head, tears stinging in your eyes. "fuck, you're too tight, loosen up f'me," he whined, his hips were stuttering as he tried to move but you were just too tight. you were too fucked out on his hefty cock to even acknowledge his comment. "Y/N, you need to relax.." his voice became higher in pitch as he continued to thrust into your tight hole.

his thrust became sloppy and inconsistant as his legs started to spasm. "m'gonna cum," he huffed, thick cock throbbing inside of you. "inside kento!" you wailed incoherently. "inside? you want it inside, yeah?" you nodded sobbing as tears from over sensitivity started flowing freely down your cheeks. his hips stuttered one last time before he came in your sore cunt.

his eyes rolled back as he huffed. his arm around your waist tightened as he began to pull out. your cunt oozed with a mixture of your slick, cum and his cum. "yeah, that's it...look at that. your cunt is just leaking," his filthy mouth was back at work as the creampie ran down your leg.

he slid his tip between your folds smearing the mess everywhere. his thick cock left your aching hole gaping as he kissed your forehead. as you leaned in to kiss all over his face, the landline rung. "i'll go get the phone," you sighed that such a sensual moment was being ruined.

"hello?"

"hey honey, how would you feel about a trip to a resort in Miami for a week?" your husband suggested as an apology for missing your anniversary. you thought for a moment before facing the firefighter in your home. he lay on the sofa, smiling goofily to himself, with one hand placed behind his head.

"sure, why not."

"and again, i'm sorry i missed our anniversary, i won't happen again." he chuckled from the other side of the phone. you did start to feel guilty about sleeping with another man when you have a hard working husband, but then again, your own husband was out having his own escapades with various other women you weren't aware about. "i'm sure i won't," you replied slyly before hanging up the landline.

you walked over to the nasty fireman before sitting back in his lap.

"round 2?"

"i thought you'd never ask..."

2023 © swxxtsxcchxrine— do not repost or translate my work. likes, reblogs, and comments are welcome <3

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manofthepipis · 2 years ago

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Also so so sorry for writing for so long and clogging your askbox (I’m literally so obsessed with your story) :’) but there’s one more thing that I wanted to add, and that’s the relationship between Clicks and Spam. Like hooo Boy, Theres a lot to be said about those two. One thing that Ive noticed with Clicks and Spamton respectively is how… similar they are. Like, even the other Addisons make remarks on how those two behave like one another. “It was one of the things Clicks and him shared. The most impractical way to handle practical problems.” I think that this is why Clicks has such a strong resentment to Spamton in the beginning because he sees too much of himself in Spam. Maybe he might have felt the most hurt by Spamton’s abandonment. Like, maybe they were really close pre-bigshot era and Clicks just thought that Spamton was becoming too self centered or something? Or maybe it was like the typical why not me mentality? I honestly think that if Clicks and Spam want to have a better development with one another. They need to have a heart to heart y’know? Like with no one else present. Clicks having the chance to express all of his emotions, and Spamton having the chance to tell him that his life in the mansion wasn’t a bed of roses like Clicks initially thought. Like, these two need a therapy session together or something!!!! Love them tho!!

cries never ever apologize ur completely fine!! honestly i love the questions and such it makes me feel so validated as a writer ;v; (also super enthusiastic as i get a lil excuse to talk about these guys that i love so)

also i'm living for this analysis like i'm rlly glad i could get their similarity across :D I feel like the fact they're both addisons (or in spams case, former addison), clicks would understand how self-centered spamton is, as selfishness just kinda runs in their darkner type (makes for the best salesmen) but instead i think you've rlly hit the nail on the head when u brought up his 'why not me' mentality.

Like in addition to stemming from how hostile he was to spamton in-game, I tried to paint him as just feeling superior to spamton from day one. I thought it would fit better if he was a newer addison, and seeing both banner and survey excelling above the addison that's trying to still gain a semblance of respect in their group, clicks joined the winning side of not really taking spamton seriously and just seeing him as "that guy". so when the insufficient-email-addison finally surpasses them, it leads to the intense jealousy and resentment when spamton made it big.

tho now clicks is coming down from this superiority pedestal he's been on for so long, partially because he truly cares about spamton, but also, because they're so similar, and because he's still kinda selfish, he's thinking instead of "why not me" it's "oh shit THAT could have been me".

i do plan to have them talk, bc i think out of all the addisons, clicks would benefit the most from a one-on-one :) i have all of them talking next chapter that's super duper late bc of life but if everything works out, I'll have it up sometime soon!

#i do hc them as being close but like as close as a failed-pitiable addison and rather-successful addison can be #like they're family but first and foremost they're competitors and made to be so #there's the power imbalance that was like heavily outweighed on both sides before and after spamton's big shot-ification #asks #fanfic #'that could have been me' kinda sets spamton's fate as being nothing more than a cautionary tale to the addisons #before AND after they found out what happened to him #and what a tragedy like his defining fates are just his forever staples #i also love the idea of spamton tellin clicks is wasnt all grass is always greener #bc despite all of the glamor and fame that's the place in which he had his most horrific experiences #ah forgive my rambling i can talk about them forever #i have clicks being VERY silent and bottling this all up bc he's still in this like state of shock #it's a shock that everyone has just in massively different ways

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xoxo-teddybear · 4 years ago

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Bakugou’s daughter brings home a Boyfriend

Bakugou x wife!reader

Ft. Bakugou’s daughter

Warnings: fluff, lowkey Crack, sexual mentions, small angst, cursing, Bakugou being such a dad

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

A/N: This is one of my favorite types of Bakugou. Domestic father Bakugou!! So bc of that fact, this piece was born. Hope you enjoy!

Bakugou as a boyfriend? Bliss. Bakugou as a fiancé? Heaven. Bakugou as a husband? Euphoric

Bakugou as a dad?.......he sure is something

Don’t get me wrong, Bakugou would be the ultimate dad

Baby crying in the middle of the night? Sleep love, daddy’s got it. Baby needs a bottle? He can warm it up with his hands. Baby’s feeling bored? Look at these mini fireworks in his hands!! Katsuki’s got it all

But that’s a baby Bakugou

Bakugou with a teenager

oOf

Katsuki’s teen will be either one of two things

His best friend

Or his mortal enemy (whom he still loves endlessly)

His 16 year old daughter, Katsumi, was both

And yes they loved each other very much, but they also got into battles on who could cook dinner better, who Y/N loved more, hell, when y’all came back from a restaurant THEY FOUGHT OVER WHO MADE IT TO THE FRONT DOOR FIRST

But this battle? Y/N might just let them Kill each other...just this once

——————————————————————————

“WHO THE FUCK IS THI-“

*SMACK* (thx Y/N)

“Daddy, this is Izuru! Izuru this is my lovely mother and that’s my shitty dad that I love so dearly!”

Katsumi definitely inherited her guts from the Bakugou’s

“Nice to meet you Mr and Mrs. Bakugou!”

Ah man, here we go

Silence. Pure, awkward, scary, silence. And of course Y/N’s nervous twitching HOPING that her dear husband doesn’t murder the green haired boy. As the young couple stand infront of the doorway smiling, the older couple is staring at them, one in nervousness, and the other in shock. (I’m talking Denki going 4 million volts shocked)

“Well.....Welcome Izuru! I knew you’d be coming over soon but I didn’t expect it tonight. It’s lovely to meet you,” Y/N ever so kindly said once she let out a sigh.

Her husband almost got whiplash from how fast he turned to look at her. “Knew?!? You knew about this kid?? And didn’t bother to tell me?!??”

“Well if I told you, you woulda stopped this meeting from happening ya jerk!” Y/N visciously explained.

“YA DAMN RIGHT CUZ-“ silenced with another smack from his wife. Y/N sure learned a lot from Mitsuki. “Please come in you two, I’ll start dinner.”

As the young couple sat in the living room speaking, the older one was in the kitchen preparing food. Well one of them was, the other was too busy burning a whole into the poor boy’s body with just his eyes.

*SMACK*

“Ow.” Continues to stare

“Suki stop that, you’re gonna scare the poor boy.” Y/N said.

“GOOD. I DONT WANT SOMEONE LIKE HIM CONTAMINATING THE BAKUGOU LINE!” The blonde dramatically yelled.

“Contaminating? Love, we don’t even know if they’ve had sex. I doubt he’s “contaminating” anything any time soon.” You said with attitude.

Bakugou just stared at you know with the same look.

“Hmph!” And turned to look back at the kids.

“HEY!” Bakugou screamed.

“Heyyyyy~” Katsumi replied.

“No not “Heyyyy~,” Katsuki began and replied with a girly impersonation of his daughter as he walk towards the couple. “I mean, HEY, as in have you had sex with this kid?” He sternly asked.

“KATSUKI OH MY GOD,” Y/N screamed as she dropped something in shock.

“.......Yeah, so what?” His daughter replied.

Y/N wasn’t even mad. She already knew. She could tell. Mother’s instinct I guess.

Katsuki was fuming.

“NOPE! NO! THIS RELATIONSHIP WONT GO ON! YOU’RE TOO YOUNG TO BE HAVING SEX!” The older blonde screamed while looking at the now blushing green haired teen and his rebellious daughter. And Y/N was just giving him this...look.

‘What a fucking hypocrite’ you thought to yourself.

“How old were you when you fucked mom?”

(ITS QUIET AINT NO BACKTALK)

Pure and utter silence.

Katsuki started stepping back from the couple while facing them and nodding his head. “.....use condoms,” and walked back to his deceased wife.

As dinner is placed on the table and everyone takes their seats, Katsuki can’t help but stare at this boy. Why does he seem so familiar?

Everyone just ate and talked. Grades, school, when did y’all meet, how long has it been? The usual. But Katsuki remained silent while thinking. And then..it clicked!

Katsuki slammed his hands on the table and stood up from his seat looking at the boy across from him. “What’s your last name?!”

Izuru was nervous because he was well aware of who Katsumi’s father was and how her father’s relationship with his own father was kinda iffy.

“M-Midoriya sir.” He nervously stated.

Katsuki saw red.

“DEKU?!??????!!!!!” He screamed

“Oh come on Katsuki! Like that wasn’t obvious!” You said rolling your eyes.

“There is NO WAY IN HELL I’m gonna let the Bakugou line be contaminated with Deku’s genes! Our family line only brings in the best of the best!” Katsuki proudly and loudly stated.

“So what am I?” Y/N asked.

“The best of the best! You were and are the perfect one for me Y/N! You know this, I know this, everyone knows this. And look at what we created-“ he was interrupted by his wife.

“A mini you?”

“A MINI ME! And who wouldn’t want that?!”

“Dad.” Katsumi said.

Now that caught Katsuki off guard. For the past 16 years, Katsumi has always been a daddy’s girl. She never called him “dad,” ew. She said “Daddy,” or “Shitty dad.” As Katsuki turned to his daughter he could see the look in her eyes.

“.......you really wanna be with this kid?” He asked.

“I really do.” Katsumi said while grabbing onto Izuru’s hand.

“...Ok then. You can be with him.” Katsuki calmly said.

Katsumi excitingly got up and ran towards her dad’s seat giving him a hug.

“Thanks daddy,” she said while giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Dinner continued on as normal as it could. Katsuki was just gonna have to learn how to let go.

Later

As the married couple got ready to sleep, Katsuki was hanging outside their balcony.

“What was up with you Blasty? I haven’t seen that kinda Katsuki since UA.” You jokingly said as you went to stand beside him.

“You’re not scared?” Katsuki asked.

“Of?”

“Katsumi. She’s growing up. She has a boyfriend now. That girl is having sex! She’s not daddy’s little girl anymore.” He sadly said.

“That’s what this is about? Katsumi growing up? Suki, this was always gonna happen. She’s in her prime teenage years. She’s 16! A lots gonna start happening.” You began.

“I know that but-“

“But nothing Katsuki. You can be scared of her growing up, I am too, but we can’t be so scared that we try and stop her. You just have to know that Katsumi will always come back to us no matter how old she is. And she will always, always be a daddy’s girl. Her entire world revolves around you Katsuki, but we gotta let her go at some point. We have to let her grow. That’s how the best of the best are made after all, right? It’s what we look for in a Bakugou.” You finished.

Katsuki couldnt do anything but smile. You were right. He knew you were. And he was willing to let his little cub grow.

“......You’ve gotta stop interrupting me when I talk.” He laughed.

“And you’ve gotta stop saying the dumbest shit in the world.” You teased back.

He pulled you in for a quick peck and just held you there in his arms. He was so glad he had you to keep him grounded. You’re the best of the best after all. It only makes sense.

“Daddy?” Katsumi walked into her parents room, unnoticed.

As the two broke the hug to see their daughter, looking a little timid, Katsuki spoke.

“Katsumi, hey princess. What’s up with you.” Katsuki asked as he walked towards his daughter.

“You’re not...disappointed in me, right? You know, for who I chose to be with. I’m sorry if I chose Izuru but I-“ this time, it was Katsuki who interrupted.

“Hey hey, no of course not baby bear. I would never be disappointed in who your true feelings pulled you to. I don’t want you to apologize for anything when today I caused most of the trouble.” Katsuki said while wiping one of his daughter’s stray tears.

“You know I’m never gonna leave you guys. Right? I’m gonna grow up but I’ll always want to have a close relationship with you and mom. I love you guys, and I’m not going anywhere.” Katsumi said.

“We know Katsumi. And we love you too. And we’re far from disappointed in you. We are so proud of the young woman you’ve become today.” Y/N joined in.

Katsumi ran to her mother and gave her the tightest hug, and Katsuki couldn’t help but stare at his two girls. His world. His entire reason for living. All right there in his arms as he pulled them in for a bigger hug.

“Thanks you guys. Well, I’m gonna head to bed. I’ve got a date with Izuru tomorrow and I don’t wanna be late.” Katsumi began walking towards her parents door until Katsuki called her.

“Hey baby bear,”

“Yeah?”

“Izuru. He seems alright. He’ll be good for you.” Katsuki admitted.

“Yeah. He really is. He’s the best of the best after all. Reminds me of someone I know.” Katsumi said while leaving the room.

Yeah. Katsuki will be just fine.

A/N: Sheesh. This kinda sucked but I did this in my literature class sooo....it’s still credible work since I was writing, right? Yeah..?....No?...yeah ok. Anyways, HOPED YOU ENJOYED IT BEAR CUBS🧸💗

P.S. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT!! And I PROMISE I’ll get better and produce more work. Feel free to leave requests!

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nopenname23 · 5 years ago

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here’s a shitpost of me playing the click and drag game <3

If you wanna play too, here’s the link X.

KUROO is your Best Friend & BOKUTO is your Sibling

THE KUROO AND BOKUTO FRIENDSHIP ALDKJASDLK. Just living for the imagery of your older brother and your best friend having the BEST broromance?!?

I love it. You’d be the three musketeers

Bokuto is the best big bro and u won’t tell me otherwise

He’d definitely act like 5 years younger than you sometimes, even though he’s a year older

You’d call him nii-chan esp when he’s in emo/baby mode

You’d pep him up in a second when you say “but nii-chan can do anything!”

[[Akaashi (despite his understanding of Kou and abilities to control his funk) is admittedly quite jealous of the immediacy and certainty of your ways]]

Anyways, yeah yeah, kuroo was your brother’s bffl first

But over time he’s just been really dependable and like the /actual/ older bro of your group

Guh I love this dynamic a lot

ATSUMU is your Rival

Same year.

Same class.

Every year.

Sometimes you think it’s fate’s cruel joke.

You’ve got a rivalry going with Atsumu that has only been going on since pre K

It started with you two competing to make the biggest and prettiest sandcastle

To this day, no one knows who stomped on whose first, but everyone remembers the tears and the screaming blame game

In the present, he’s your rival in the sense that you try your best to destroy each other’s egos

Relentlessly.

Your interests are vastly different, but your temperaments are quite the match

Aka Atsumu loooves your reactions

And you take his bait Every. Time.

At the end of the day tho, somehow you still got each other's backs

You stick with the same circle of friends

There's this one time when you gave him the silent treatment for a while and he was very very confused.

He tried to play nice but even then u weren't having it

(Tbh it was like shaking the bottle of a carbonated drink. You felt it, but you seemingly had the patience of a saint)

Atsumu starts to get hurt by this bc even though you never gave each other a break, he's never considered you not a friend

He withdraws and his silence actually shakes the bottle more somehow

So when he mutters an offhand comment about you always being late under his breath at a group hangout

You burst.

LIKE YOU DON'T MAKE US ALL WAIT WHILE YOU PUT THE GREASE ON YOUR MUSTARD HEAD?

o.o

He's stunned (along with everyone else) but it only lasts a second bc everything is back to normal and this feels way better than being ignored

Ughhh why don't you just go home it seems like you haven't prepared your public manners yet >:(

"Don't worry, y/n. I'm not going anywhere. :)"

"KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF BUD ISTG—"

"Did you hear that everyone?? We're buds :)"

TENDOU Plays Volleyball with You

When you were younger, you’d accompany Kou and Kuroo to the community volleyball spaces

And when no one Tendou’s age wanted to play with him, there you were

And the cutest friendship blossomed <3

It was fun, he taught you a lot (and while your technique has improved, you don’t love the effort it takes to chase the ball lol)

You mostly just toss back and forth while you gossip

You both are THE BIGGEST shittalkers

You LIVE to just chat and each other’s antics (you both like to poke fun at others’ egos and laugh about it together later lol. I love a bully duo)

Dw this duo doesn’t make their victims cry or anything

Like max is poking fun at Semi’s casual clothes and saying he looks weird (even though he looks damn fiineee)

SEMI Takes You Out on a Date

speaking of Semi...

SEMISEMISEMI

[[PLEASE TAKE ME OUT MY MUSICALLY GIFTED BB]]

You’ve lowkey crushed on this beauty for a while

But there’s like too many degrees of separation between ya

He goes to tendou’s school, he works at the record store, he’s in a local band

He's so cool and hot and you have no nerve to talk to him

Luckily (or not) tendou somehow makes a date happen

(Tbh I don't think semi knows it's supposed to be a date but it def is for you!!)

You've only waited your whole life for this moment.

You’d go to the movies or something generic (bc you want to plan it out to a tee and make it perfect so u go with cliche bc this is everything you want to tell your grandkids etc)

Yay! Date with semi~

KAI Cockblocks You

(fyi I know next to nothing about Kai, but he gives off v nice guy with a nice smile vibes)

So on your date with Semi, Kai also happens to be working at the movies that day

You’ve been v excited about this date and have maybe overprepared

(as in pretty much scripted the entire thing)

Part of your plan was to see the latest horror film (you think it’ll make you look tough... and you pre-watched it so that you wouldn’t do anything too embarrassing and could come up with quippy lines/reactions)

As you approach the ticket counter, there’s this guy there with a nametag reading Kai

Turns out that horror movie is sold out :/

So Kai suggests a different movie bc it’s playing at the same time

-This is fineeeee. You’ll make do. Stick to the script.-

Too bad the movie’s a Schindlers List type of show

Everything goes NOT according to plan from this point on

You act super awkward (aka major performance anxiety)

You say lines that you prepared for the jumpscare scenes at the dramatic ones in this film

It. is. Not. cute.

No recovery available.

Sorry.

You had plans to eat after but it was a heavy movie and semi thinks it'd be best to part ways here

O.o

"oh. ok...bye"

You don't go to the record store anymore.

Sigh.

So, therefore, Kai inadvertently “ruined all and any semblance of romantic feels that could and would have developed!!”

It’s no fault of his own, but you refuse to forgive him. Ever.

Poor guy :(

(Later you see him playing at a Nekoma match with Kuroo, ur bffl, and you highkey shoot him glares the whole game lol. Gives him SEVERE shivs)

Again, poor guy.

KITA was your First Kiss

When you were in middle school Kita was your first kiss after some freak ‘accident’ on suna’s part HAHA

[[or maybe, casual middle school bf bc he was the nicest friend and you walked home together, held hands, and then tried to kiss and were both like lol nah]]

Dw he’s been very chill about the whole thing, apologises and lets you know it doesn’t count and he’s still your pal (sweet bb)

Atsumu looked on with a surprised raised eyebrow open mouthed look like D8<

If anything, Atsumu is the one who doesn't let anyone forget this happened

YAMAGUCHI Has a Crush on You

Yamaguchi (and all other ‘nice boys’) crush on you because you give off sweet and quiet and perfect wife-y material vibes

Little do they know when you’re with your pals, you’re the rowdiest of the bunch, got the mouth of a sailor, and just the biggest roaster of anyone and everyone

So he has a crush on you for a while

But he never talks to you and that's cool~

?????? Is Your Boyfriend

Tbh i have no clue who that character is... dkm lol

You probably had a period where you forgot his name too

You call him petnames to get around that

You’re mostly dating bc he confessed to you and he seems like he rly likes you so you thought the attention would be nice :)

Atsumu definitely gives you the HARDEST time when he catches on that you don’t know your bf’s name/anything about him.

It is 100p THE. WORST.

He def baits you when you’re in a large group setting with your bf to embarrass you (ex. “Okay, now y/n is going to order us by our first names/birthdays/day we first met her! >:)”)

Yeah, so this relationship lasts longer than it realistically should (but not really that long, you don’t waste ur best years with him or anything)

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq au #haikyuu au #kuroo #bokuto #tendou #atsumu #kita #kai #semi #yamaguchi #my writing #my shitpost lol #haiykuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios

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homebody-nobody · 5 years ago

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touch me someone

HIIIII it’s your favorite fic writer back from the dead with TWO whole fics real close together maybe I’ll finally become a consistent publisher?!? we can dream. Anyway. JJ and Kiara are my new Bellamy and Clarke I guess so enjoy this VERY angsty smutty hurt/comforty poetic nonsense the idea for which would not leave my brain til I wrote it. Please for the love of god read this bc I actually kind of love it and need validation or concrit or literally any feedback at all bc my none of my irl friends like this show so pls interact/comment

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ao3

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He pulls away from her, and his eyes are wide but dry as his chest heaves. He looks wild, uncaged and raw, the moonlight turning his blond hair white and his blue eyes into pools of silver. Tragedy and shock have destroyed him, the chains he’d wrapped around his brash, heedless, unending want twisted into shards by an explosion of hurt and grief. He has always been the victim, the boy left behind in empty rooms with nothing but loss and bloody fragments, told to piece himself back together. Finally, they’ve taken the last thing. When he told John B they had nothing to lose, they still had each other. And now, he doesn’t even have that.

But she’s still here.

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Touch me someone

I’m too young to feel so

numb, numb, numb, numb

You could be the one to

Make me feel somethin, somethin.

The Phantom went down around 8:30 PM. Or maybe 10:30. Kiara doesn’t remember. She only knows that the hours between then and now have felt like a lifetime and also no time at all. Like she’ll turn and John B will be there, behind her shoulder, laughing at something JJ said, Sarah hanging off his arm; but also like the world is dark and will be dark and has been dark forever. Like the sun will never rise after this. Like the storm took the light and heat from the world just like it took her best friend.

Later, she’ll learn that John B’s official time of death is listed as 8:34 PM, when they stopped trying to establish radio contact with him and Sarah. Later, she’ll watch news stories about the manhunt for Rafe Cameron and the scandal of Ward Cameron’s property being left to his second wife, rather than his remaining daughter. Later, she’ll get an email from an internet cafe in Bermuda and her whole world will flip upside down one more time.

But now, she is laying in her four-poster bed, watching the ceiling fan lazily trawl the same, tired circle, listening to the pull-chain tap not-quite-silently against the glass fixture. Now, her hair still damp from the shower that her mother made her take, eyes stinging from sharp wind and tears not yet shed, the inside of her mouth shredded and sore from the hours she spent chewing on her lips, the world is too quiet, too peaceful. The crickets outside sing soft and gentle, just like they have every night her whole life, and the texture of her comforter, the quiet harmony of the night, the soft click and whoosh of the fan -- it all feels so chokingly familiar, like spiralling back down to earth after spending weeks dipping in and out of orbit.

She wants to scream until her throat is raw, sob and fight and unleash herself on every single adult that hurt John B, that brushed him off or refused to help or wouldn’t listen to him. She wants to gut Ward Cameron for ripping everything away from John B, first his father, and then the gold that was his by right. The gold that was theirs. She wants to rip off Rafe’s skin piece by piece until he’s in shreds at her feet. She wants to eviscerate his father with the same gaff hook he used to rip apart those two mainlanders and ruin John B’s life. She’s so full of hurt and grief and anger that her fists keep clenching white-knuckled in her blankets and she wants to bring down the sky itself. But at the same time, she’s haunted by that same emptiness that followed her after Sarah’s childish betrayal, like she’s watching it all from the outside.

She can’t sleep. She won’t. Sleep is just an escape, a place to forget, and she’ll have to wake up and remember what happened all over again, remember the rush of hope and the hours of adrenaline and apprehension that ended in a tragedy none of them could have ever predicted. What child foretells death?

Rolling over, she presses her face into her pillow, smothering herself until her lungs force her to turn her head for air. She opens her eyes, no less heavier than they were hours ago. Her throat tightens like tears are about to well up, to spill over and stain her sheets, but they don’t come. Itchy and claustrophobic, she throws back the sheets and paces over the smooth boards of her room, bare feet making soft noises over the lacquered wood. She has to get out, to make sure that she didn’t dream up the whole goddamn thing.

She dresses quickly, throwing on denim cutoffs and an old drug rug that cycled its way through at least two of the boys’ wardrobes before landing in hers. She doesn’t know where she’s going, doesn’t know what she needs, but she throws her wallet, her charger, a flashlight, and her water bottle in her beat up backpack, and, on second thought, a toothbrush and some deodorant. She picks up her keds and tiptoes down the stairs, avoiding the creaky eighth stair.

The key rack is empty, and, chastising herself for believing her parents would leave the car keys out after everything she’d pulled in the last few days, she rocks on her heels, assessing her options. The most prudent one is probably just to go back to bed, given the usual risks of going out at night as a teenage girl, the massive punishment that looms in her future, and, now, the lack of a vehicle. But the thought of returning to her stale room, skin crawling and mind racing at a standstill, makes the decision for her. She slips out the back door, making sure to catch the screen door before it slams, and digs out her bike from next to the garage. The tires could use air and the gears are misaligned, but it still rides, and it’ll get her… somewhere else.

Her original intention is to go to Pope’s house, mostly because it’s closest, but then she thinks about how she kissed him earlier that afternoon -- and God, was that just this afternoon? There’d be implications, now. Showing up in the middle of the night, throwing pebbles at his window -- it would mean something. So she stands up on the pedals and pushes past his street, floating like jetsam through the night.

She ends up heading for the chateau, which is where she was going all along. After her family moved to the outskirts of figure eight just before high school, it was the only place that felt like home anymore. She cruises deep into the cut, where even the smell of the air changes, from freshly mowed grass and chlorinated in-ground pools to gasoline and oil, rotting seaweed and the salt marsh.

The little house sits in the reeds, ramshackle and welcoming as ever, tired and reaching under the moon. It’s empty and forlorn, alone on the edge of the edge, out past the main cluster of the cut, pushed past the tideline, separated from the rest of the flotsam by a freak wave. The Routledge boys never fit in, even with the outcasts, and they made their home like they knew it. Skidding to a stop in the gravel driveway, the sting of tiny rocks against her bare ankles is the only thing she’s really felt in hours. Her heart picks up, skipping over itself as her memory stumbles over all the years seeping out of the wind-weathered boards and the sinking foundation.

Again, it feels like this would be a moment for tears, like the sight of John B’s house, the memory of Big John’s booming laugh and all the bonfire-scented nights on that sagging porch should mean enough to make something in her crack, to finally shatter the glass walls of shock and let the grief come pouring in. But it doesn’t. She just stares up at the chateau, one part of her aching for the ease of a found family she’ll never get back, the other dreading the fate of the little house.

The breeze changes directions as she stares up at the rickety shutters and holey screens, bringing with it the tinny sound of music played out of a cell phone in a solo cup, a noise she knows well. Her stomach drops to the hard-packed dirt, crashing there with her bicycle and sending up a cloud of dust. Maybe John B survived. Maybe he made it back to shore, and he’s laying low, doing that stupid, chivalrous thing he does, trying to protect them by not letting them know. Maybe he’s out by the shed in that old metal lawn chair, Sarah in his lap, exhausted and defeated and alive. But as she gets closer, the moonlight glints off tawny waves crusted with sweat and salt, and the momentary, wild hope crashes and ebbs away from the shore.

JJ hears her, of course, sitting up in the hammock and turning toward the sound of her flat-soled sneakers slapping the dirt. “Hey,” he says, his expressive face, for once, inscrutable.

“Hey,” she says, slightly out of breath from the sprint. “I thought you were…” she trails off, because he knows. Because he’s the only one in the whole world who can look at her and understand the cathedral dreams and vaulted memories crashing down in her chest.

“I’m not,” he says, an answer that belies more than either of them knows. JJ gets this look, when he’s seconds away from doing something particularly concerning (and usually criminal). Manic energy lights up in his blue eyes, burning anywhere from mischief to stubborn determination to full-tilt rage. The well-developed muscles in his shoulders and arms refuse to relax, and his hands get so fidgety they lose the coordination it takes to flip the zippo lighter between long, practiced fingers. His face fights with itself, half already spitting with well-steeped anger, the other tired, and broken, and grieving.

“I noticed,” she responds. She drops her bag on one of the metal folding chairs, dooming it to a coating of flaky, faded paint. Crossing the grass, hoping her broad strides will disguise the rattling breath in her chest, the shake in her hands, she moves to sit next to him in the hammock, and he shifts his weight to allow her.

There’s no verbal communication, no squabble about personal space or indignant demands she find her own seat. There never is, not with her boys. The Pogues. It seems so silly now, hiding behind that name for themselves, a name she’d never really belonged to, anyway. He’s holding a lit joint in one hand, a bottle dangling from the other, and he offers her one while swigging from the other. The old favorites of a Maybank in crisis. She takes it.

He falls back next to her, sending the hammock swinging as he gazes up at the stars. Sarah had known the most about constellations, of the five of them, but JJ knows a fair amount, too, some of the only memories of his mother the nights when she would hold him under the stars, tracing the designs across the sky, her hand wrapped around his tiny one. His eyes keep drifting off the sky and landing on Kiara, eyes distant, bathed in moonlight.

“He’s not dead,” JJ says, surprising himself as much as her. He sits up, and she follows. He stares at his feet for a while, and she thinks about putting her arms around him. “I --” he picks his head up to look at her and stops, voice stolen by the hope in her eyes. “I’d feel it,” he finishes lamely, and watches the spark die.

“The first stage of grief is denial,” she says, and it’s supposed to be at least slightly lighthearted, but it falls cruelly to the crabgrass.

“You sound like Pope,” he counters, and there’s too much weight to that name to throw it around for long. They’re both thinking of Kiara kissing him, and the memory is pleasant to neither.

She doesn’t really know why she did that. Maybe it’s because he’s everything she’s supposed to want, intelligence and ambition and ingenuity, everything she tells herself is important in a guy. Maybe because he’s in love with her. Maybe because she’s definitely in love with one of her best friends, and he’s the one who makes sense. She takes another hit and hands the blunt back to JJ.

“I’d know,” he repeats, and she knows it’s not her he’s trying to convince. He lays back in the hammock, putting the blunt between his lips and dragging deep before tilting his head back and blowing the smoke into the tumultuous night. She looks back over her shoulder, watching his jaw and the movement of his throat as he exhales. Laying back next to him, she tries not to think about the warmth of his skin against hers, the strength of the body pressed to her side. It’s only JJ, the same reckless, stupid asshole who carried that damn pistol everywhere all summer and has a talent for getting into trouble. He’s not giving her butterflies with his proximity, and she’s not thinking about reaching down and lacing her fingers through his.

Eventually, JJ flicks the roach into the darkness and stands as quickly as he can without tipping Kiara out of the hammock. She starts, not realizing she was dozing on his shoulder until it’s gone. “It’s late,” he says.

She stands as well, tucking her hands into the pocket of her sweatshirt as he kicks at the dirt. “I don’t --” she starts, and the hesitation makes him stop his nervous movement, meeting her eyes. “I don’t want to go home.” He opens his mouth to say something, but she interrupts him. “I can’t go home.”

“Okay,” he says, after a second. He doesn’t want to be alone, either. She nods, and walks past him, picking up her bag. He follows her up to the house, and they stop at the foot of the stairs to the porch, staring at the buzzing light. JJ takes a stuttering inhale Kiara pretends not to hear, and he goes up the stairs first, wrapping a shaking hand the handle to the screen door. He pauses before going in, frozen, and it isn’t until she lays her hand on his shoulder that he summons the courage to push the door open.

They knew the place was going to be tossed, but it still hurts Kiara and kills JJ, to see the overturned table and scattered papers, the couch cushions scattered on the floor and the coffee table flipped. He tries to shuffle backwards, to run from the sharp, fresh grief and the deep, familiar ache of loss and violation, but Kie is in the way, and when he turns to escape she catches him, her arms around his shoulders, his clutched around her waist. “I can’t --” he chokes, his face pressed to her neck, “It’s not --” his breath speeds up, his shoulders shaking. “They --”

“I know,” she says, swallowing down tears, herself, in that same small voice from the night in the hot tub. She knew JJ was broken, on that deep, fundamental level that, intellectually, she could conceptualize, but she could never feel. But that night, seeing the bruises on his ribs, damning as fingerprints, the ghost of his pain, the whisper of breath knocked out and the brush of betrayal, turned her chest inside out. This feels the same way, watching him lose the last shred of some semblance of home to the same kind of mindless anger and selfish authority that claimed the first one. “I know.”

But she’s still here. “Kie…” he breathes. She opens her mouth to reassure him again, but then his hands are on her face and he’s kissing her, deep and rough and desperate. She bursts into flame underneath him, paralysis broken, stupefaction overcome, as the glass walls she’s been watching through crack and shatter at her feet. JJ’s hands wrap around the back of her neck and spread across the small of her back, pushing her up against the door, and she twists her hands into his shaggy, sun-streaked hair. Every desperate question is met with his touch, and she chases it, even as he pulls away in horrified shock.

“Fuck,” he gasps. “Fuck, Kie, I’m so sorry --” He tries to shove himself away from her at the instant she curls her fists in his shirt, and it almost rips as she pulls and he slams back into her. Teeth clash and noses bump and it’s not perfect or soft or loving, but passion born from desperation and terror of what it would mean to stop. Putting his hands on the door on either side of her face, he pushes himself off of her, even as she tries to yank him back. “What are we doing?” he asks, in a voice that won’t like the answer.

“JJ,” she gasps, pushing her fingers back up to tangle in blond, salt-sticky waves. “Shut up.” Pulling his mouth back down on top of hers, she gasps into him as his hands come down and frame her ribs, one of his arms sliding around her waist and the other pushing back up into her hair.

“Don’t you think --” he tries, even as he leans over her, their breathing ragged, his knuckles white in her impossibly soft curls. His forehead is pushed to hers and he can’t pull away any farther, sucked into her gravitational field, helpless to it.

“I don’t want to think,” she insists. “I want this, I need this,” This momentary pause is already too long, and if he stops kissing her, stops touching her, the tears she’s been holding back will crash over her and they won’t stop. The dark room is loud with heavy breathing as she catches the scent of him, salt and sweat and smoke. “I need you.”

His grip falters and the momentary relaxation has her pressing herself against him. “Are you sure?” he asks, and this is a choice, now. This isn’t something that either of them can pawn off as a mistake made in the heat of a desperate moment. He wants this, has wanted it, ever since he met her, but he won’t be a decision half-made, won’t take advantage of vulnerability only to become a regret. He’s giving her a way out, knows her pragmatic nature and her anxious need for well-thought plans. He wants her to think, even if she’s desperate not to.

He’s right, when he almost never is, but she knows that if she waits too long or lets in the doubt that expects her, she will break. “JJ,” she gasps, “Please.” His name, she knows, he can’t resist, not when paired with urgent pleading, and in this way, she makes her choice. He surrenders to her.

They fall onto the creaky pullout, still set up from JJ’s most recent stay, not minding the sheets and blankets wrought asunder by the angry police search. He can’t let go of her, his hands pushing up her sweatshirt, dragging over her sides and up her thighs, tangling in her hair like he’s drinking her in with his touch, intoxicated with the smell of peach in her hair and the taste of sweat on her skin. Kiara lets herself get lost in him, ride the wave of desire pushing through her, moans and gasps when he hits the right spots and closes her eyes as he lifts her shirt over her head and attaches his lips to her neck, his hands finally coming up to cover her tits, and the long careful fingers she’d spent so many afternoons watching prove adept at twisting and pinching her nipples and leaving her begging for him.

She almost rips his t-shirt off, pulling his bare chest against her own and letting the feeling of skin on skin light her up, setting fireworks off behind her eyelids. Wrapping one hand around the arm holding him up, she can feel his teeth on her neck, and she knows he’s leaving marks, and, for once, it doesn’t feel like she’s being claimed. She knows what it is -- proof this is happening, that they’re alive and feeling and crashing together again and again. She sinks her nails into his bicep as his fingers skim below the waistband of her shorts, and feels him smirk against her lips.

“Yeah?” he asks, and the teasing in his voice is tortuous and reminiscent of his old, humorous self, just enough to make her sad for a moment, and when she nods quickly in return, it’s a bid to forget that sadness. His fingers flick open the button of her shorts and as his fingers dip lower, the only thing she can think about, the only thing she can feel, is his touch, his all-consuming presence, radiating heat. The bastard takes his time, her only gratification the press of him against her hip, hot and hard. He teases her through her underwear, and she can’t say she doesn’t enjoy it, arcing into his touch, shocks of pleasure building in incredible anticipation, but he’s going too slow, and he’s wearing too many clothes, still, and the intense want gnawing at her has too much potential to turn into grief.

“Would you just --” she grunts against his mouth, cut off on a moan as he presses his fingers against her clit. “Fucking -- ah,” he works slow, hard, circles, enjoying himself as she tries to form sentences with his hands on her. “Fuck me already!” Because even this can’t be easy, not between the two of them. Because she’ll always be fighting with him, even with her bare chest pressed against his and his hand down her pants.

JJ grins, scraping his teeth over her ear. “What,” he says, still teasing, still bittersweet, as he finally pushes his hand into her underwear, “aren’t you enjoying this?” Slowly, much too slowly, his fingers part the lips of her cunt, pressing down over her clit before finding the wetness further down. JJ practically growls as his middle finger dips between her folds and he finds her soaked, dropping his forehead against the forearm braced above her head. “Fuck, Kie,” he moans, and he can’t disguise the wasted crack in his voice. “God, you’re so fucking wet.” He’s already drunk on her, every new sensation dragging him deeper.

“Your fault,” she stutters as he puts his hands, lean and strong and practiced, to good use, dragging slick fingertips back up to her clit and teasing small circles, rough, calloused skin creating delicious friction. And this -- this is what she was so desperate for, to feel only his touch and the way he pushes her higher, closer to an edge far away from the bleak grief of their every day world. He moans, too, as he dips his middle finger into her and she keens into his mouth, and she’s not thinking anymore, only chasing heat and skin and pleasure, the rest of the night foggy and distant, moonlit and blurred.

She doesn’t even know how much time passes before he’s kissing his way down her body, only that he’s fucked her so well with his hands he has three fingers inside her and she’s asking for more. He pulls his hand away and she lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched noise at the loss of contact, only to end on a gasp when she opens her eyes to see that he has his fingers curled around the waistband of her shorts and his face is hovering near her hips, pupils blown wide as he looks up at her. He asks her something, but blood rushes in her ears as her heart pounds and her chest heaves and it isn’t until his tongue darts out to wet his lips that she realizes what he’s saying.

“Fuck, yes, please,” she whines, and it feels like less than instant before her shorts are on the floor and his head is between her legs, his tongue on her clit, and she screams, pushing her hands into his hair as his mouth launches her higher and keeps her there, wave upon wave crashing over her until her legs are shaking, and when she feels the pull deep in her stomach and he takes half a second to breathe, she has enough presence of mind to yank him back up, slamming his lips down onto hers, tasting herself there.

“Inside me,” she gasps, ragged and raw and scraping. “Now.”

“But you haven’t --” he breathes, and she reaches down, shoving past the waistband of the shorts he’s still wearing, her hand on his cock stopping him dead.

“Now,” she repeats. And then, leans up to kiss him, slightly softer than before, as if in apology for being so rough, but more as a distraction as her hands unbutton his shorts and shove them down his thighs, her hands finding him again and stroking his cock until he’s gasping into her mouth. “Unless,” she says between short kisses, trying to keep her tone light, even as her cunt aches for him. “You changed your mind?”

He scrambles out of his shorts and boxers so fast it’s almost funny, but the laugh falls out of her chest as he braces his forearms on either side of her face, pushing her hair back from her forehead and looking at her so carefully it almost hurts. “I don’t have a condom,” he says, uncharacteristic worry trembling in his voice.

“I’m clean,” she says, her hands reaching up to tangle in his hair once more, to ground her, and disguise their shaking. “You?”

He nods. “What about --”

“I have an IUD,” she says, more grateful than ever for her liberal mother and her own presence of mind.

He licks his lips again, eyes dropping to her mouth before flicking back up to her eyes. “Last chance,” he says, like she’s going to change her mind and push him off of her, run off into the night and leave him here, disgraced and embarrassed. “Still sure?” he asks, like he’s expecting her to say no. She nods without hesitation, caught in his blue eyes, turned cobalt in the half-light. He kisses her one more time, and it’s laden with years of things he hasn’t said, and she surges up with urgency, not ready for the tenderness in his touch. JJ tries to slow her down again, to revel in the moment of bare skin and vulnerability, no matter how guarded it may be, but she reaches down, wrapping her hand around his dick, guiding him closer to her, and he’s falling into her touch, into her orbit, helpless.

She draws him inside her, his forehead dropping to her shoulder with a forsaken, heavy breath. It’s too soft, this moment before he moves, too easy to break, every sense on fire. The air is too close to her skin, too tight around her arms, like she could rip the fabric of it with the barest movement. She wants to be lost in him again, to feel separate, far away and floating above herself, not so torturously in her body, JJ trembling and present above her. “JJ,” she says, opening her eyes to find his, a split-second mistake, the next word hitching on its way out of her chest. “Move.”

He does, mercifully lowering his face to press against her neck, the eye contact too substantial, too burdensome to hold. The bubble surrounding them expands as he works her up to that blissful edge with ease, his mouth letting out a stream of filthy words about how good she feels surrounding him. Closing her eyes, she tilts her head back, letting her hands have free reign over his back, his shoulders, his arms and up into his hair, every place she wants to touch him when she watches his ridiculous muscles ripple under his young, tan skin. He shifts his weight, hooking her knee over his hip so his cock hits exactly the right spot with every thrust, and she cries out, racing higher.

She should have expected that JJ likes to run his mouth -- she only catches parts of what he’s saying, things like ‘so fucking hot’ and ‘sound so fucking good’ and ‘so fucking wet for me’ and as her moans increase in pitch and volume, he growls “c’mon, Kie, cum for me,” and she falls apart. He fucks her through the aftermath and she barely knows what noises are coming out of her mouth, her nails digging angry welts in his back. Just when she thinks she can’t take anymore, he tenses and spills inside her on a half-broken sigh.

Her vision sharpens as he rolls off of her, collapsing on the squeaky bedsprings, and the house is too quiet all of a sudden, the air once again too close. Her breath slows, the sweat cooling on her skin in the soft breeze pushing through the wooden walls, the still-open front door. Neither of them says anything, and Kiara can feel him looking at her, his blown out smile too loud in the fallout. She sits up, almost flinching at the light touch of his fingers on his spine when he picks up a strand of her hair. “I’m gonna pee,” she says, finding her underwear and pulling them on, and then, after half a moment, pulling his discarded t-shirt over her head.

Her head echoes as she steps over the scattered mess to get to the bathroom, like she’s walking through a tunnel. Her legs ache and tremble, and she wraps her arms around herself, numb and falling. She fights tears as she washes her hands. The bathroom is, as always, a deplorable mess, products everywhere and hair all over the sink. Her green bikini top is still on the floor from when she’d forgotten it just the other day, and that girl feels impossibly far from the one staring at herself in the mirror, wearing her best friend’s shirt while he’s naked in the next room. There’d be shame, and guilt, too, if the smell of John B’s deodorant didn’t choke her with overwhelming loss. Bracing her hands on either side of the sink, she can’t hold it back anymore, and sobs spill out of her, harsh and echoing in the small space.

JJ is behind her an instant, half-dressed in basketball shorts and drawing her into his arms, tucking her close to him, her tears hot on his skin. “He’s gone,” she whimpers. “He’s really gone.” He doesn’t say anything, just guides her back to the pullout and straightens the blankets enough for her to fall in. She curls up on her side, crying so hard she can’t breathe, and he climbs in across from her, pushing one arm under her neck and using the other to pull her against him, his lips pressed to her forehead.

Tears leak out of his own eyes, silent and soft to her earth-shattering grief. “It’s gonna be okay,” he reassures her, fighting the quiver in his own voice, his chin shaking with the effort of it. He stares into the empty darkness above her head, every jerk of her prone body another crack in his breaking heart. “He’s coming back,” he says, more to himself than her. “He’s coming back to us.”

When she finally quiets down, the betrayal of dawn is beginning to lighten the sky, the moon fading, and the idea of this night being over feels impossible. For a short while, they breathe each other in, her forehead pressed to his collarbones, his hand trailing up and down her spine. Her head aches and her eyelids fall heavy over gritty, exhausted eyes, but she still fights sleep, stubbornly resisting another day, the beginning of a life without John B and Sarah. “I can’t stay here,” she says, finally, pushing back from him. “I should go home.”

He reaches up to catch her chin as she watches her hands curled close to his chest, reluctant to go. “Kie,” he murmurs, lifting her gaze to meet his. He moves forward to kiss her, and she flattens her palms against his skin, stopping him even as her eyes fall to his lips.

“JJ,” she says, an exhale more than his name. “We -- I mean, I --”

“Shit,” he sighs, and it almost sounds like a laugh, formed from expectations he wished hadn’t come true. “Okay.” His eyes flutter close, and she watches him draw back into himself, close all the doors, like he wants to turn off the lights and pretend he’s not even here. But then, he looks at her again, gently smoothing a curl behind her ear. “It’s just --” he starts, and inhales again, wetting his lips as he struggles to keep his eyes on her deep brown ones. “Can we go back to normal tomorrow?” Her eyebrows push together a fraction of an inch, and he focuses on the wrinkle there, a thousand times easier than holding her gaze. “Please,” he says when she inhales to say something. “I don’t want to be alone.”

It’s the first time either of them have been completely honest all night, and the most he’s said in hours. “Yeah,” she says, agreeing without thinking. Making it about him instead of admitting to herself that she wants to stay, that she doesn’t want to be alone either. “Yeah, okay.” She allows herself to be kissed, to be held and kept softly. JJ twists his fingers in her curls, skims his lips over her hairline before pressing his forehead against hers.

He tucks his hand against the side of her neck, his fingers spanning from her ear to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. “It’s gonna be alright,” he promises, and they both pretend he’s saying it to her. She’s seen JJ cheerful and stubborn, breaking and angry, seen him a thousand different ways. But never like this, kind and soft, quiet in the grey, grieving dawn. Eventually, she falls asleep under his touch and reassuring whispers.

The morning is just as sticky and unforgiving as every other that summer, and she wakes up damp and sticky with sweat. JJ is stretched out on his stomach, arms tucked under his head, mouth slack and hair falling over his eyes. Her head still hurts, and now so do her back and thighs, and she stretches her hand out across the rumpled sheets, tracing the red lines she’d left down his back. He blinks awake, closing his mouth and freezing when he feels her touch on his skin.

“Hey,” she murmurs.

“Hey,” he replies.

She waits for him to say something, but he just watches her, his clear blue eyes unflinching. She bites her lip. “I should get home,” she says, keeping her eyes on the knuckle tracing over his back, his gaze too heavy to hold.

“Yeah,” he says, “okay.” Neither of them move. The world waits on a hair trigger, and JJ’s more familiar with this kind of silence than she is. She wants him to break it first, to be the impulsive hothead he always is, to make the choice for both of them. But he doesn’t, and the moment crumbles, and she sits up and goes in search of her clothes.

He doesn’t say anything until she stoops to pick up her bag, sweatshirt in hand, ready to shove it into the biggest pocket. “Kie,” he says, and she stops dead, looking up at him. She doesn’t know what she wants him to say, but she deflates anyway when he just asks “my shirt?”

She’d forgotten she was wearing it. Pulling it off, she feels his hungry eyes trace up her bare chest as she untangles the drug rug before pulling it down and arranging it around her hips. She tosses him the shirt, and he holds her gaze as he flips it right side out and tugs it on. They stand on either side of the disheveled living room, daring the other person to say something, move, do anything first. He knows what he wants, what he can’t have, what he’s convinced himself he never will. She remembers the line she drew, the boundary she’d very clearly set. He chooses to respect it while she waits for him to break the rules.

Birds sing in the unflinching morning, and a breeze stirs the hair around her face. She slings her backpack over her shoulder. The sun blazes as gulls call and waves lap against the dock. He tilts his chin back, like he always does just before a fight. She turns to go.

#outer banks #jiara #jj x kiara #kiara x jj #kiara/jj #jj/kiara #outer banks fanfiction #jiara fanfic #jiara fic #jiara fanfiction #jiara smut #jiara angst #angst #smut #hurt/comfort #PLEASE interact with this I'm LITERALLY BEGGING YOU

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tirednotflirting · 4 years ago

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you're the one to help me get to sleep // maybe i fell in love when you woke me up

oh boy that title looks a lot longer on tumblr than it did on ao3. anyway.

i got stressed out yesterday and finished some fluff bc that’s what we do here at tirednotflirting. forgot to post it here yesterday though so i am doing that Now post-first cup of coffee of the day and halfway through the french toast i made.

random side not but i’ve been listening to my time capsule playlist on spotify and i highly rec checking yours out bc this is So Fun.

here is this on ao3 if you wanna read there.

The sun is just beginning to set over LA and Alex is in love.

The day had been long but good. One of those California summer days that stretched on long enough that it made him wonder if the sun would ever start heading toward its resting place below the horizon. Warm but not hot, the slight breeze allowing them to spend the afternoon writing outside instead of stuck up in the studio.

He’s out on the balcony now, already changed into pajama pants since they decided they would stay in for the night, and a glass of wine dangles between his fingers in between sips. The city is somehow quiet from his spot above it though he can tell it must be loud from all the activity he can see on the street. It’s nice, Alex thinks, to find peace among the blaring white noise of Los Angeles. Today had been his last full day in the city, his flight back to the farm and his furry friends sometime in the early afternoon. He has his boarding pass loaded onto his phone and could easily wander back inside to find his phone and triple check the time so he could make note of when they need to be up in the morning but he’s not quite ready to start thinking about how he has to leave again yet.

Jack would also just immediately kick him back out to his current spot if he tried heading inside right now anyway. Over coffee that morning Jack had declared he would be making dinner for Alex’s last night (It’s romantic, Al, and I only have one more night to romance the fuck out of you). At the time Alex had assumed it was the still half-asleep side of Jack speaking but when Alex arrived back at the apartment after spending part of the afternoon writing, he’d been handed the glass of wine currently resting in his hand and ushered to the balcony door by an apron-clad Jack.

It was rare for Alex to feel this much peace on his last day of a trip to see Jack. Usually there was some element of sadness or anxiety over the impending time apart until more band things or another trip to either coast. But as he tips back the last of his wine and stares back out toward the last bits of light in the city sky, all Alex can feel is a fullness in his chest.

He decides he’s going to want more wine with dinner and given the time, he figures Jack must be close to finishing things up. Alex pulls himself up and pushes the sliding door open to call out toward the kitchen.

“Jack, babe, am I allowed into the kitchen for more wine?”

Jack’s head pokes out from the kitchen with a pout on his lips. “Five more minutes, Alex. You have to give a chef space to work.”

“Bring me the bottle then, please,” Alex says in his sweetest voice, his lashes fluttering. He can see Jack’s dramatic eye roll from where he leans against the door frame before he steps back into the kitchen, emerging a few seconds later with the bottle of white he had poured for Alex earlier.

“Here you go, you lush,” Jack says while passing over the bottle once he’s close enough. Before he has a chance to step away, Alex pulls at the front of his apron to briefly press their lips together. Jack drops a hand to the bottom of Alex’s back to hold him close, his fingers pressing into his skin through his t-shirt.

“I like the apron. It’s cute.” Alex compliments as he smoothes out the wrinkles in the fabric.

Jack’s hand runs up and down Alex’s spine as he hums. It’s an action that mimics the way Jack had been waking him up most days, and a lazy smile pulls at Alex’s lips at the memory of the fond moment. “Thank you,” Jack muses. “I only wore it because I figured you would think that, so it’s nice to know I was right.”

Alex laughs. “You wore something just because you thought I might find it cute?”

“I like being told I’m a cute boy. Sue me,” Jack says, his hand wrapping more securely around Alex’s waist. “Now go back out. I’m just putting things into bowls, I’ll be out in a second, handsome.”

Alex feels himself blush as Jack leans forward to press his lips to Alex’s temple before spinning on his heel and heading back toward the kitchen. As he steps back outside, Alex can’t help but hope that they never leave this phase of their relationship. This not quite honeymoon but not quite settled phase, where they’re so damn comfortable being with each other (in a way Alex used to spend hours awake at night worrying they would never find the path to) but compliments like the one Jack’s just thrown his way still make him blush. It’s a nice spot to be in for now, he thinks.

He pulls the cork from the wine and gives himself another generous pour before leaving the bottle in the middle of the table they’re meant to be eating at. The sky is just fading into dusk, the city draped in a blanket of purples and blues when the light above him clicks on. Alex turns from his spot to find Jack sliding the door open mostly with his foot, two bowls somewhat precariously balanced in each of his hands. Alex jumps up and ignores Jack’s whines as he takes the bowls from him and wanders back to set them on the table while Jack jogs back through the apartment to return with plates and silverware and another wine glass.

“Alright so if this sucks, we’re blaming my mom because she basically walked me through the whole thing step by step,” Jack says once they’re back at the table while he pours wine into his own glass. “Also the caprese salad was her idea since I wasn’t feeling leafy but I feel like romantic dinner date is incomplete without salad.”

“You called your mom to have her walk you through a recipe?” Alex smiles as he lets his head drop to rest in the palm of his hand while he watches Jack spoon some kind of pasta onto the two plates.

“Listen, you know I’m helpless in a kitchen,” Jack says while pushing one of the plates in Alex’s direction. “And it’s your last night here and I wanted to do something nice for you, damn it.”

“That’s very cute,” Alex replies before taking another sip from his wine glass. “You’re very cute.”

“You already told me I was cute. You gotta get more creative with your adjectives, Mr Songwriter.”

Alex shakes his head in mock protest. “I said the apron was cute before, not you.” Jack scowls at him while gently kicking his ankle. “Hush, I knew what you meant.” A smile pulls at Alex’s lips when he notices how Jack leaves their feet all tangled up together under the table after the kick. It’s silly, he knows, to get all blushy over such a simple, nonchalant action but he can’t help it.

Jack points his fork across the table at Alex after taking a bite. “Also my mom said to call her when you get back. She wants to catch up and probably bug you again about when you’re going to propose.”

Alex laughs brightly. “Well my mom was asking that I get you to Facetime her when you’ve got some free time likely for the exact same conversation.” He gestures down to his plate with a nod. “This really does not suck, by the way.”

“Our mothers really ought to be more strategic in their approach on this,” Jack says while shaking his head. “I mean it’s completely impractical that we both propose. And thank you, I try.”

“I think they figure if they double the effort they have a greater chance of success or something.”

“Fair enough, I suppose.”

The banter back and forth over their meal continues well into the night. After a while, Alex insists on clearing the table and taking things inside. He quickly cleans the dishes before grabbing another bottle of wine from the fridge and clean glasses and heading back out. Jack has moved over to the couch he keeps out there and has a blanket pulled over his bare legs, the nighttime breeze dropping the temperature enough to call it a cool night. Alex fills their glasses and leaves the bottle on the table before wandering over to where Jack has decided to lounge.

“For you, sir,” Alex announces while handing over one of the glasses. He takes a seat next Jack, scooting closer to his side to steal some of the blanket and drops his head to rest against Jack’s chest.

Jack hums his thanks as he takes a sip and wraps an arm around Alex’s shoulders. His fingers immediately move to play with the sleeve of his t-shirt as he sighs. “Is it selfish to ask you to cancel your flight and stay longer?”

“Not selfish but also not really a possibility, my love,” Alex says while tilting his head up to press his lips to Jack’s jaw. “I’ve got animal friends to attend to and you’ve got that trip out to see Zack to pack for.”

“Mmm, yeah you’re right,” Jack says while swirling the wine in his glass. “The goats and Zack need cuddles too, I guess.”

“Exactly.” Alex sighs as he lifts his shoulder, asking Jack a silent question that he thankfully knows the answer to. Jack drops his hand to rest in his lap and Alex reaches over for it, his fingers slipping into the spaces between Jack’s and squeezing to press their palms together. He smiles lazily at the action. It’s the little things about time with Jack that stick in his brain when they’re apart. The weight of Jack’s hand in his own, the steady sound of his heartbeat below Alex’s ear, the tapping of Jack’s foot against the ground since even in the quiet, still moments Jack has to find a way to expel the extra energy he always seems to possess. It’s all so familiar and warm. Alex isn’t sure what life would be like without the small details that make up them.

He isn’t sure how long they sit there, sipping and resting against each other while staring out at the light polluted LA night sky. Long enough that Jack eventually lets out a yawn that breaks Alex out of the daze he’d fallen into, the gentle rising and falling of Jack’s chest beneath his head acting as a lullaby of sorts.

“Bedtime?” Alex asks with a gentle laugh. He lets their hands fall apart in favor of moving to cup Jack’s jaw. His thumb runs across the top of his cheek, just below his sleepy eyes.

“Think so, yeah,” Jack slurs his words slightly as he leans into Alex’s touch. “Don’t you need to pack? We’ll probably need to head out at like eleven since your flight is at one.”

And of course Jack remembers what time his flight is at when Alex hasn’t bothered to check all night. He’s always taking care of him in the little ways. In the ways that Alex didn’t realize he needed taking care of, really.

Alex moves to stand and smiles at Jack’s pout when he reaches to pull him up with him. “I can pack in the morning. Right now I just want to cuddle my boy.”

Jack grins at his words and rises without any more protest. They gather the glasses and shuffle back inside. Jack steals them away from Alex once they reach the stairs and gestures for him to head upstairs while he goes in the direction of the kitchen. Alex pouts at the action and leans against the railing to wait for Jack to round the corner again.

Jack jumps a bit when he finds Alex in the same spot he left him. “And you thought I was a sleepy boy?” Jack laughs, something warm and soft behind his gaze. Jack takes a couple steps up, his hand reaching back to loosely link with Alex’s to guide them upstairs.

They get ready for bed quickly despite the half asleep state they both drifted into and soon enough Alex is crawling beneath wrinkled sheets. He’s just barely plugged his phone into the charger when a pair of arms pull him toward the center of the bed.

“How are you always so warm?” Jack mumbles into the back of Alex’s hair as his arms wrap more fully around Alex’s middle. He turns in his arms and Jack settles against his chest. “Not that I’m complaining since it’s freezing in here. But still.”

Alex laughs as he tries to keep his eyes open while Jack nuzzles his cool nose against his collarbone. He reaches a hand up to thread into the hair at the back of Jack’s neck. “Somebody’s got to keep you warm.”

“I’m glad it’s you,” Jack mumbles almost incoherently. Alex waits for him to say more as he continues drawing short patterns through Jack’s hair but he only softly hums and nestles further against his chest.

Alex is moments away from falling falling falling to a peaceful rest when Jack’s hand settles against the bottom of his back beneath the sweatshirt he stole from his closet, the extra layer of Jack’s familiar scent providing some additional security on his last night in this bed. Alex feels Jack’s sleep steady breath puff against his neck and in his final moments of consciousness, all he can think is Jack Jack Jack. His gentle laugh and warm gaze fills Alex’s mind as he lets his eyes finally flutter shut.

And maybe that’s what love is, falling asleep already in a dream.

It’s pouring down rain in Maryland and Jack is in love.

He’s only just woken up, his mind still cloudy from sleep and his eyes still locked shut. Jack isn’t sure what time it is but given that he’s rising naturally and not from an alarm or kisses being pressed against his cheeks, he assumes it must be pretty late into the morning hours.

It’s his first morning on this visit out to the farm. His flight the previous night had gotten in before dinner so Alex had declared it date night (Is every night we’re together not date night, Alex? Romance mode 24/7, baby.) and insisted they stop at the store for ingredients before heading back to the house. Once they were at the farm, they tended to the animals (or Alex did while Jack sat on the floor and let the goats chew on his hoodie strings) before heading back inside where Jack sat at the counter and told Alex stories about his airport adventures while watching him cook. They had tried to start a movie after food but Jack kept falling asleep every few minutes with his head in Alex’s lap so it wasn’t long before he was being pulled in the direction of the bedroom.

He sighs as the last moments of sleep drift off and he settles back into the land of the living. He’s yet to open his eyes in case the sun is peeking in anywhere in the room since he knows he’s not yet awake enough for true daylight. Two thoughts enter his mind almost immediately though: it’s cold as hell and there’s coffee brewing in the kitchen. Both of these things are a result of a third thing that Jack notices and it’s that Alex has left him alone in bed.

Jack would get whiny about the third thing but he knows that given where they are it would be pretty selfish of him. Mornings at the farm are loaded with more responsibilities than mornings in LA, and Jack knows the animal friends deserve breakfast and Alex’s bright, sleepy smile just as much as he does. Plus, his boy did make him coffee.

Jack takes a deep breath and catches the scent of dark roast mixed in with the scent of Alex (his cologne and the same laundry detergent he’s used since his mom would pack it for him on their early tours) before finally pushing himself up from the mattress and opening his eyes. The room is thankfully still dark since Alex left the curtains closed for him but he can hear the rain beating down against the windows even through the heavy fabric. Jack pouts then, suddenly worried about Alex having to wander around out in the January rain by himself.

He finds a hoodie and the slippers his mom gifted him for Christmas a few weeks earlier on the floor beside the bed and pulls both on before shuffling from the bedroom. Jack immediately pulls at the sleeves to cover his hands and considers going back to the bedroom to steal a shirt to throw on underneath the hoodie but the coffee hits his nose again and he continues in the direction of the kitchen.

The only light on in the room is the one over the sink and because of the rain, the kitchen remains pretty dark despite the clock on the microwave reading that it’s a little bit past ten. Jack wanders through the room to the drying rack by the sink to get his mug (the one he found in some little thrift store somewhere in Texas with the painted butterflies) before turning back to the island. He fills the mug from the mostly full French press that must have been made pretty recently, Jack thinks, as he burns his tongue a little on his first sip. Fresh coffee means that Alex has already been out to the stalls for the morning so Jack turns then, having a good feeling about where Alex may have wandered off to, and lets his hip rest against the edge of the counter.

From where he stands leaning against the kitchen island, Jack can see Alex’s head poking out from the back of the couch out on the front porch. He’s got a blue beanie pulled over his head and Jack can see his hands cupped around a mug and he can see the steam rising against Alex’s face. He pulls his phone from his pocket to check the temperature and rolls his eyes at the number shown on the screen but it doesn’t stop him from lifting his own mug to head in the direction of the front door.

Alex looks over in his direction as Jack pushes the door closed behind him to join Alex out in the cold morning air. The rain had settled mostly and a thick fog blankets over the property, the trees at the end of the road and pasture just barely visible. A soft smile pulls at Alex’s lips as he pats the cushion beside him. Jack returns the grin as he takes in the crinkles beside his boy’s tired eyes. Sometimes Jack forgets they’re getting older but then notices a gray hair when he’s looking in the mirror while brushing his teeth or notices Alex’s laughter lines deepening ever so slightly and it reminds him just how long they’ve been on these wild adventures together.

He takes the spot beside Alex and pulls the blanket he’s got covering his lap over his own before letting his head drop to rest against Alex’s shoulder. Jack turns to press his cold nose against Alex’s neck and smiles when he hears a soft whine in response to the action.

“Why are we having our coffee outside when it’s nearly freezing out?” Jack mumbles against Alex’s skin. He feels a hand reach up to card through his bed head and smiles at the feeling.

“You’ve been in California too long,” Alex teases. “We would have been calling this a warm morning back in the day.”

“Jesus, are we really old enough for things to be back in the day now?”

“We’re definitely getting there, love.” Alex laughs before pausing to take a sip from his mug. “Anyway, I finished up feeding everybody and wanted to keep listening to the rain.”

Jack figures that’s a fair enough answer (at least coming from Alex) so they sit in silence for a little while. They sip from their respective mugs and Jack cuddles impossibly closer to Alex for warmth as he searches for patterns in the sound of the rain against the roof. Jack notices the shapes Alex has been drawing through his hair change suddenly and he sits up a bit to see his face and pouts at the expression he’s met with.

“What are you thinking so hard about, huh?” Jack asks as he reaches a hand up to rub away the lines across Alex’s forehead. “Is everything okay?”

“Do you want to move in together?” Alex asks in a somewhat rushed voice while his hands pull at the ends of his sleeves. “Like here? On the farm?”

Jack’s hand falls from Alex’s forehead to cup his cheek. “What?”

“I mean, you should probably keep the place in LA since we’re over there enough for work stuff. And I’ve just been thinking that this feels like a good place to settle down and,” he pauses to take a breath and looks up to meet Jack’s gaze. “And I don’t know if I’m moving too fast but I want to settle down with you.”

“Al, I’ve known you for like, half my life. We’re not exactly operating on a normal relationship timeline here. I’d love to move in,” Jack says into the space between them and he can’t help but lean forward to brush their lips together when Alex’s eyes widen. “Though you’re going to have to teach me how to actually be helpful around this place rather than just sit and look cute while petting the goats.”

“Having someone to sit and look cute with the goats is an essential part of farm maintenance, Jack. Don’t sell yourself short,” Alex says while reaching to cover the hand Jack still has against his cheek. “But don’t worry. We’ll teach you to be a proper farm boy. Get you some boots and everything.”

“I want a cowboy hat, too. But sounds perfect.” Jack says before leaning in to press their lips together again. Alex pulls him closer and Jack feels himself smile into the kiss. Alex’s warmth almost makes him forget about the cold winter air surrounding them and his mind is flooded with the thought of a future where everyday is spent with the eternal summer’s day that is Alex Gaskarth.

Alex pulls away first and a giggle leaves his lips as Jack whines at him. “Guess we should go ahead and actually get the day started then?”

“Has to happen eventually, I suppose.” Jack sighs as he sinks further into the couch.

Alex laughs as he stands up, his hand reaching down to link their hands together. “Come on. We’ve got brunch with the mothers in an hour and now we’ve got good news to share with them. Moms love good news.”

Jack allows himself to be pulled up from the couch and in the direction of the front door. He leans against the wood once they’re back inside and pulls Alex into his hold while his arms move to hang over his shoulders. “We smell like farm and wet dog. And since we’re going to be sharing a home now, I think it only makes sense that we try to conserve resources. What do you think?”

Alex rolls his eyes and slides his hands up to rest against Jack’s chest. “Thank you for the invitation but I figured I would make up another pot of coffee for us while you go get ready?”

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“I keep asking myself the same thing.”

With a final press of his lips to Jack’s cheek, Alex heads off to make the promised coffee. Jack watches him head into the kitchen from where he stands in the front hall. He sees Alex leave the mugs on the island in favor of pulling his phone out to connect to the speaker next to the sink and a second later a song starts playing that immediately has him bouncing on his toes as he fills the kettle from the sink. Jack smiles as he leans against the frame into the dining room while he watches Alex dance around and softly sing while scooping new coffee grounds. He turns then and Jack is caught as Alex smiles and winks in his direction, a mouthed Go while pointing in the direction of the bedroom being his parting gift.

Jack blows a kiss and starts making his way down the front hall to the stairs. He pauses for a moment at the table where Alex had left a mess of different holiday cards he’d received throughout the season. Bright colors and happy smiles meet Jack’s eyes as he spots friends and their families and pets. He sighs and continues down the hall after a moment, wondering if maybe they could get the goats to sit still long enough for a holiday card sometime next fall. It’s a swirling, dreamy thought, but he spends the rest of the morning stuck on the idea of seeing their smiling faces and well wishes mixed into their loved ones’ piles of cards.

And maybe that’s what love is, waking up to the beginning of another dream.

#jalex #jalex fic #i said this on ao3 but i sent the first half of this to bella but not the second half so ignore that the grammar is probably better in the #first half bc of that #this was the first piece i've written in probably several months that's longer than 2k so that's kinda cool #probably bc it could have been split in half but shhhhhh

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likesomekindofcheese · 5 years ago

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When I’m With You (Ben Hanscom x fem! Maid!Reader, Soulmate AU)

A/N: Hello @may85, it is I!!!! Your Secret Santa revealed for @bowieandqueen11‘s Christmas event!! I hope you like it, I have never written for The Loser’s Club before and now this is the right time! I hope you like it!

Here is a link for the song at the end of the Oneshot, for anyone who’d like to listen!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P_VpBqHYv0M

Word Count: 2066

Warnings: maid/domestic work, a meet cute, drinking, swearing, a bit of angst, doggos, soulmate au with marks and the whole shebang and a bit of Reddie thrown in too!

You looked at the mark on your forearm under your stuffy black dress. A single red mark the shape of an oval, but all alone. No soulmate, no second mark. You covered it up before some old woman in a tiara could see you and spit at you for another Rose glass.

Snooty Architect parties made you want to crash your head into the wall.

Maybe it was because it was long, it took hours to prepare and hours to clean after, but that was not all. It was the people.

“Hey, gimme another martini, will you?” your boss asked. “And there’s something on your apron, sweetheart, wipe it off.”

You sighed. You knew that being a maid would not be easy. But the thought of dropping to become a stripper making a thousand a night seemed a little tempting that night.

You went into the bathroom and wet a towel to clean your apron, noticing a strain of meatball sauce, but as you squeezed out the surplus liquid you got a look at yourself.

Who would pay to see me strip, though? Your eyes looked puffy and your hair was a mess.

As you turned back to go to the party, you turned back to your senses to make it more enjoyable. There was beautiful jazz piano music drifting through the air along with some clicking heel steps and laughter that was small and polite.

Rarely, you would see a pair with the two red marks. It would peek out from a sleeve on the wrist or revealed on a shoulder thanks to a woman wearing a dress with no neckline. But there were a lot of double marks and happy faces to go along with them.

Armies of black tuxedoes and sometimes the glittery green and blue and red dresses the women wore would catch your eye. They smiled with bright pink lipstick and then men would take out a cigar occasionally, mixing it with the smell of flowery perfume and the spray you have been using to keep it clean.

And speaking of clean, there was a mess on the floor again.

Snapping out, you were about to run back to the cleaning supplies to fetch a mop when someone called

“OOOF!”

BAM!

You looked over and saw a man was lying down over the stain.

People turned around and gasped pretentiously at this event. You could swear the piano stopped too.

Hurrying over, you offered your hand to the man.

“I’m so sorry! I was just about to clean that mess up! Are you okay?” you ask in one breath.

As you got a good look at him you had to revise that second thought.

It was a handsome man who was lying over the stain.

He was slightly freckled with brown hair and a beard that seemed as soft as clouds. He was tall and muscular with high cheekbones on his face. And as for his tuxedo…well, you know what they say about a man in a tuxedo. He was like a walking ken doll.

Too bad it was now ruined, considering that said stain was over the seat of his pants.

You helped him up and led him to a back closet. Pushing aside from any snide looks at the sight of a man and woman going into a room alone together, you sat him on an upside-down bucket and began searching the containers.

“Trust me, this isn’t the first time this has happened, but I know how to clean it” you insist.

He looked down at his pants and then at you.

“Oh, thanks a lot! That’s very nice of you” he said cheerfully.

“I’m just doing my job” you replied with a shrug. A half-smirk made it’s way on you as you checked the stain conveniently on his gluts. It wasn’t a sight to complain about.

“A lot of people here would have just turned away…” he mumured, looking at the door back to the party.

You give him the bottle of the mixture you kept for stains and hand it over to him.

“What’s your name, by the way?” he asks politely. He looks down a little and puts an arm on his forearm, rubbing timidly.

You answer him with your name.

“Lovely, I’m Ben, Ben Hanscom.” he replies.

The party felt a little faster after meeting Ben, but once the clock struck midnight you sighed at the streamers and stains and bits of food everywhere. You had just gotten the broom and dustpan, ready to go only to notice that one guest hadn’t left yet.

“Ben? What are you doing here?” you questioned your eyes the size of the moon.

“I couldn’t just say thank you, look!” he points to his pants where the stain dipped.

It is barely visible.

“Let me return the favor, okay? I’ll help you clean up” he begs.

May 2019

Winter and Spring had long since passed. But your friendship with Ben had not. Just his face and the thought of his voice made every grueling day of scrubbing floors pass by with a smile on your lips.

Feeling a buzz from your purse, you looked down to see it was Ben’s name on top of that happy little green square. Joy buzzed in your guts as you sat down on your boss’s yellow couch, freshly vacuumed, and read the text, the phone almost to your nose.

Ben: Hey there, I’m having dinner with someone.

Now a different feeling buzzed in your guts.

Ben: It’s someone important. What kind of drink should I have? You’re a total drink expert so I wanted to ask you.

Someone important. Probably a female someone.

You texted back with an angry huff escaping your lips.

Y/N: Depends, what meat are you having?

Ben: I’m fixing a meatloaf. I know, it’s old fashioned. I’m a mom at heart, Y/N

IY/N: t’s alright! Well, since that’s darker meat, go with a bottle of red wine!

Ben: That’s perfect! Thank you!

Y/N: I swear Ben, you make buildings, cook, and you’re learning the piano! You’re a real Renaissance man!

Little did you know that Ben was roasting his mother’s signature meatloaf at home. The thought of your name made him feel warm, and not just from the oven.

Flutters aside from your comment, he reached over and texted.

Ben: You always help me give such good advice, it’s for my buddy, Ritchie! I haven’t seen him in years! I’ll tell him that the wine was your idea.

Y/N: Ritchie? One of your Derry buddies?

You got up from leaning on the couch and nearly let out a whoop, but stopped, knowing your boss was in the midst of his nap. That jolt of happy lightning was still going through you.

Ben: Yup! He’s coming over to discuss proposal ideas….

Y/N: Lucky girl.

Ben: Well, Eddie’s not a girl, but he’s lucky. I hope you like Pomeranian pics bc his new puppy is the cutest thing…

Y/N: Please send them!

He immediately sent you a picture of the sweetest looking Pomeranian curled up on a large bed, sleeping under the covers with his front paws tucked over like a polite child.

Y/N: Awwwww! Any name?

Ben: They don’t know. I keep trying to tell Ritchie that Punk Ass Bitch isn’t an option.

Y/N: How about Penny! Cause he’s the color of one!

There were five minutes of silence.

Not Penny was all that he said.

Tears returned.

August 2019

“I have never seen someone so disrespectful,” your boss glowered. From behind his desk, his shadow grew so large it seemed to swallow you whole.

“Sir, it was a mistake!” you begged.

“Not a mistake! An insult!” he screamed, banging his fists on his desk.

“Sir, please listen! I am truly sorry; I didn’t know this would happen! I didn’t know it was wrong! Here, let me take care of it, I swear…” you beg, your legs begin to buckle beneath you.

“Get out! You’re fired! And so, help me, I never want to even speak to you again!” he thundered, pointing to the door.

Nauseous and sobbing violently, you ran out.

But the sun was setting, and it seemed there was no one. Almost no one. There was one person you wanted to see more than ever now.

Nerves shackled your stomach. You hadn’t talked to Ben much since that day because you were so ashamed, but here you were. Knocking on his door, he opened wearing a button-up shirt that made you want to swear under your breath.

“Ben, let me just make this quick, I’m so sorry. I sent that text...”

“No, no, please Y/N, don’t worry! I’ll explain everything. You had no way of knowing, please come in!”

You walked into his house, admiring all his things. His black dog trotted over and smiled in a greeting, wagging his tail so hard that it hurt a little when it hit your leg.

Looking over, you noticed a picture frame. It must have been Ben with his family but…there was only one kid. One kid that had his eye color but not his body type.

“Is this your family?”

“Yes, uhm…take a seat, Y/N, I have a lot to tell you.” He says, rubbing his hands together nervously.

“And is this you?” you asked, still looking at the frame.

He nodded “uhm…yes. I used to be heavy. I was bullied a lot. I spent all my summers at the library too.”

He lifted his shirt to show his stomach. Your eyes widened at the sight of some scars.

“Some bullies got me one day and almost stabbed me.”

“That’s awful. You’re lucky you survived.” you comforted, blinking slowly and trying to see it in your head. The thought of someone hurting Ben made your fists clench.

“That’s an understatement,” he said.

It was in the privacy of that house Ben explained everything. Derry’s curse. Pennywise. The deaths. The visions.

“But Ben….” You explain softly “I understand…I really do…”

You begin to reach over for his hand and instead, he hugs you deeply. Warm, soft, and safe, you feel some of his tears fall down his face onto your shoulder.

Suddenly you notice for the first time that his forearm has a mark just like yours. After the shaking and crying have paused for a moment, you touch it.

“Ben…look…” you whisper.

But he is staring at you back, mouth open and silent.

And your forearm is feeling very warm.

Ben barely gets the question out before you pull up your sleeve and show him your mark.

Only this time, there are two red ovals, just like his.

December 2019

“The day after Christmas has to be the saddest day in the whole year” you sigh, swirling the drink in your glass.

The sky was dark and full of gently falling snowflakes. You were lounging on your boyfriends' seat and his dog was curled up next to you. The dog’s hair was on almost all of your clothes now, but with such a sweet face (and an even sweeter owner), you couldn’t care less.

Ben looked at you, in his cream-colored sweater, and grinned. He then turned to the new piano he got for Christmas and sat down.

“Funny you should say that ever heard Alex Duffy’s music?” he asked, starting to play chords to get into the right key.

“No” you answer with your head shaking.

He offered an arm and gestured next to the piano. You walked over and stood still, watching him as he began to play and sing:

“I walk down the street and see a wintery wonderland

The candles in the windows and the salvation army band

All the people wandering 'round in a sudden state of glee

But all of those people, they ain't me

I smell in the air pine needles fresh and new

And everyone's cheeks have got a pleasant rosy hue

They've got visions of the gifts that underneath their tree will lie

But to that I say: not I”

He then looks at you, and plays a bit further, only glancing at the keys.

For I've got a secret that no one else can know

That keeps my temperament even during times of snow

I've got the perfect present, one not wrapped up in a bow

It lifts my spirits high when I'm feeling low

Others long for the holidays, yes indeed they do

But every day is Christmas when I'm with you”

You keep listening to the song, then go around and wrap him in his arms. He keeps singing softly, for only you to hear.

Now some might say it's unfair and severe

That I get a Christmas gift each day of the year

To them, I would say that I've no guarantee

But maybe one day they'll find someone as sweet as she

I've got the perfect present, one not wrapped up in a bow

She lifts my spirits high when I'm feeling low

Others long for the holidays, yes indeed they do

But every day is Christmas

Yes every day I deck the halls

Everyday is Christmas when I'm with you!

He gets up and hugs you deeply, your arms entwined and your marks touching together. It snows a little harder when you both kiss.

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throughtaylor · 5 years ago

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haylor one shot bc i love haylor more than anything in my life

(back in 2012)

I could not stop laughing as we prepared for the presentation that we had in less than 10 minutes, it was our best way to clear ourselves, despite the fact that I was always nervous to go on stage, the band did everything better for all of us. I had the typical slight panic, perhaps because I thought that my voice could go away in the middle of the show or that I would fall from tripping over my own feet, that my right foot bent with the small heel of my shoes. Many things could happen, but all the tension disappeared as soon I sang the second song, in this case: Red.

Taylor! Two minutes." They screamed in the corner of the room, noticing how Caitlin put the gadgets on her ears.

"Very clever." I mused excitedly, making a group hug with my band.

I started up the stairs to get out, breathing a few times and practicing rough movements with the microphone, sighing and getting into my starting position until the platform went up and I could get out once and for all.

"And with her new album, RED, which I'm sure everyone knows is a success, ladies and gentlemen, Taylor Swift!" I heard how the presenter's voice screamed throughout the stadium.

The platform went up slowly and I noticed how the lights were off, the screams shook my heart, making me smile slightly as I adjusted my hat. I laid my body straight, listening to the State of Grace melody spreading across all the walls and seats, making the people who absolutely flooded the entire arena scream more. I smiled without being seen, raising the microphone to start singing. Nerves? Unknown word in my dictionary.

"I'm never going to stop love singing Love Story." I giggled, dropping onto the couch as I drank from my water bottle.

"I like the rhythm of We are never ever getting back together... well, maybe because I like to see how fans dance and raise their hands with each We-e-e." My mother dared to tell me, giving a little laugh as soon as I nodded, completely agreeing with her.

Tonight's show at the music festival had been sensational. Nerves disappeared even with the first song and the audience could not be left behind, everything had turned inside me and I was again the same Taylor who loves to be on stage.

I momentarily distracted myself with my phone, reading the comments about the show, smiling and giving some likes on instagram along with a photograph of my red loafers, without any special caption. I checked my social media a little more, going to change to put on one of my black dresses hanging on the rack, sighing as soon as my hair settled into a ponytail, combing my bangs a few times and applying the red lipstick that was on my handbag. I was tired, but excited.

The beige leather wallet landed on my forearm, walking out of my dressing room, saying goodbye to my family and friends, thanking them again for the great show we took care of tonight.

I made my way to one of the white doors in the pale hallway, daring to pull out my phone to send a message. However, a large hand prevented that from happening, immediately catching my attention.

I smiled at once as soon as I could see the sparkle in his green eyes and his cute curls, throwing myself immediately into his arms.

"Harry." I greeted his neck, feeling his tighten more tightly on into his body.

"Great show, babe" He congratulated, pulling me away a little and keeping his hand on my waist.

"Thanks, I thought you would show up today too." I commented doubtful and a little nervous about his presence. My heart turned when I heard him laugh, seeing the innocent smile stay in line with his smile.

"I think it will be our turn next week, I am not so sure." He almost joked, making me laugh. It was then that I noticed that he was also nervous.

"And... so?" I almost laughed, thanking the heels of my loafers for a better look.

"Let's go." A warm kiss fell on my cheek, heading us towards the back of the stadium to get out.

There were only a couple of security guards and the cleaning ladies, the night in New York was cold, with no winter yet. Luckily, there was no paparazzi or at least that's what I wanted to believe. Harry kindly opened the door of his truck for me and I gladly entered it, closing the door in step.

Harry and I had been dating for a couple of months. We became friends in Los Angeles and from there we decided to have a more pleasant contact with friends, but the things began to appear differently. Until now, we had not shown ourselves together as a couple, we both knew how difficult it would be for him and me, in some way, the comments were sometimes too cruel and the relationship we had, until now, was very calm... a lot, to want to expose ourselves. Harry is a sweet, attentive and very gentlemanly man, he is always looking after me in a good way, asking me every day how I am and wishing me good luck in the shows I have had to present. It has been a sensational support and I silently told him how lucky I was to have him by my side.

"And how are you, babe?" He asked while he started driving into the streets of New York, taking my hand with a cute smile.

“I’m great. I’m very excited for the upcoming shows we have. We have already started with the Red Tour rehearsals. ” I announced happy. He looked at me happily, smiling broadly at me.

"That sounds great, I look forward to free tickets to every concert!" He joked.

"Of course." I chuckled, looking at his profile. "And how are you, love?"

"Very well, we have also had some rehearsals outside of New York, I think we will have to travel to London soon to see the stadium of the tour." He commented.

"Niall was talking to me about that." I replied thoughtfully, remembering my messages exchanged with the blonde who made me laugh more than five times for just one message.

“Talking to Niall, huh? He even tells you the good news before me.” He pretended to take offense, glaring at me under his eyelashes.

"Never!" I reproached, laughing in my seat.

I couldn't explain it but there was such a great chemistry and connection between us that… I even managed to feel it. I really like him. I don’t care about the way of life that we both led, despite a little fear that it would be a problem later, but I know that it was not going to be a pebble on our way; It was what stopped me the most to think.

"Taylor?" I heard his voice next to me. I turned right away, tilting my head to continue talking. He smiled. "We're here, I think I told you twice."

I blushed, brushing the bangs away from my eyes a little while muttering an apology, taking the black bag in my hands to hang it on my shoulder.

"You look absolutely gorgeous when you blush." I heard him say.

I got out of the car with a smile, watching the porch of his house cautiously, waiting for him to get out as well and we could continue on our way. I felt the explosion of feelings run through me as his hand reached for mine quickly, intertwining our fingers. I still wasn't used to it, I didn't deny it either, but I loved that kind of gesture. I mentally measured his hand with mine, as it was quite wide and the palm of his hand took almost all my long fingers. I laughed in my head, letting out a smile at the thought.

I waited for him to open the door, greeting me with a gesture in the space of his home, looking around with great caution. Harry was a very simple person, not conceited or money-loving, even though he knew he was someone who received a lot, since he was also in the position of young people rather than millionaires in magazines. But his house did not say that. The walls were simple and the decorations too, but it was quite spacious, reminding me of a house in Rhode Island.

"Do you want something to drink, babe, hm?" He brushed his index finger across my left arm, circling my waist from behind, hugging me. I smiled at the gesture, squeezing my hands in his, letting myself be inundated by his usual scent and the unmistakable tickle of his curls on my cheek.

"Right now I'm fine..." I whispered, concentrating on the way he danced with me without some kind of music, humming slowly in my ear, as if he were thinking of other things, concerning me.

"You know, today is our third month together, darling.” He said, lighting up a click in my head.

I blushed, not knowing it, because I had let the small detail pass, being more than sure that it was tomorrow. Without thinking twice, I turned to him, watching the playful smile on his mouth. He knew that I didn’t remember.

"You confused me!" I exclaimed in reproach, hitting him lightly on the chest in the form of a game, accepting the laughing hug he offered me.

"You had to see your face." He commented, laughing.

Smiling and happy, my lips approached into his lips, enveloping us in a colorful and loving kiss. I felt my heart race as soon as I felt the small smile in the middle of the kiss, ending up giving me small, splashed kisses on the top of my lips, hugging me around the waist as I approached him. My blue eyes were lost in his green orbs, brushing our noses as our lips shared breath and space. It made me jump inside. I loved him intensely.

"You should have this." He broke into silence. Curious, I waited for him to continue.

It was then that the paper airplane necklace that he never took off slipped, suddenly hanging it around my neck, and it stayed down, contrasting with the color of my dress. I admired him for a few seconds, raising my head to meet his big eyes and shy smile, waiting for me to say something.

"We can become two paper airplanes." I whispered to him, feeling his hands once again rest on my waist. "Thank you my love. I love it. And I love it more that it's yours, that you want to leave it for me. ” I thanked him in sincere words, kissing him one last time.

"Two paper airplanes that fly, together." Harry completed my sentence.

"I love you." I confessed.

"I love you so much, babe" He says.

My favorite moment became the instant he pushed all the furniture aside, giving us space to take off our shoes, taking our bodies and dancing, with light songs playing from the kitchen. Our lips joined in loving kisses, our noses brushed and I closed my eyes, entering his soul and wanting to know what he felt, although just being like this, here, with me, he told me more than a thousand words.

#haylor #taylorswift #taylor swift #taylorswiftedit #taylor swift edit #out of the woods #1989 #candy swift #taylorlurking

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thorsstorms · 6 years ago

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Sober Me

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: Thor hasn't tried to contact, what is life like with out him?

Warning: ANGST!, Drunk Thor, Sad Thor. Acohol abuse.

A/N: a long awaited sequel to Drunk Me, one of my favorites, well I got bit by the writing bug tonight and decided to have a go. Also, I always picture Thor with long hair in these. I wrote Drunk Me pre endgame (im psychic I know) but was stuck on long hair Thor bc who isn't. Part three coming soon.

Masterlist. - Drunk Me. - Touch Me

Steve’s place was not far from ours, only a few blocks. For those that had moved out of the tower, they were never too far away. Steve was my first friend of the group, I met him not long after he came out of the ice, I answered his questions, and he answered mine. It did not take long for us to become friends. It was him who introduced me to Thor. The introduction was not meant for a set up, but he just wanted to introduce me to the people he called his ‘family.’

Steve had told me I could stay as long as I wanted, Bucky would agree with him each time, telling me I was no burden and that I had no rush but I did not like taking advantage of them. They had always done so much for me, ‘they’ as in the entire family I was thrust into, but I would not change it. I was just always checking myself to never become reliant on them. I had a good job, very few ‘friends’ outside of them though, but it was not like I could not get by on my own.

Four days of crying. The next morning Thor woke us three to pounding on door, though he would not dare kick it down again, at least not while sober. He yelled for us, for me. Before I could even sit straight up on the couch, the two make-shift bodyguards were throwing themselves outside the front door of the apartment where Thor was waiting. They came back in a few minutes later alone. They told me not to worry about it, to go back to sleep.

The second day was quiet until the evening. Evening as in a solid 2 A.M. I was in a deep sleep, exhausted from the day before, my mind never calmed down, wondering if I did the right thing. I woke up to Steve murmuring to me, asking me to come sleep with him in his bed. I was confused until I heard the loud voices outside the door. They were familiar. A loud yet eerily calm James Barnes, and a pitiful, heartbreaking plea of my Thor. Steve did not give me time to answer before pulling me away from the sounds and deeper into the apartment, he laid with me till I fell asleep, not complaining when he wiped the silent tears from my skin. Not complaining when I repeatedly asked myself why I can not help him.

Steve stayed with me the third day, Bucky ran errands if needed. Steve was my pep talker. Reminding me that I did not deserve to be scared every night, wondering if I was going to be dealing with a sad and sorry lover or an angry and sorry lover. It was not fair to me, I started to listen. It was quiet that day, at least that’s what I thought.

On the fourth I left the apartment, signing the short lease of the first place I checked out regardless if I really liked it or not, I just knew I couldn’t stay with Steve and Bucky anymore, it was not fair to them.

I could not miss anymore work so I returned, fully expecting Thor to turn up and embarrass me in front of coworkers. But he never did. The secret longing I had for him to just show up anyway, plead with me or tell me he loves me and that he was sorry was just that, a secret. I wished he would just show up so I could see his face. It gave me chills, a slight burn of tears to my eyes when I thought of him wrapping me in the biggest of hugs, just a simple hug, it was all I wanted or maybe a kiss for good measure, but he never showed.

A new routine started to show upon my life, an independent one. Always dinner with Steve and Bucky on Thursdays, it was my thing to look forward to every week, counting the days till it happens again. It wasn’t like I never saw Steve inbetween, but it was special to me. We rotated who got to pick what we cooked, never going out to eat because it would take away the craziness of all three of us dancing aorund the kitchen trying not to burn ourselves or fuck it up in anyway, it was made fun because we wanted to have fun. Simple as that.

It has been three months. I do not think about him as often anymore, going a couple hours before thinking about where he is, what he is doing. Does he think about me? Does he wonder where I am? Does he miss me? Does he still love me even though I left him when he begged me to not walk out the door? The guilt always hits me just as hard but I can not make myself ask where he is and why he has not come to get me yet, because I am waiting.

I wait in the mornings when I make a small breakfast before work. I wait when I pass the front doors where guests and clients walk through to enter the building. I wait when I am walking home, for him to catch up to me and say hello. I wait when I drink my tea and read some of my new favorite book before bed, for him to come through the door and tell me about his day. Always waiting until I was not anymore.

“Where is he?” My voice was not as strong as I wanted it to be, forever sounding more demanding in my head. Steve looked at me from across the couch. I was not watching the movie, I had not been for a while. We had seen it only a thousand times, but it was Buck’s favorite.

“What?” He questioned.

“Where is Thor? Why hasn’t he come see me?” I could tell I caught them both off guard, but I just could not wait any longer. “I shouldn’t have called you Steve. Now he doesn’t even want to see me.” It did not take me wiping my eyes with the shared blanket for them to know I was beginning to cry, they could tell from my voice. The two men shared a look, Bucky getting up to tend to the aftermath of dinner while Steve took his time speaking, moving closer to my side.

“No,” he says. “I’m glad you called me when you did. When Bucky saw you that night, he hasn’t taken a drink since. When you slept, he asked if I had a problem with it and I told him yes.”

It was good to hear, I needed it. At least some good had come out of my suffering. “Have you seen him, Steve? Where is he?” A deep breathe was not enough to calm my voice from shaking, but I have to ask, he has to tell me. I have been killing myself to know, does he hate me for leaving him, for kicking him when he is down?

“He… He is doing better. He is at the compound. Hasn’t left the compound in a few weeks I think.”

“He’s doing better?”

“He’s staying sober. There is no alcohol of any kind at his request, all dumped out.” What? I sit up at the new information, information I asked for. The tears have stopped themselves. He was not gone, not forever. I have to go see him. Does he want to see me? The yearning I had been feeling for months was shaken up like a soda bottle and the lid has popped off.

I left him.

Does he want to see me?

“Have you talked to him?” My voice is laced with urgency.

“No, but Natasha has told me that he is well.” Natasha, the one girl I was always afraid would steal my best friend from me, though he never let it happen. She never really spoke to me, only watched me like a hawk. She was the one who Thor had talked to, and he still has not tried to talk to me.

“Oh.”

“Do you want to go see-”

“Yes.” I want to see him. I have to see him. “Tomorrow, please.”

I should have called. Found a way to communicate to him that I was coming. Pepper or someone, surely could have told him somehow. It has been months and months since I have stepped foot into this facility. I only had come a few times as is, but it was enough to find my way up to the living quarters even with Steve trailing not far behind me. My eager footsteps were fast enough for my legs to be surpassing Steve’s stride.

I have not found him yet. His name was caught in my throat, scared to call out for him. It would sound much more pitiful than I wanted and I did not exactly want him to run and hide before I could catch a glimpse.

I abandon my purse on the back of the couch. No one seems to be around anyway. My feet are moving before my brain can catch up and I go straight for the rooms. One of these have to be his.

Each door I opened was seemingly barren, not a single soul or personal item in sight until there is. It was only a sweatshirt thrown over a chair that catches my attention, but it did and that was enough.

“Thor?” I question into the empty room.

Nothing.

The door slowly shuts behind me, settling just before clicking into place, leaving a slit of opening. His shoes are against the wall. The bed is lived in, where is he? I take a few steps farther in, trying to memorise his space, where he has been for the past few weeks. Laundry piled in a basket to the corner, proudly not strung across the floor shows his sobriety itself. The bed is unmade and calling for me to lay and bask in it, in his smell that is undeniably him. The bedside lamp is shining bright, he was always so bad at turning off lights. The small table is empty save a small book, a pencil accompanying it; he is in dire need of a new writing utensil.

The sheets are soft under my finger tips, I can only imagine his bare skin, my bare skin against it. Soft and warm, where we should be, where we once were. In my last attempt to control myself I pull my hand away and then occupy it by going for the small leather book calling my name. The material is warn and used, oddly comforting to the touch and reminding me of one I used to have many years ago. Mine was a journal, I stopped using it so much when I had another being to share my thoughts with.

“(Y/n)?”

My blood runs cold, I am invading his space. Where is my self control? The book falls from my hands, landing on the bed when I jump in place at the sound of a voice that I missed and longed to hear again. There was no place to hide, no place to busy my eyes so they meet his. They are so bright, brighter than my memory could ever do justice. They seem to shine brighter in the dim lighting, or maybe because they are rimmed with the normal whites of his eyes, not the red that I had unknowingly grown accustomed too.

“I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… I should have called first.” My feet were frozen in place. How can he seem to capture my gaze, his size seemingly enchanting. Is he the same Thor as before? Have I forgotten him that much? Memory has not done me a lick of justice in his time away, so much more beautiful when he is walking towards me, contemplating what to say to me. His brows furrowed, eyes bright with curiosity or maybe it was confusion. I should not have come.

“You are here?” His voice is so deep, resonating in the air and conjuring attention.

I am here, I miss you. I needed to see you.

“I’m - uh, I’ll go. Sorry.” I can not look at him, I knew I should not have come. It was selfish of me, my own selfish want beating out while he was trying his best to recover, stay sober. My feet make out to pass him, my head shaking in horror and humiliation, but they are stopped with his grasp over my shoulders.

This is all I wanted and yet it shocks me to my core, a hug. The kind where my senses are drowning in his presence, his smell, the sound of his breathing, his warm hands on my skin. It was all I wanted, but it still takes me a few seconds to return it.

Tears burn my eyes, closing them tight when I melt into him. We were never meant to part for so long, I should be here with him, helping him and encouraging him.

“Please don’t cry, little one. You’ve shed too many tears at my doing, I won’t have it any longer.” These were tears of my own doing, I missed him and I needed him but I left him when he needed me most.

“I’m sorry I left. I shouldn’t have!” His shirt is there to dry my tears. He tries to pull me back but I can not let him go, I need more time with my arms around him, with his body against mine.

“No, you did what was right. I needed to see, you made me see.” I shake my head against his chest, he does not know what he is saying. “Stop. I will not touch another drink Baby, I swear it.” I let him pull me away this time. He means what he is saying, I can hear hear the conviction, he means it.

His blue orbs don’t lie, “I promise a sober me, from now on. I could never hurt you, I-” eyes squint as if trying to shake the memory away. I know what he is thinking, he was afraid to touch me. “I will never hurt you.”

“Okay.” I don’t know what else to say. He’s trying to show me, just like I asked. He is determined, it is written all over him. He has failed many times in his life, but he was not out to fail me. All I want is for him to just kiss me. I have waited long enough, the reassurance was there, and I want him to kiss me already.

“I want to be good for you, little one.” His eyes show a flash of pity, he will not kiss me. “I want to be the best I can be before we continue, you deserve that at least.”

“Okay.”

It was whatever he needed, I want to be there. A few days off of work in a row and I was at his side. We took advantage of the lake, swimming, taking Stark’s jet skis for a spin. We wandered the wooded areas, we layed in the grass while he told tales of the stars, we stood in the clearing while he displays his powers through the skies at my request, it was astonishing. It was pure Thor, in his finest element. No hustle and bustle around us, no ideal to meet, no standards, just himself spending his time wisely with me.

It was Thursday. Thor joined us. Steve and Bucky did not say anything when they noticed his lack of affection save a hand hold or a rub on my shoulders. My obvious pining for his lips when he talked should be more embarrassing than it actually seems to be.

Thor was making amends, waiting until after dinner to apologize to Steve, and thank him all the same. Thor was healing and this is how he was doing it. Bucky and I gave our silence while they talked, it was not something I wanted to reminisce on. The look of betrayal on Thor’s face, the struggle against Steve’s grip, straining to hold him back. It was a flash that took me away from the present, but thrusts me back in with no positive emotion.

Thor took notice of my absence, my hand had froze on his leg. Comfort motions of my thumb coming to a halt when he brought it up. I did not mean to, but it was a face on him that haunted my closed eyes for so long.

I was quick to recover when his hand enveloped mine, this was about him, not me.

The night was good. Thor jokes, he actually snickered and joined in. It spread a sense of hope in my chest. He was here, with me, he was back. Maybe not all the way, but I would give him as much time as he needed, I would be waiting for the ‘sober me’ I was promised.

#Thor x reader #thor x me #thor #thor fanfiction #thor masterlist #thor fic #thor imagine #thor angst #marvel fic #marvel masterlist

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baepsaets · 6 years ago

Text

eight’s a crowd pt. 4 ~ bts

pairing: ot7 x reader

rating: sfw

word count: 6.6k

summary: you’re a bighit staff member in charge of stage set-up when you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the very seven men you’re setting stage for. soulmate au!

a/n: everyone... my beautiful followers... i’m so sorry it took me so long to post this! there will be one final part after this that will include smut. also i went to see aquaman tonight and it was so good. having jason momoa and amber heard kicking ass in the same movie made my little bi heart quiver lmao. also i want mommy nicole kidman to spank me with a trident. enjoy this update and i hope everyone has been having happy holidays!

disclaimer: i always put a read more in my fanfiction, but it does not always work on tumblr mobile. this fic has a read more already in place.

part 01 02 03 04 05

You were adjusting the sounding system in the pit when you felt a sudden weight on your back. You startled and turned around and found yourself pressed against Jae, who coddled you like a baby. He smelled like cologne and alcohol and something mechanical, vaguely oily and coppery.

“(Y/N),” he groaned, drawing your name out into one long sigh. If you weren’t so caught off-guard, you would have laughed. “We’re leaving early today!”

He was leaving early today. It was the last concert before the unimaginable—a month-long break. Set-up crew got to leave a whole half-day early, leaving mid-crew to pick up a little of their slack. But you knew they deserved it, especially since they’d been short-handed after you left.

It was hard to imagine that it had been a whole month since you’d switched to mid-crew, and even longer since you’d met Bangtan. Sometimes, it didn’t feel real. You missed your old set-up crewmen, but it was hard to miss them too much when there were seven other people around to eagerly keep you company.

Jae’s bag was already slung over his shoulder, and you knew he was about to leave. Your break didn’t technically start until after the concert tonight, and true to mid-crew form, you’d be staying with Bangtan wherever they went. The thought filled you with unimaginable excitement—for a month, you’d get to be with them without having to worry about work or scheduling.

“Remember to teeeeeeeext,” Jae slurred, clutching you to his chest. You patted his shoulder awkwardly, face smushed into his clavicle. “You never teeeeeeext anymore.”

“I text you every day,” you complained, your voice muffled by his flannel.

“But it’s not enoooooough,” he moaned. He was probably already a little intoxicated—a few people in set-up crew had already broken out a bottle of vodka in celebration, and no doubt Jae had already indulged.

You asked, incredulous, “How much more do you want?”

“I don’t care. I miss you,” he admitted, and you cooed at his cuteness.

“I miss you, too,” you laughed, pulling away from him. “But you need to get on the bus before they leave without you.”

“They would never,” Jae scoffed, but you raised an eyebrow. Sungjin would. Oh, Sungjin so would. And you could tell in his gaze that he realized that, too. “Okay, okay. I’m leaving. But I love you! I’ll text! Don’t think just because you’re famous now that you can get rid of me!”

He said this all while walking backward, voice raising with every sentence. Some of your other mid-crewmen stared at you curiously, and you waved Jae away in embarrassment. Your good rapport as a hard-worker had carried to your new job, but you still didn’t know the rest of mid-crew well enough to be weird in front of them.

You weren’t famous by any definition of the term, but you’d garnered a certain amount of attention in the past month. It was impossible not to, considering at least one member of Bangtan was around you every day. It was easy to pass off some of it as work, but the rest of the crew had to at least suspect that your professional relationship with them went deeper. No one had said anything about it, at least not to your face, and you were grateful that at least a portion of the people you worked with knew how to mind their own business.

Working for another hour, you were finally setting up the last of the lighting equipment. You were usually the quickest crewmember to finish your work, simply because set-up crew had conditioned you so well. When you finished early, you either helped set up the rest of the venue or went to seek out Bangtan to see if they had any time to hang. Because their schedule was so packed, they usually didn’t, but it was still nice just to see them. Their faces would light up whenever they caught sight of you, even to this day.

You reached up to adjust the light, and a warm pair of arms wrapped around your waist. Electricity buzzed through your body immediately. “Hey, baby.”

“Oh, my God,” you exclaimed. “Why is everyone sneaking up on me today?”

“Not happy to see me?”

You turned your head and saw Jimin smiling, bottom lip tugged between his teeth. He fake-pouted, and you had to suppress the sudden desire to wrap him in a hug and never let him go.

“I’m always happy to see you,” you replied, before you could stop yourself. Your face flushed, but so did his, which was your favorite thing about him—at least you could make him blush, too.

Jimin pressed his cheek against the back of your neck hard, and then released you. You kept tinkering, despite the sudden distraction.

“I’m glad you’re here,” you said. “The sound system on the left side burnt out this morning. We were able to replace it, but the sound check before the concert is probably gonna start early.”

Jimin grunted in acknowledgement, and you continued talking, back still facing him.

“And you need to be careful. There’s a slick spot by the—,”

“Mhmm,” Jimin hummed. His voice was closer than you expected and you turned around, freezing when you realized he was right behind you. Jimin’s mouth curled into a small smile, and he reached out to tuck a hunk of escaped hair behind your ear. “You look good in that sweater.”

“Thank you,” you replied automatically, but your heart stuttered.

Out of all Bangtan, Jimin was the touchiest. He was the one who complimented you the most, voice edging on flirting. Whenever he smiled his teasing smile, your face would heat up hot enough to fry an egg on your forehead.

“Can we stop by your hotel room after the concert?”

He could have asked you to commit second-degree murder and you probably would have agreed to it, if he kept looking at you like that. “Yeah, s-sure. I mean, yes. If it’s okay with BangPD and everyone.”

“We already approved it,” he grinned, unconsciously leaning closer. You could feel the heat radiating off his body. To the outside world the two of you may have looked like a couple, but in the past month, you’d slowly learned how to let go of the world’s opinion. You didn’t care what they assumed about your relationship unless it negatively affected Bangtan’s career.

“Oh?” you asked, smiling your own teasing smile. “Were you that confident I’d agree?”

Jimin’s face flushed, and that was normal for him, too—always so flirty, until the teasing was turned on him. Then he became a shy mess. “Well, I mean—not that we knew you’d agree, but you usually—and then we, um—,”

You couldn’t help but smile at his cute stuttering, but then your smile faded, stamped down by the sudden guilt and confusion bubbling in your chest.

When you’d first started hanging out with Bangtan, dazzled and starstruck, you’d thought whatever silly crush you had on them would fade. After getting to know them, you’d thought you’d come to love them only platonically.

But your crush—or should you say, crushes—spiraled completely out of control. Bangtan had thoroughly swept you off your feet.

How could you have fallen for seven different men? Being alone with each of them, or several at a time, filled you with such a strong happiness that was only rivaled by how you felt when the eight of you were together. Then, the world felt clicked into place, like a weight you didn’t even realize you were carrying was lifted off your shoulders.

“I need to get back to work,” you told him, taking a step back. Distance. You needed to create some distance, no matter how much it hurt. “We can talk about it later, okay?”

“Okay,” Jimin replied, pouting. You resisted the urge to pull him to your chest and coo.

You moved to turn around, but before you could, Jimin dipped closer for a split second and pressed his lips against your cheek. Face flaming, you turned to him with mouth agape, but Jimin was already backing away toward the door, lips curled in a teasing smile.

After he left, you absent-mindedly rubbed your cheek, still feeling the tingling imprint of his mouth on your skin.

Ten minutes later, your phone buzzed in your pocket, signaling a text. It vibrated again. And then a third time. It must be the group chat you were in with Bangtan, which could get ridiculously active. You glanced around for your manager and snuck your phone out of your pocket, just when it started vibrating multiple times in a row.

Namjoon, 1:35pm: So, party in (Y/N)’s room tonight?

Hoseok, 1:36pm: SWEET i’ll give the staff money to go buy snacks

Jimin, 1:38: remember to ask for TWO boxes of popcorn because :/ someone :/ ate it all :/ last time

Yoongi, 1:39: quit being so shady and just @ jungkook already

Jungkook, 1:39: IT WAS

Jungkook, 1:39: LITERALLY JIN-HYUNG

Jungkook, 1:40: NOT ME

Jimin, 1:40: WHAT?

You chuckled and glanced around quickly, typing a quick message.

You, 1:42: I’ll message you guys when I’m done with cleaning the stage and then you can come over. I’m putting the group chat on silent tho bc I’m still at work.

Already, your message prompted several quick replies.

Hoseok, 1:42: (Y/N)! <3

Jin, 1:43: We will not be silenced!!!!!!!!

Jimin, 1:43: HYUNG U SAID JUNGKOOK ATE THE POPCORN U LIAR

Taehyung, 1:44: lmao OOPS

Taehyung, 1:44: caught in a liiiieeeeee~~~

*Jimin has removed Jin from the chat*

*Namjoon has added Jin to the chat*

Namjoon, 1:46: Quit removing people from the chat just because they piss you off

*Jimin has removed Namjoon from the chat*

Yoongi, 1:47: as expected

“(Y/N)!” your manager called, almost making you drop your phone. You looked up guiltily and were lucky to discover she wasn’t even looking at you—she was too busy trying to keep a stage light standing. “Could you come over here and help me fix this?”

Sighing in relief, you pocketed your phone and went to help your manager. You liked your manager a lot, but she still made you nervous. You made sure to stay on your best behavior when she was around.

You held the top of the light while she screwed it into place, and when she was finished, she beamed up at you. “Thank you! And I’m glad you’re here.” Her bright look turned apologetic, so you knew you were in for some serious shit. “I have a favor to ask.”

“What is it?” you asked, cautious.

“Ji-sung is out sick tonight,” she admitted. “We need another crewmember in the camera pit. I know you don’t like going near the crowd, but you have the most experience with the stage material and I’d think you’d be a huge help to them.”

The breath left your chest. “I don’t know, I really—,”

“I know it’s last minute,” she interrupted, “and I know it’s a little inconvenient, but you’re our best replacement. It would only be for tonight.”

Your teeth clinked together, nervous. You were not a crowd person, and the camera pit was right in front of it. They were the pit that was most at risk of being tramped or attacked.

But you really wanted to leave a good impression with your new manager.

“Yeah,” you said, slowly. “That’s fine, (Y/M/N). I’d be happy to help.”

“Oh, thank you!” she gushed. “I’ll tell the camera crew. Think of it as a blessing! It’s basically a front-row ticket.”

A front row ticket in front of a writhing mass of fanaticism. Really, you didn’t mind people. People were smart—until you put them in a crowd. Then they were a hazard.

“Call time is 6:15!” And with that she flounced away, far too happy to be at work. Your manager truthfully was a different creature.

You let out a deep breath and shook your head. “Goddamn it.”

You distracted yourself with idle work leading up to the concert. It felt like everything and nothing needed to be done. You already knew Bangtan was busy with sound check and weren’t available, but that didn’t stop your from peeking your head in every once in a while to listen to them.

All you had to do was make it through the concert, and then the eight of you could finally relax.

You weren’t present for sound check, like you usually were. Instead you were busy introducing yourself to the camera crew and modifying their equipment. By the time the venue finally allowed people to start filing in, you were called away to help with lighting while the camera crew set up in front of the stage, so you didn’t get a chance to even wave at Bangtan until just an hour before the concert.

Walking into the waiting area, Namjoon’s head shot up immediately, and his gaze found your own. You smiled, and then the rest of Bangtan was turning their head. Hoseok waved manically.

You dodged a few frantic crewmen still trying to finish setting up before the concert began. Taehyung was the first to hug you, nuzzling into the side of your neck. Jin rubbed his hand along your shoulder and you smiled at them gratefully.

“We missed you during sound check,” Yoongi said, slightly pouting in a way that he would deny to be pouting, except it definitely was.

You sighed. “I’m not doing sound check tonight.”

“You look upset,” Hoseok noticed, and once he’d said it, the entirety of Bangtan circled you in concern. It was overwhelming in a good way, a flattering way, and you liked it because you weren’t used to people trying to take care of you. Jin cupped your cheek in one hand, analyzing your face.

“I’m fine,” you assured them. “I’m just nervous. I’m replacing Ji-sung in the camera pit tonight and I’ll have to be in the crowd.”

Namjoon nodded his head in understanding. “It can be overwhelming.”

“You’re telling me,” you muttered. “I’m afraid I’m gonna get dragged backward and trampled, never to be seen again.”

Jeongguk laughed. “That won’t happen, don’t be nervous.”

“We’ll keep an eye out for you,” Jimin said, and you realized he was smirking. “You’ll be in the front row. It’s the best seat in the house.”

“We’ll perform well for you,” Taehyung added.

“When do you not?” you asked, and then backtracked. “Perform well, I mean—not like, perform well for me—uh—,”

Jin laughed at your flustered expression. “Just keep your eyes on us the entire time and you’ll survive.”

You were certain that doing just that would be what killed you.

The eight of you chatted for a bit more until it was time for you to leave. Hoseok must have noticed how nervous you looked, because he leaned close to you for a second and planted a second kiss on your cheek. You didn’t see it, but Bangtan eyed him jealously.

“It’ll be fine,” he chirped, and you smiled.

“I’ll see you after the concert,” you told them, and then made your way to the stage.

The venue was an arena, and it was huge. The camera pit was set up in a small section in front of the middle of the stage, to avoid blocking a majority of the crowd view. It was protected by thin guard railing and a hanging sign that would do nothing to deter someone who was really interested in bypassing it. The second you stepped by the crowd your hair stood on end, but you put on a brave face and approached the pit, speaking with the camera crew. There really wasn’t much for you to do except help them with emergencies and fill in where you could.

You couldn’t help but glance back at the crowd. They were getting antsy, and so were you. It was like their infectious energy was seeping into you. You barely resisted the urge to scream when the concert began, and the entire crowd went wild.

The energy Bangtan brought to the stage was insane. It was like the entire arena was cradled in the palm of their hand. It didn’t matter who you were—if you were a fan, an employee, a stranger on the street—in that moment, they owned you. There wasn’t a choice about it.

It was amazing because at that moment you weren’t their coworker, or a BigHit employee—you were just a fan at a concert, who’d somehow gotten a really, really good seat. Seeing them perform so closely to you made your heart stop.

And throughout the entire concert, Bangtan kept staring at you.

You knew, logically, that they weren’t staring at you—they were staring at the camera. But you couldn’t help but feel like they were staring at you, trying to catch your eyes with their dancing and obscene hip thrusting. You were barely able to resist the urge to cover your face whenever it happened, giving in a few times when you were just too flustered to look. The camera crew, who were used to such a display, laughed at your embarrassment.

Sometimes they would point in your direction, stick their tongue out—Jimin, boldest of the seven on stage, laid on his back and thrusted into the air not one foot away from the lip of the stage, directly in front of you.

Heat was coiled so deeply in your stomach, you were afraid you’d explode.

Near the end of the concert, you got a message from your manager over your headset—since you’d done her such a big favor, she was letting you leave after the concert was finished instead of staying to help clean afterward. You were intensely grateful, because you were sweating and flustered and really didn’t know how much more you could take. You bid the camera crew goodbye and made your way backstage once Bangtan exited, the screaming of the crowd echoing as you walked further and further way.

Once in the back, you looked for them excitedly. It wasn’t often you got to see them directly after a concert. You were still hot and bothered, but you tried to push it to the back of your mind as your gaze snagged on them, all seven by the very edge of the stage.

“Hey!” you called, and the second Namjoon caught sight of you, his face split into a dimpled grin that almost made your heart stop.

He strode toward you, and you didn’t realize what he was doing until he swept you up in a hug and spun you around, giggling. Bangtan was right behind him, and suddenly you were in the middle of the sweatiest group hug you’d ever had in your life.

“How was it?” you heard Jimin ask, although you couldn’t see him through all the people in the way.

“It was amazing,” you replied. “Really, you all did fantastically.”

“It’s because we knew you were watching,” Hoseok declared. “You’re our good luck charm.”

You laughed and pulled your bottom lip through your teeth, looking away. A small smile curled your lip, and Jeongguk took you by the chin and planted a quick kiss to your cheek.

“So cute,” you thought you heard him breath, but you couldn’t be sure over the noise still echoing throughout the arena.

“Are you doing an encore?” you asked, and Jin nodded.

“Yeah, we’re gonna rest for a moment and go back out.”

“I got off a little early, so I’m gonna head back to my room and shower, okay? Come over whenever you want. I think Namjoon already has an extra copy of my room key.”

“We’ll come over the second we’re done,” Taehyung said, and then he was hugging you too, your face buried in his neck. “Thank you for watching us.”

“I always watch you,” you admitted. “I’m just never in the front row.”

Jimin’s grin was sharp and sly. “We know.”

You shooed them off, watching them glance back at you as they prepared to go back on stage. You waved them goodbye until they were gone, and then even peeked through the curtain to watch them from the sideline for a moment. I was just like all that time ago, when you’d caught a sneak peek of them before running into Jeongguk, except now you had permission to be here. Now you knew them. And now you knew just how much they meant to you.

Your hotel room was on the second floor next to the venue. You were still one of the only women in mid-crew, and had secured yet another room to yourself. It had two beds, and you threw your bag down on the closest one before showering and changing into something more comfortable. You put on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt and sat down to start browsing Netflix, looking for a new movie to watch. You thought, vaguely, about taking a moment to take care of the heat still simmering on low in your stomach, but knew you’d never be able to look them in the eye if you did something like that right before they came over.

After just over an hour, you heard the door unlock, and you perked up just in time to watch it swing open and reveal the seven people behind it.

“We’re here!” Hoseok hollered, and you laughed.

“And we brought towels,” Jimin informed. You noticed that they were still wearing their makeup, and were still in their stage clothes. They must have really come straight from the concert to your hotel room. Namjoon was the last of the seven to file in, and he held up a huge bag of food for you to see.

“We also ordered takeout,” he said, sheepishly. He knew how much you hated it when they spent money on your food.

You took the bag and shot him a mock-glare. “Go take a shower. You all stink.”

You were glad they’d brought extra towels, because the seven of them rotated through your shower like madmen before getting dressed and climbing into bed. You were sure they were used to such a routine, which explained how they did it so efficiently. You all chatted and ate while everyone showered, celebrating and laughing. It only took thirty minutes for everyone to get settled.

Jeongguk wanted desperately to watch a horror movie, and you relented and allowed it, all of you climbing into one bed. You ended up pressed against Jin, and his hair was still damp from the shower, and he smelled clean and fresh and manly. You had to bite your lip to resist leaning forward and burying your face in his neck.

An hour later, Jimin whispered, horrified, “Oh, no.”

“She’s so dumb,” Taehyung muttered. “She deserves to die.”

Hoseok curled further into himself, and you felt him rocking back and forth on the bed while you clutched your own pillow to your chest. The room was pitch black, except for the glow of the television screen.

The main character took another hesitant step forward, toward the murderer hiding within the house, and toward certain death. The scene was quiet, ominous music played in the background—you all knew a jump scare was coming soon.

“This isn’t even realistic,” Yoongi said. “The fake blood is too thick—,”

Namjoon interrupted, hissing, “Quit talking during the movie.” Not a second later, the murderer jumped out on the screen, making Namjoon yelp. You jumped, and Jin let out a shrill shriek.

The screaming on the screen was drowned out by everyone’s sudden gasp and Jeongguk’s maniacal giggling.

“Hyung—,” he tried to say, pressing his fist against his mouth. “Hyung—what noise what that?”

Jin’s face was red. “That wasn’t me.”

“Then who was it?” Jimin cackled.

“It was (Y/N).”

“Don’t pin that on me,” you immediately countered. “My voice doesn’t even go that high.”

Jeongguk dissolved into giggling again, while Jin’s face heated further.

“I can’t hear,” Yoongi snapped, still paying attention to the movie.

You didn’t know what time it was, and you didn’t care. For once, you didn’t have to worry about going anywhere.

Once the scary movie was finally over, you all decided to watch something lighter to calm down. Jimin picked out a rom-com that had most of you groaning, but no one protested enough to change his mind. It was fun to laugh, but whenever a romantic scene came on, you couldn’t help but eye them nervously. You were afraid that your ridiculous affection would suddenly be tattooed on your forehead.

In the particular movie you were watching, two people fell in love at first sight. It was almost like they were soulmates, and you sighed. It wasn’t that you didn’t like the movie, but watching a movie like that was hard when you were surrounded by seven people you loved but knew would never love you back.

“Have you ever been in love?” Jeongguk asked, suddenly. It took you a stuttered second to realize he was speaking to you, wide and dark gaze unreadable in the low light. You realized that the movie was already over halfway finished, and you’d been distracted for a majority of it.

You stared at him for a long time, lost in thought. It felt like the entire room was waiting for your answer with bated breath, and for the first time in a long time, you felt slightly uncomfortable.

“Not like that,” you said. “And I don’t know if I’d want to be.”

Jeongguk looked away, but Namjoon drew your attention as he asked, “What do you mean?”

It was hard to explain, and you weren’t sure how to begin. How did you tell these men that you wanted that type of love so desperately, you could taste it on the tip of you tongue? How did you describe to them how much it scared you, enticed you, beckoned you for more? A type of love you could only read about, hear about in movies. The type of love only shared between soulmates?

It was easier, pretending not to want it. Because if you pretended not to want it, then you wouldn’t have to live with the crushing disappointment of never having it.

“That type of love doesn’t exist,” you ended up saying, because you were a coward, and intimately aware that you’d managed to fall in love with every single one of them, so who were you to be so greedy?

“I don’t think that’s true,” Jimin said, quietly. The movie was just a humble hum in the background, barely audible. “Maybe you just haven’t found it yet.”

It hurt, thinking about it. Hope could be just as painful as it was uplifting. “If it does exist, I don’t need it to be happy.”

They’d ruined you, you realized. There would be no one after them. Any chance you’d had of finding mediocre love with a man who made you happy but didn’t light a fire in your soul was dashed, and all because for the first time in your life, you’d found people that made you feel alive.

“Of course, you don’t need it. But what if someone wanted to give it to you?” Taehyung inquired.

You turned your head and looked away from them, considering and contemplating fruitlessly. “I don’t know.” The mood in the room plummeted, and you couldn’t help but think it was your fault. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Jin whispered. “Sorry for interrupting the movie.”

“It’s fine,” you laughed, only a little awkwardly. “I wasn’t really paying attention anyway. Do you want to watch something else?”

They agreed, and finally settled on the first episode of a crime show you’d never heard of but pretended to watch avidly. Several of them glanced at you from the corner of their eyes, but you tried your best to ignore it.

By the time early dawn was creeping at your window, it was already decided that Bangtan would spend the night. Such was your routine. You ended up squished in one bed with Hoseok, Yoongi, and Namjoon, with Jin and the maknae line on the other bed. Everyone was so tired that sleep came easily, but you still lingered awake, thinking and worrying about the situation you’d gotten yourself into.

You needed to distance yourself from them, or tell them how you felt. You knew they’d never return your affection, but at least you wouldn’t feel guilty about lying to them.

I’m in love with you, I’m sorry. I need some distance to think.

It would almost be easy, but you didn’t want to see the look on their faces when you confessed. You would probably sound crazy. Who fell in love with seven people? They would probably think you were faking it because they were handsome, rich, and successful.

No, no, you knew that was your insecurity talking. But you also knew your friendship with them would never be the same afterward. You weren’t sure if you were ready to lose them.

You were so tired. You wished you could just fall asleep and not worry about anything until the morning.

“You can relax,” Yoongi whispered, suddenly. His voice was low and gruff and muddled by sleep.

You almost startled. Yoongi was lying right next to you, and you’d held yourself rigid to avoid touching him. You were afraid of making him uncomfortable. You could feel the pressure of Hoseok’s back against your own, but he was already fast asleep.

“M’fine,” you murmured. Yoongi snorted at how tired you sounded and scooted closer, until you had to actively fight not to sink next to him.

“Come here. It’s fine.”

You hesitated for a moment longer before settling down, letting Yoongi’s weight on the mattress roll you closer until you were pressed against his side. You rested your head against his chest, intertwining one leg between his. “Is that better?”

“Yeah,” you whispered into his sweatshirt, voice almost slurred with how sleepy you were. You wished you were at least coherent enough to appreciate his sudden closeness. “Are you comfortable?”

“So comfortable,” he muttered, nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head. He maneuvered until his arm was underneath your head, fingertips drawing idle patterns across your back. “So, so comfortable.”

You laughed and looped your arm around his middle. “You’re such a sap.”

Yoongi’s body was incredibly warm, and you angled your face upward toward his neck. You could feel Hoseok’s back pressed against your own, and you wanted him to turn around and wrap you between him and Yoongi like a Bangtan sandwich. You dispelled the thought a moment later, knowing that it would lead nowhere except to awkward heartbreak.

“You smell good,” Yoongi said, instead of replying.

Unconsciously, you took a deep breath and smelled him. He smelled like the hotel’s scented body wash and whatever leftover cologne he’d put on before the concert. “You do, too.”

“Did you enjoy the concert?”

“I always do.” In the dark of the hotel room, with the only sound being the rest of Bangtan’s steady breathing, you felt safely cocooned. It was like living in a different world, where whatever pain and heartache you felt could be left outside, and inside this haven you could finally be free. “Sitting in the crowd, watching the seven of you do what you do. . . you just take my breath away.”

He went quiet. You were almost embarrassed for being so open with him, but blanketed by warmth and darkness, you found yourself too tired to care. Yoongi’s chest was moving up and down steadily underneath your cheek, and the soothing feeling was steadily pushing you toward sleep, until he broke the still and earnest silence.

“It’s better, now that you’re here,” he admitted, in a voice almost too quiet to be heard. “You make us better.”

“Mhmm, Yoongi,” you murmured, face still pressed against his chest. You were so tired, and your body was so heavy. You would never get over this feeling, of being able to exist absolutely comfortable in their presence. Hoseok shifted behind you, and you felt the curve of his spine through the thin material of your t-shirt.

“Yeah, baby?”

You hummed again, slipping further out of consciousness. You thought you heard him chuckle before he drew you closer, hand coming to rest on your shoulder. You cuddled closer to him and sighed, the beating of seven other hearts lulling you to sleep.

~~~

You woke up that morning cold, and a little bit barren. You didn’t understand why until you shifted and didn’t feel anyone next to you. Your hand met warm pillow, which meant you hadn’t been abandoned for long, but was still less satisfying than finding a warm body.

You nuzzled sleepily into your pillow and almost hummed, until the low sound of whispering caught your attention.

For a moment, you were too tired to listen, but as the whispering went on, you slowly starting paying more and more attention. Then, you recognized voices.

“We need to tell her,” someone said. You perked up at the mention of a her—you? Another woman?

“We can’t,” Jeongguk despaired. “You heard her last night. We need to give her more time.”

“You were the one that was so eager in the first place,” Yoongi hissed. “You’re the one who asked all that shit last night!”

“Be quiet,” Namjoon scolded. “She’s still sleeping.”

You turned your head just slightly, and caught sight of the hotel clock—it was only six o’clock in the morning.

“I just feel like we’re lying to her,” Taehyung whispered.

“It’s not lying if we plan on telling her later,” Hoseok said. “Now just isn’t the right time.”

Jimin butted in, saying, “It’s been over a month. What if there isn’t a right time?”

“We’re being too hasty.”

“We’re being impatient.”

“We’re wasting precious time!”

You sat up in bed slowly, and it was as if all of the air in the room was suddenly vacuumed away. Taehyung made a distressed noise in the back of his throat, and you asked, “What are you talking about?”

Your voice was soft and gruff with sleep, but still auditable. Someone in the room gulped.

No one said anything. You could see them now, piled together on the other bed, Jimin and Namjoon braced on the edge while the other five cowered behind them. You shifted until you were sitting directly across from them. The blanket was bunched around your waist, and your hair probably looked a mess, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Your nose twitched, and you asked again, “What are you talking about?”

The silence stretched impossibly longer. Everyone was looking between you and Namjoon, but even he seemed at a loss for what to say. You glanced at each other their faces, trying to analyze them for weakness. Someone would have to talk—someone would inevitably break.

“We’re in love with you,” Jimin blurted out. Everyone turned to glare at him while you gasped, raggedly. It was like a bucket of water being thrown over you.

You stared at him, wide-eyed and incredulous. For a moment you were too afraid to speak, until you breathed out an uncertain, “What?”

“We’re in love with you,” Jimin repeated, softer, slower. “All seven of us.”

Unconsciously, you shook your head. It didn’t seem possible, and your brain was having trouble making sense of it—there was no way in Heaven or Hell that all seven men in Bangtan were in love with you. You were nothing, compared to the women that surrounded them daily. You were nothing, compared to the money and the fame they had. You were nothing. Maybe you were still dreaming, and this was all just an elaborate fantasy.

Jin was quick to do damage control. “It’s not as weird as Jimin makes it out to be.”

“Actually, it’s weirder,” Yoongi commented, dryly. “We’re soulmates.”

To himself, Namjoon muttered, “God, we’re so bad at this.” He pinched the bridge of his nose but didn’t move to speak further.

“What does that mean?” you asked.

“It means,” Yoongi continued, “that the eight of use are meant to be together. Every single one of us. We were meant to be together since the day we were born.”

“It’s not something we can explain easily,” Hoseok winced. “But the seven of us already knew what to expect, when it happened. Meeting your soulmate is like finding a missing part of yourself. It’s touching another person and knowing they hold a piece of you.”

“It’s looking into someone else’s gaze and seeing yourself reflected back at you,” Taehyung added.

“It’s filling a hole in your heart without even realizing it was there,” Jeongguk finished, quietly.

Namjoon decided to interrupt, saying, “We know it’s hard for someone who hasn’t seen it before to understand. That’s why we haven’t said anything until now.”

You looked up at the ceiling, not sure what to say. A part of you wished they would have told you sooner, but another part knew you wouldn’t have been ready to hear it.

“Didn’t you feel something?” Jimin asked, leaning forward on the bed. “When we first met, when we were finally all together? Didn’t something about it just feel right?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered, and your voice was embarrassingly weak. “I—uh—,”

You must be going insane. Soulmates didn’t exist, and if they did, you certainly would have seven of them—and they certainly wouldn’t be the entirety of Bangtan. All talented, handsome, special—and then plain, boring you? Nothing about it made sense when it was laid out in front of you, logical and analyzed.

But you couldn’t forget that feeling you’d had, when you’d first met them—all the heated touches, the electricity, how comfortable they made you. That feeling you’d had in the car, when Namjoon had shut the door and suddenly the world didn’t spin on a titled axis, suddenly a layer of static was lifted from your brain, and for once you could be at peace.

You couldn’t forget the rightness, buried deep in your chest.

“Why me?” you asked them. “I just don’t see why me.”

“Because you’re the only person in the world meant just for us,” Jeongguk breathed, and his voice was reverent, and the seven of them looked at you like you were something to be worshiped.

And it was too much. Your insecurity, your confusion—they pilled on top of each other and multiplied and multiplied, filling your body and your chest and it was too much.

You stood abruptly, startling them. “I think I need to leave.”

“Don’t go,” Jimin immediately begged, reaching out to you.

You took a step back. “I-I’m sorry. I need to think. I can’t think clearly when you’re all here.”

“Then we can leave,” Namjoon started to say. “This is your hotel room—,”

But you turned before they could stand, and you were out of the hotel room before they had time to stop you.

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the-quiet-winds · 6 years ago

Text

Clouds of Rain and Sun (part two)

i’m blown away you guys.

i was so scared to post part one bc i thought no one would want to read it, but the response was just...amazing.

thank you all. @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts poured our hearts into this and you guys seem to be loving it. thank you, honestly.

anywho, this is part two and uh... trigger warning: discussions of sexual assault, assault in the current time (hopefully that’s enough without spoiling it all).

[Part 2: Prevailing Westerlies and Falling Pressure]

jane is woken the next morning by the door opening and she yawns, propping herself up on the pillows. it isn’t katherine who enters the room, however, but another of her ladies in waiting, Lady Agnes. Lady Agnes was an older woman who had attended the previous two queens, stern and no-nonsense, and she was wearing her usual expression of general haughtiness as she places a breakfast tray down on jane’s bed.

“good morning, your highness,” she says briskly. “my sincerest apologies for the lateness of your breakfast. your newest lady in waiting was supposed to bring it to you, but she overslept. don’t worry, i have already dealt with her.” she shakes her head with an air of annoyance. “only been here one night and already causing disruption.”

jane fights to hide her surprise at those words and puts on a face of false seriousness. “ah, yes, thank you, lady agnes. you are dismissed.” the lady curtsies perfectly and exits the room.

jane can barely stomach the breakfast before her, thinking of katherine, hoping that agnes hadn’t been too hard on her. unfortunately, she remembers what happened last time someone fell short on their duties. later, she decides, she will send someone to fetch katherine for her.

jane eats as much of her breakfast as she can stand, forcing it down with the knowledge that she needs to get better as soon as she can. after over two weeks of bed rest she couldn’t wait to get back to normal life, not least to get to take care of her son. mostly, though, she misses the company. her ladies in waiting weren’t necessarily perfect, but some were good companions in their own rights, and she can’t help but feel that, with just a little bit of coaxing, katherine would be brought out of her shell.

it isn’t all that much later when the physician enters, a kindly older gentleman by the name of egert who had served the tudor household since catherine of aragon had first arrived from spain.

“good morning, your highness,” he greets with a bow. “how are you feeling this morning? we should be getting you out of bed fairly soon, if you’re feeling up to it that is, perhaps even this morning?”

jane smiles, relieved. “that sounds perfect. I’d like to get out of this bed as soon as possible.”

“then we shall try our very best to make that happen,” the physician says with a twinkle in his eye. he hands jane a small bottle containing the medicine she had been taking every morning; a herbal remedy containing sage and lavender. “drink up, your highness, and then i shall bleed you before we try to get you out of bed.”

jane sighs but agrees. the sooner she could get out of this bed, the better.

she drinks, she bleeds, then egert finally feels confident in her ability to stand. jane fights a pained smile at remembering last night’s expedition.

“how far can i go?” she asks once she found her balance.

egert looks her over critically, then softens. “probably not farther than your son’s room, but anywhere in between.”

she smiles, knowing exactly whose room was next to edward’s.

egert packs up his tools into his medicine bag, then sends jane a kind smile. “would you care to go on a walk, your highness? i could accompany you to the young prince’s chamber before i leave to make sure everything goes smoothly. I’m sure edward will be delighted to see his mother.”

“yes, that would be lovely,” jane agrees. she would love to see her son, but also one particular lady in the next room.

the walk down the stairs is fairly quiet and slow, but jane can’t help but light up when she finally reaches edward’s room. egert bows deeply and sets off, knowing another of jane’s ladies would assist her to walk back.

jane waits for several moments, cradling her young son and holding him close, before kissing his forehead and setting him down. she slowly makes her way to the next room over and knocking quietly after making sure the corridor was empty.

“katherine?”

there’s no reply from inside, and jane wonders if katherine is somewhere else until quiet footsteps sound from the other side of the door. it slowly opens and katherine peeks around the door, eyes red and puffy. “your highne-” she begins before suddenly remembering. “jane. what can i do for you?” her voice is shaky and she doesn’t meet jane’s eyes.”

jane frowns at her. agnes really did take things to far, she thought with a grimace.

very gently, she pushes katherine back into the room and closes the door behind her. “what happened, katherine?” she asks softly. when katherine doesn’t respond, jane places a hand on her upper arm. “kat, you can tell me. no harm will come to you for the truth or anything else.”

katherine is silent for a moment, before she lets out a quiet sniffle.

“i- it took me so long to get to sleep, and i guess by the time I finally did i was so tired that i didn’t wake up when i was supposed to, and then one of the other ladies, she-” katherine bursts into tears. “i’m sorry,” she sobs. “i don’t mean to get upset, i just...” she doesn’t finish her sentence, too overwhelmed by the tears streaming from her eyes.

a maternal instinct in jane’s mind clicks into place and she very carefully pulls katherine into a light embrace. “i know lady agnes can be very stern, dear, but whatever she said or did, it does not come from me.” she gently strokes her fingers up and down katherine’s back. “it’s alright, kat,” she whispers.

katherine just sits there in jane’s arms, body trembling slightly as she sobs. part of her mind registers how embarrassing it is to be crying like this in front of her queen, and the thought makes her sob even harder.

“lady agnes said,” she manages to choke out, “that you didn’t have use for lazy girls like me, and that you’d send me back to my step-grandmother’s house.”

“oh no, love, you do wonderful at your job.” jane takes what she says at face value first. “well wouldn’t you rather go back with your family? perhaps it isn’t so lonely.”

this only makes katherine tremble and shake more as she violently shakes her head. “katherine?” jane asks, noticing katherine’s change in emotion. “what’s wrong, dear?”

“don’t make me go back,” katherine practically whimpers. “please don’t make me.”

“katherine,” jane says softly, concern clear in her expression. “of course i won’t make you go back. but please, love, tell me what the matter is.”

katherine just shakes her head desperately, unable to speak.

jane, without ever lessening her grip on katherine, guides her over to the small and stiff bed by the wall, sitting them down.

“oh kat,” jane whispers. “i want to help you, just please tell me what i can do.” an odd and seemingly random thought occurs to her. “whatever it is, i will not judge you, or think of you any different, you have my honor.”

katherine takes a shaky breath and stares down at her hands. “my step-grandma’s secretary,” she begins quietly, voice trembling. “he- he told me we had a connection. and i didn’t want to, but he said we’d get married, and-” she stops, unable to say any more. jane stares, incredibly concerned. she was desperately hoping katherine wasn’t heading where jane thought she was with her story. “what happened, katherine?” she says softly. katherine chokes out a sob instead. “I can’t,” she hiccups. “don’t make me say it.”

“katherine,” jane suddenly says very seriously. “i’m going to ask you a question, alright? and you’re going to answer with yes or no.” she feels katherine stiffen against her, so she softens her tone. “my promise to you still stands, love, i won’t judge you, on my honor.” jane draws in a long, slow breath, really not wanting to know the answer but feeling the need to ask anyway. “did he ever...force himself on you?”

katherine is very, very still for several moments. then she gives the tiniest nod and jane’s heart breaks.

“oh, kat,” she breathes. “oh, love, i’m so sorry.” katherine practically shatters in her arms, the weight of finally telling someone what happened making the pain all too real again. she sobs desperately into jane’s shoulder as jane cradles her.

jane holds her close, letting her pour all of her pain out. “he can’t hurt you anymore,” jane murmurs comfortingly. “not while you’re here.” she gently tucks some of katherine’s wild hair behind her ear. “not as long as i’m queen.”

somewhere in katherine’s mind, she is screaming that ‘she is your queen, damn it,’ but she didn’t care, not at that moment.

jane feels like she is slapped in the face when she makes a seemingly random realization that should have been so clear. “kat, love,” she whispers very quietly. “this wasn’t the first time, was it.” it comes out as less of a question and more of a statement.

katherine manages a tiny head shake and jane’s heart sinks.

“nobody’s going to hurt you,” she whispers, almost fiercely. “i’ll make sure of it. nobody will ever hurt you again.”

katherine’s tears keep flowing, despite her feeling as if she couldn’t possibly have any left. she clings to jane, her mind completely ignoring the part of her that said it was completely unprofessional to act like this in front of her queen.

“it’s okay, love,” jane soothes. “i promise, you’re safe here.” her soothing and quiet voice gives way to a seething hiss. “none of those rotten bastards will ever lay a finger on you again.”

she hears katherine make an indistinguishable whimper and jane holds her slightly closer. without really thinking, she presses a light kiss into katherine’s hair.

there’s something about being in jane’s arms that feels safe and comforting, not restricting and suffocating like it can often feel. when she feels jane kiss the top of her head katherine is suddenly transported back to being very small, sat on her mother’s lap as she sewed and katherine watched, her mother absent-mindedly kissing the top of her head between stitches. katherine’s body loses almost all ability to keep herself up, becoming a dead weight in jane’s arms as her emotions keep her overwhelmed.

jane feels katherine relax into her hold, becoming nothing more than a slack form of tears, and jane feels a pull in her heart towards the young lady in waiting she met only yesterday. she can’t think of anything to say that she hasn’t already said, so she just kisses katherine’s head again and holds her, pouring as much love as possible into the embrace. “you’re safe here, love. always,” she accidentally mumbles aloud.

in between sobs and shaky breaths, katherine just about manages a tiny “thank you,” and jane promises to herself that anyone who dared to come near katherine would face the full wrath of a queen raining down on them. she rubs soothing circles on katherine’s back and soon katherine seems to have cried herself out, face still buried in jane’s shoulder,

that wrath, in fact, is tested only a few short days later.

jane, as instructed by her physician, was to take one lap around the top floor of the castle every day around three in the afternoon to stretch her legs. she is only about half way through her walk when she hears rustling from an old storeroom. she gets closer, and there is definitely something wrong.

she tears the door open and her jaw nearly drops. one of the stable boys, terrance, she thinks his name is, has katherine pinned against the wall, both hands held above her head. both of them are still fully clothed, which jane thanks every lucky star in the sky for.

terrance, however, has no idea that he is being watched, and goes back to hungrily kissing katherine, derogatory words falling from his lips whenever he pulled back for a breath.

katherine has her eyes squeezed shut desperately, body completely frozen in terror. there’s tear tracks on her cheeks and there’s an angry-looking red mark on her chin, as if she’d been grabbed tightly or maybe hit, jane isn’t sure which. anger surges through jane’s body.

“what’s going on here?” she practically spits, and terrance jumps back in surprise.

“y-your highness!” he stutters

terrance, naive and stupid terrance, tries to make it all roll in his favor. “it was her idea, miss!” he insists. “she practically begged me to do this, even though i knew it was wrong. you really must believe me, your highness.”

katherine knows what’s coming. she waits for the ‘adult’ of the conversation to begin their beseeching of her, the ‘seductress’, the ‘temptress’, or even more foul words.

“terrance,” jane begins, and her voice is dangerously even. “i could have you arrested for forcing yourself upon one of my ladies in waiting. if it weren’t for the fact it might hurt katherine, I would do it. but know this, terrance; if you ever even look in her direction ever again, I won’t hesitate to call the guards on you. do you understand me?”

terrance gapes at her, eyes dull and confused.

he splutters a few incoherent syllables, unable to even formulate a full acknowledgement before he bolts from the room.

jane’s chest heaves with anger as he leaves, which immediately diminishes when she looks at katherine, still frozen and stuck to the wall.

“katherine?” she quietly asks. “kat, love, can you hear me?”

katherine could hear her; she’d been hyper aware of her surroundings, waiting for the moment where jane blames her and katherine gets sent away in disgrace. she still believes it’s coming, and she can’t bring herself to move, not even turn her head, out of fear of what was going to happen next.

a horrible thought runs through her; maybe if she hadn’t tried to resist terrance and fight him off at the beginning then he could have taken what he wanted and be done by now, and then they wouldn’t have got caught. this was her fault, why did she even think trying to resist would work in the first place, she couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid-

katherine’s breathing escalates rapidly until she’s practically hyperventilating, body sinking to the floor as the energy to keep herself standing leaves her.

jane watches in horror as katherine’s back slides down the wall and she crumbles to the floor. she closes the door to the room and slowly sits down across from katherine.

“katherine? love?” jane tries again. “it’s jane, you’re okay, you’re alright,” she says in a calm, soft voice. “no one is going to hurt you now. he’ll never come near you again.” jane can still see the terror flashing through katherine’s eyes, so she gently puts a hand on one of katherine’s knees, thumb moving back and forth comfortingly.

“he will,” katherine chokes out. “they always do.” her shallow breaths are wheezing and painful and jane’s heart breaks for this girl. determination runs through her, though, and an idea comes to her as to how she could protect katherine.

“katherine, sweetheart,” she says softly. “how would you like to become my personal companion? your room would be moved next to mine, and you would accompany me during my day.” she was hoping first that her words were getting through to katherine, and secondly that katherine understood her meaning; if she was with jane, had jane’s supervision all day every day, then nobody would be able to hurt her again.

everything is still for several long seconds. then katherine gives the tiniest of silent nods and jane smiles slightly.

“i’ll arrange it immediately,” she says. but, in reality, ‘immediately’ she needs to help katherine calm down so that’s exactly what she tries to do.

“kat, love, can you take some deep breaths for me?” she forces herself to do the same, long and slow. “just match me, love, in and out.”

katherine chokes out a few more painful breaths, before taking a slightly longer one.

“that’s it,” jane coaches, “that’s so good, love. now again, in and out.”

katherine manages another breath and jane repeats her reassurances, over and over until katherine’s breathing is matching hers. katherine’s eyes had closed at some point, too focused on breathing to even try to see anything.

if she had opened her eyes at that moment, she would have seen jane, the all powerful queen of england, looking at her with kind eyes and the fondest of soft smiles.

“are you feeling any better now, love?” jane asks quietly, tucking some stray hair tenderly behind katherine’s ear. “be honest now,” she continues, “i want to make sure you’re really alright.”

katherine sits silently for a brief moment before speaking. “I don’t know,” she says honestly, voice barely audible. after such an intense emotional experience, she mostly just feels numb and hollow. she doesn’t even register the dull pain from the scratches terrance’s teeth had made on her bottom lip, or from where he’d gripped her wrists tightly in his hands. there’s nothing but emptiness and exhaustion.

jane notices the bruises forming on her wrists and the bright red mark lingering on her chin and the protective fire flares again. later, she decides, she’d sort those out. for now, though, katherine needs her.

“that’s alright,” she soothes. one hand absentmindedly rises to smooth down some of katherine’s mussed hair. “i’m here as long as you need or want me, love.”

katherine doesn’t respond, so still and silent that someone could mistake her for being asleep. it takes almost a full minute for katherine to whisper a barely audible “thank you.”

jane shuffles over until she’s sitting next to katherine, hesitantly putting an arm over katherine’s shoulders. when katherine doesn’t resist, jane pulls her ever so slightly closer. she wonders if she’s gone too far, but then katherine slowly lowers her head to rest on jane’s shoulder.

jane smiles when the weight of katherine’s head lands against her shoulder. “good girl,” she says quietly. “it’s alright, now.”

they sit in silence for almost another minute before the door is thrown open, lady agnes and henry standing side by side, looking panic-stricken. they see jane and relief flood their features, then henry looks downright murderous.

“what is the meaning of this?” he roars. agnes looks at katherine, disapproval written all over her face, her head shaking slowly.

perhaps a year ago, jane would have shied away from the king’s temper, would have been flustered and afraid. but jane was different, now. she’d given henry his son, her place was safe, and now her priority was to protect her child. evidently, some of that maternal energy was carrying over when she thought about katherine, too, and jane stands, drawing herself up to her full height. she steps in front of katherine, shielding the girl from view.

“i was comforting my lady in waiting, my dear henry,” she says firmly. “and i would be grateful if you kept your voice down. she has suffered enough today.”

henry sputters a few random syllables, then grabs jane’s shoulder and pulls her into the hall with what could be considered roughness.

katherine folds into herself under agnes’s harsh gaze. the woman approaches her and gets well within her personal space.

“what do you think you’re doing,” agnes hisses, “with her majesty? learn your place, little girl, and that is nowhere near the queen.” agnes is absolutely seething now. “if i had any power, you’d be on the first carriage out of here.”

katherine shrinks as far back as she can, too afraid to look agnes in the eye. “I-” she starts, but she doesn’t know how to possibly finish so she closes her mouth again. agnes glares at her for a moment longer before tapping her foot impatiently.

“well? don’t you have duties to attend to?”

katherine stumbles to her feet, legs uneasy and eyes starting to fill with tears.

katherine nods meekly and escapes into the hallway. henry and jane are near the corner, he looks angry. jane stands firm, resolute, even in the face of the outraged king.

an idea pops into her head, something she feels she must do immediately to save her her skin and the skin of her kind, lovely queen.

she had to leave.

she runs down the stairs and packs her bag with her measly belongings and sneaks off again. the kitchens are oddly empty as she passes through to the servant’s door. once she’s out the door, she doesn’t stop walking, headed as straight as she can manage through the wilderness, knowing a town would appear sooner or later.

it begins to get dark a lot quicker than katherine had hoped, although thinking rationally she should have expected this in early November. the bottom of her dress trails against the ground and picks up dirt as katherine holds her cloak tighter around her, shivering. she’s certain there’s a town around here somewhere, but in the pitch black it’s hard to even work out which direction she’s headed in, and she can’t shake the feeling that she might have been going in circles for the last half an hour. she’s soothed by the knowledge that the most dangerous beast she’s likely to come across here is a fox, but as the evening draws on she finds herself feeling more and more hopeless.

jane can’t help the worry settling around her after that afternoon’s confrontation. she had barely caught a glimpse of katherine disappearing around a corner, shoulders silently shaking and curled in on herself.

that was the last she had seen of the girl all day.

agnes enters jane’s bedroom later that evening with her nightly tea. “sorry for the delay, your majesty,” she says straightforwardly. “the newest hire is nowhere to be found.” she mutters something harshly, and jane swears she makes out the words ‘little rat’ in there somewhere.

jane has about reached the end of her patience with agnes at this point, and she raises an eyebrow.

“i would request you be more patient with her, lady agnes,” she says coldly. “i don’t expect to find one of my ladies in waiting crying because she was so harshly scolded after making a simple mistake. I trust you will see to it that this never happens again.”

agnes’s face goes through several emotions at once and turns almost purple. she pushes down whatever she was going to say, however, and simply nods her head stiffly.

“as you wish, your majesty.”

“and when you find her, please tell her to report to me,” jane continues, her voice icy. “she needs to move her belongings into the room closest to mine if she is going to become my permanent companion.”

agnes’s face actually does turn purple this time, to jane’s amusement.

“i will go find her immediately,” agnes grinds out through clenched teeth, curtsies, then leaves the room with the scrap of dignity she still has.

over an hour passes before agnes returns again, flanked by the captain of the king’s guard, a large and intimidating man named johnathan.

“your majesty,” he greets, bowing deeply. “we have searched the entire castle’s grounds, but we cannot locate one katherine howard.”

“what?” jane sits up, concerned. “you can’t find her?”

“there’s more,” johnathan says gravely. “we checked her chamber, of course, and it seems her belongings are missing.

panic floods jane’s senses. “widen the search,” she orders immediately, not stopping to think. “she can’t have got far, not by herself. spread guards out to the nearest towns and inquire after her.”

johnathan bows politely and leaves, audibly barking orders at some of his men down the corridor.

agnes lingers in the doorway. jane narrows her eyes threateningly. “were my instructions not clear enough for you?” she growls. “go.”

agnes waits a moment longer, obviously wishing to protest, but sees sense and bolts from the room.

jane is too alert now to sleep. she wants to go find katherine herself...

‘what a horribly perfect idea,’ she thinks.

before she knows it, she’s dressed in her riding clothes, making her way to the stable. she sees terrance, and he is a sickly white and silent as she sets her horse and helps her mount.

jane doesn’t give the boy another glance as she commands her horse forwards. she heads out into the night, searching for any sign of katherine or that she’d been there previously. it takes a while, but eventually she spots a white handkerchief caught on a low tree branch, glinting in the moonlight. she brings her horse to a stop next to it and picks up the handkerchief. the initials KH are embroidered neatly into the corner, and jane knows that katherine must have passed through this area. she frowns as she looks around; she was quite familiar with the area around the palace, and she knows that this particular direction was nowhere near a town. where was katherine headed, then? had she got lost?

she pulls out an oil lantern she had packed away as well as a thick wool blanket, lighting it with a match and setting off on foot.

a wolf bays nearby, loud and low, and jane fights the instinct to run. katherine needs her.

she continues on, blanket and lantern clutched tightly. the dim light slices the dark night, the only sound coming from her own shoes and the wildlife.

“katherine?” she calls. “katherine? it’s jane, love.”

there was no reply and jane keeps walking, lifting her lantern high to illuminate as much as possible. further on, some birds take off in flight, seemingly disturbed by something, and jane’s heart beats faster. it could be katherine- or it could be something much more sinister. the chance it might be katherine was too much to risk, though, and jane creeps forward, eyes darting to look between the trees for any sign of life.

“katherine?” jane calls again. a fox trots by her, going another hundred paces before stopping by an odd-shaped rock for a sniff. jane squints. that was definitely an weirdly colored rock.

she steps closer and closer. the fox hisses and runs off into the wooded cover, leaving the rock untouched.

that is definitely not a rock, jane finds.

it’s katherine, curled up on the ground, somewhere between asleep and awake, shivering from the cold.

“katherine!” jane gasps, falling to her knees beside her. she reaches down and gently touches katherine’s hand; her skin is freezing. katherine’s eyes are half-closed and she’s barely responsive, letting out only the weakest little noise as jane shakes her shoulder gently.

“katherine, can you hear me? it’s jane, love.” she slips her hand into katherine’s. “squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”

there’s nothing for a moment, and then jane feels the tiniest bit of pressure on her hand and she lets out a sigh of relief. katherine is still mostly out of it, though, and jane knows it’s going to be difficult to get her back to the palace, especially with jane not yet back to full strength.

she unrolls the thick, wool blanket and wraps katherine in it, then pulls the girl against her, rubbing up and down her arms to stimulate any warmth. jane holds her as close as she can.

“we need to get you back, love,” jane muses urgently. “can you walk?”

katherine shakes her head weakly. jane thinks she just means that she can’t walk yet, but katherine speaks in a low, raspy, weak voice. “i won’t go back.”

“what do you mean?” jane asks softly. “you need to come back, you’ll catch your death out here.”

“can’t-” katherine shakes her head weakly. “get you... into trouble.”

“is that what you’re worried about?” jane’s voice is gentle and concerned. “sweetheart, that doesn’t matter. you need to come home, and we can discuss this when you’re warm and safe, love.”

at the word ‘home’, katherine trembles. at ‘love’ everything just becomes even more real. if she had any strength at all, she would have wrenched herself free and run, run so far and so fast that she would lose herself and jane would never find her.

“what do you want from me?!” she squeaks, fighting the lump in her throat. “why do you care so much?!”

jane opens her mouth to answer the second question before she suddenly realises that she can’t. she doesn’t know why she cares so much about katherine, despite only having known her for a few days. instead, she answers the first question.

“katherine, the only thing i want from you is for you to be safe,” she says gently. “that’s all. if you’d really rather not be at court then i’m sure i could find you a place as a ward at another household, but please, let me make sure you’re safe. that’s all I want, I promise you.”

katherine knows that if she hadn’t been half-frozen she would be crying. but she doesn’t have the energy to cry, not even a stray tear. she just sits, absolutely dead silent, for an agonizing several minutes, trying to ignore jane’s soft reassurances of safety and love and comfort, trying to ignore the slim hands running up and down her arms, the constant shift of the blanket around her.

“that’s what they all said,” she suddenly speaks, cutting jane off mid-sentence. “they all said that they cared.”

“oh, kat,” jane says before she realises it, her voice cracking. “i’m- i’m so sorry. for everything they did to you.” a few stray tears escape but jane doesn’t bother wiping them away. “but i can’t let you stay here, sweetheart. you’ll catch your death. i promise you, if you don’t want to stay at the palace, you don’t have to. you can go anywhere you’d like to, but you can’t stay here, out in the cold and the dark. please,” a few more tears slide down jane’s face. “you deserve so much better than this.”

“no, i don’t,” katherine contests. sixteen years of abuse and two-faced men and incompetent adults who were supposed to keep her safe all flash before her eyes. she tenses in jane’s arms, still far too weak to even consider moving on her own. the three little words strike jane completely silent, so katherine asks it as an invitation to continue. “i deserve exactly what i’ve been given,” she spits bitterly. then her voice drops significantly. “nothing will ever change that.”

“no,” jane gasps, concern filling her voice. “no, katherine, you don’t deserve this. you didn’t deserve any of this!”

“then why does it keep happening?” katherine asks, voice small and broken. “if i don’t deserve it, then why?”

jane desperately wishes she could answer. she wants to protect katherine, this child from the likes of men jane herself hadn’t met until she had fully come of age. katherine, young, naive, sweet-hearted katherine had been hurt in more ways than jane truly could ever comprehend.

“there’s so much evil in this world, kat,” jane says faintly. “it found you.”

katherine mumbles something lowly, something jane was sure ended in ‘please.’

“what was that, love?”

katherine’s volume increases a smidgen, just enough for jane to hear. “just leave me out here. let me go, please.”

“I-” jane stops and sighs. she wasn’t getting anywhere with katherine, not when she was like this, but she couldn’t leave her here. she refuses to. she racks her brain trying to come up with a plan. she supposed she could wait with katherine until the girl falls asleep, keeps her warm, and then find one of the guards to bring them both back, but that would involve deceiving katherine and moving her against her will, and jane isn’t sure if she wants to do that when it could ruin any trust katherine has in her. however, she refuses to leave katherine out here alone where she’d surely freeze. jane just doesn’t know what to do.

she senses katherine’s rigidity, her distrust, her fear, and knows that if she can’t soothe katherine soon, everything will just get that much harder. so she employs her motherly intuition and does to katherine exactly what she does to edward, gently beginning to rock the girl in her arms and singing, voice barely above a whisper, the familiar lullaby.

“lavender's blue, dilly dilly, lavender's green, when I am king, dilly dilly, you shall be queen.”

her voice slowly gets stronger as she sings, still with a sweet, gentle tone. even in katherine’s numb, miserable state she can recognise the soothing feeling of being taken care of, being protected. the urge to cry comes back hard, and if katherine had any energy left she would have burst into tears. she almost hates that she relaxes in jane’s arms as the queen gently rocks her, singing to her like she’s an infant in a cradle.

jane feels katherine relax against her, some of the stiffness slacking out of her spine. she only hopes that katherine can sense the genuine affection coming from her hold and the words sweetly from her lips. she sings quietly and emotionally, even a few tears pricking in her eyes at the thought of the hell katherine had to pay just to be there, half-frozen, in jane’s embrace.

the cold starts to chill jane’s skin and she takes a moment to adjust the two of them, pulling katherine almost onto her lap as gently and slowly as possible as she covers both of them with the heavy blanket. she continues to sing, repeating the lullaby again, hoping that katherine was starting to feel safer. when she reaches the end she presses a maternal kiss to the top of katherine’s head without thinking, murmuring soft words of reassurance to her.

katherine is immensely fragile, a breath from shattering as jane sings to her and pulls her closer still. the embrace is soft and warm and katherine fights an internal battle over if this was what it truly, genuinely felt like to be cared for, or if jane was going to take something from her too.

but she feels the kiss in her hair and suddenly that breath comes, knocking the wind out of katherine. she deflates and crumbles against jane, hands clutching at the queen's riding clothes and the blanket, desperate for any single thing to cling to. "i'm so sorry jane," she whispers, but for what she isn't sure.

“oh, sweetheart,” jane soothes. “you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” she rubs small, comforting circles on katherine’s upper back. “it’s going to be okay, i promise you.”

katherine isn’t sure where she gets the energy to do so from but the tears start streaming down her face as she clings to jane, an exhausted sobbing mess desperate for comfort.

jane feels katherine start to tremble and cry against her. something in jane's heart pulls towards katherine, glad she finally broke past a border but hating that this was the way it happened. "i'm here for you, love," she whispers. jane gently kisses katherine's temple, which only makes the girl cry harder. she buries her face in the crook of jane's neck and tries to cease her sniffling, but the emotions just keep pouring out.

jane figures it’s best to let katherine get her emotions out and to comfort her through them with soft words, running a gentle hand through katherine’s hair over and over. katherine’s tears eventually start to slow out of sheer exhaustion, soon only being able to make quiet sniffling noises. she’s so tired and she rests fully on jane, body weak and her grip loosening.

just as katherine is finally calming down, jane's ears catch a loud thundering of hooves. in the distance, through the trees, she sees the bright orange of torches and lanterns, heading their way. she bites her lip nervously; henry would not be pleased that she was out of the castle, let alone in the woods with a 'lowly servant girl'. jane grinds her jaw slightly - henry never did have the greatest amount of respect for his staff.

a guard on horseback finds them first, and he calls back to the others. “they’re over here!”

he hops off his horse immediately and approaches jane and katherine, giving a quick bow.

“my liege,” he says, in a tone that suggests relief. “we found your horse and knew you must be nearby. we have a carriage for you, your majesty, and we must return to the palace right away.”

jane nods, then whispers very quietly to katherine, "let's go home, kat." the girl is hesitant to move, but allows herself to be moved and brought to her feet with a very gentle tug. jane holds the edge of the blanket in her fingers and puts an arm around katherine's shoulders, guiding her to the carriage. she hadn't noticed until then that her legs were absolutely burning, the combined pain of walking and letting katherine practically curl up in her lap setting the muscles alight.

as was to be expected, henry was waiting in the carriage, lady agnes seated beside him, both wearing matching looks of displeasure.

"did you have fun on your little midnight escapade?" he drawls sarcastically.

jane shoots him a defiant look, helping katherine get settled on the seat first and covering her with the blanket.

“save your anger, my love,” she says evenly. “i would do it again in a heartbeat to help her.”

“forgive me for my boldness, your majesty,” agnes speaks in a tone that very clearly implies she isn’t sorry at all, “but young miss howard has been far more of a hindrance than a help.”

“and as i reminded you, lady agnes,” jane turns her attention to the woman, “she might have felt more welcome had she been greeted with kindness and not hostility.”

agnes's jaw falls open as she struggles to find a response. finally, she simply fixes katherine with a glare before looking away from them both.

henry, however, does not agree with his wife's sudden stroke of strength and boldness. "i don't know where this all is coming from," he says in a low voice, "but i don't entirely appreciate being awoken in the middle of the night to find that my wife has stolen from her bed in pursuit of some..." he looks at katherine, shivering and small, then back to jane, "serving girl you seem to have taken as your own."

there’s a dangerous tone in his voice that makes jane reluctant to answer back, so instead she just pulls katherine slightly closer, turning her attention to fussing over the girl and making sure she’s warm enough. she can still feel henry’s disapproving gaze on her and she knows this is going to turn into something bigger, but she at least hopes she can get katherine safely to her chambers and asleep before henry loses his temper.

the ride back to the palace really isn't all that long, but it feels like an eternity to the four in the carriage, who all sit in a silence so tense it could be cut with a dull knife.

they slow to a stop outside the palace and, without waiting for permission, jane guides katherine inside, steering her towards what would be her new quarters as her personal companion. she knows that henry is waiting outside, able to feel his angered glare through the walls, but she doesn't let that slow her down as she gets katherine to bed.

"goodnight, kat," she whispers, then gently kisses her hairline. the girl gives a tiny, adorable, contented smile as jane leaves.

she is right, of course, that henry is outside the room when she emerges. without a word, she takes his hand and leads him downstairs to the throne room, trying her hardest to ignore the absolutely killer ache in her legs.

it takes mere seconds before henry speaks. “what you did tonight I don’t appreciate one bit,” he says, folding his arms. “you risked your life for a serving girl.”

“she’s not just a serving girl,” jane sighs. “her blood is as noble as mine. and in case you had forgotten, my love, i was once a lady in waiting too.”

“but you were nothing like that,” henry blusters. “you never caused trouble like she is.”

"she has not caused any 'trouble', dear. if anything, she has not had a great impression of the noble tudor household in the short time she's been here." jane takes just a beat pause, wondering if she wanted to go on. "told off far too harshly for the smallest mistake, assaulted in a storeroom..." she trails off, cringing at the sight of terrance and katherine in that closet. she shakes her head. "honestly, i'm surprised she doesn't want to leave," she bluffs, hoping to appeal to henry's ego.

henry looks slightly mollified and he takes a seat. “i still never want a repeat of tonight. i almost lost you after Edward was born, and i don’t want you putting yourself at risk like that again.” he pauses for a moment. jane supposes henry’s concern for her is the only reason he hasn’t lost his temper yet, as he’s being surprisingly gentle given the circumstances.

“as for miss howard, i don’t want any more disruption from her, but if she keeps herself clean then she might just settle in yet,” henry declares. he glances at the doorway, as if back at katherine. “she’s a very pretty girl.”

“she’s a sweet child,” jane says with careful emphasis. “i’m sure she’ll find her feet soon enough, my love.”

henry nods absently, still staring at the doorway as if it were katherine herself. jane frowns deeply at this, making a mental note to never leave henry alone with katherine, no matter what.

“if that’s all,” jane cuts back in, “i’m going to bed. it’s been a long day.” she kisses henry’s cheek. “goodnight, my love,” she says quietly. he is still staring off and makes no more than a noncommittal “g’night.”

jane begins the long and painful walk back to her quarters, unable to keep herself from smiling as she passes katherine’s room, hoping that the girl has settled in alright and tomorrow will be better for them both.

the next day jane can barely leave her bed, the result of her previous exertion making walking incredibly painful. to her delight, however, katherine walks in at jane’s normal breakfasting hour, a tray in her hands and a shy, nervous smile on her face.

“good morning, jane,” she says quietly as she places the tray down. her hair had been scraped back into an intricate style, but quite a few wisps of hair had escaped and they fall across katherine’s face as she tilts her head down. katherine tucks then behind her ears self-consciously, and jane makes a mental note to help katherine with her hairstyle later.

jane returns the smile. she takes a moment to sit up, then flags katherine over, patting a spot on the bed for the girl to sit. “good morning, love,” she says kindly. katherine sets down the tray between them and folds her legs, looking at jane expectantly. the queen, however, looks confused.

“where’s your breakfast, love?”

katherine looks surprised for a moment, then shrugs, blushing slightly.

“i’m not hungry, but I thank you for your concern.” the small smile plays on her lips again and she looks almost apologetically at jane.

“well,” jane gives her a gentle smile, “I couldn’t possibly eat this whole meal by myself, so if you find that you do get hungry feel free to help yourself to a morsel or two.” katherine looks almost shocked at the idea of sharing the queen’s breakfast but she doesn’t say anything, hands folding neatly on her lap and fingers playing with the lace trim of her sleeves.

they sit in silence for a long while. jane slowly eats, alternating her focus from the food on the tray to the shy girl in front of her. she feels a sting of something like pride or affection when katherine, in one quick fluid motion, steals a berry from a bowl on the tray and pops it in her mouth without looking at jane at all.

“katherine,” jane begins, remembering a piece of their conversation from last night, “do you wish to stay? i personally would love to have you,” jane earnestly adds, “but if this isn’t the place for you, i’m sure i can help find you somewhere else. it’s all up to you, love.”

katherine stills for a moment, hand slightly outstretched as if about to go back for another berry. she slowly retracts her hand and glances down at it.

“i... i don’t know,” she says quietly. “i’d like to, i think, but...” she trails off and jane reaches out, taking katherine’s hand in hers.

“but what, love?” she asks softly. “you can tell me, i promise.”

katherine speaks very quietly and jane listens with rapt attention. “i don’t want to see you get in more trouble with the king because of me,” she admits. “i know this isn’t...it isn’t something i’m too great at.” she cringes we agnes’s harsh words echo around in her head. “i just...” she exhales a long, slow breath. “i don’t want you to come to resent me.”

“kat,” jane sighs gently, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “you leave the king to me, okay? you don’t need to worry about him, not while i’m here. and everything else, that will come in time. you’ll learn how the court works in no time, you cannot blame yourself for a simple mistake in your first week. and i can promise you, love, i could never resent you.”

katherine’s gaze meets hers, searching for honesty and affection with wide, hopeful eyes. she wants to believe jane, wants to believe she’s finally safe with an adult who will actually protect her, unlike the ones who failed her in the past.

“you really mean that?” she asks, voice small.

jane gives her a gentle and loving smile. “yes, kat, i do.” she moves a hand to rest on katherine’s cheek. “i want you to listen and believe me when i say this kat,” jane instructs kindly, “you’re safe here, with me, and i’ll make sure of it.” she strokes a thumb over katherine’s cheekbone. “and that’s a promise i intend to keep.”

katherine suddenly jumps up, instinctively rushing into jane’s arms and burying her face in jane’s shoulder. she knocks over a bowl of strawberries in her haste but doesn’t seem to notice. jane is surprised at katherine’s sudden rush of affection but she soon relaxes into it, bringing a hand to gently brush through katherine’s hair and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“thank you,” katherine breathes, a tiny barely audible sound.

“of course, love,” jane says. her hand traverses katherine’s back in long, slow movements. “i swear to you, katherine howard,” jane whispers, a thin veneer of steel evident in her tone, “if anyone in the castle tries to hurt you, they will have me to answer to.” she softens her tone. “you deserve, kat, to never be hurt again.”

katherine practically crumbles in her arms, tears of relief filling her eyes as she clings to jane. she hopes so badly that jane’s telling the truth that she can’t help but believe her, can’t help but desperately cling to the idea that she’s finally safe. jane cradles her gently, murmuring soft reassurances and words of comfort. somewhere, deep down, jane knows that there is no way that she can keep that promise. heartbreak and trauma comes in funny forms, and, as much as she wants to, she can’t keep katherine from being hurt again.

like only a week later, when katherine is getting ready for bed, she hears the door open.

“oh, jane, i had something to ask-“

she turns around and it is definitely not jane waiting for her.

#six the musical #six musical #jane seymour #katherine howard #julie and jess write #clouds of rain and sun #hold onto me you're all i have #tw: assault

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werezmastarbucks · 7 years ago

Text

The Good One

in which you are the only one who makes Bucky fall asleep for some reason.

warnings: Buck’s depressed but it okei

word count: 1366

Bucky Barnes x reader

adding my taglist for Flame for one here bc you guys are the only thing I got

taglist: @moistpotatobear @heytherepartner @sebbytrash @thewinterher0 @lbouvet @areuforreal @allofthesearetakendafuq @thesalsafic @rhaeneris

It was getting pretty obvious that Bucky wasn’t okay. Not like he was ever completely fine, but these days he was having it especially hard, and, though pretty understandable, it was unbearable nonetheless. He started to go off on others, yelled at Sam over one of his stunts, and became very short-tempered with Steve. And if Sam always had it coming, him being the biggest irritator for Barnes ever, Steve definitely didn’t deserve it. Bucky was trying to be good, the good guy, the good one. But he simply couldn’t sleep.

First week he was holding up alright; like Rogers, he did not really need eight hours’ rest every night thanks to all advances his body and brain overcame through the years. He was now more of a flesh cyborg, almost invincible, everlasting and collected. Cyborg my ass.

On the second week he became hectic and exhausted, his face went greyish, and he was losing it pretty quickly. Insomnia wasn’t anything new for him; sometimes he preferred it to nightmares that waited for him should he dream a little. But complete lack of rest, the ache in the muscles, and sleepless brooding, the migraine, the uneasiness, the dizziness that came with it would turn anybody into a monster. The drained mind was about to eat itself, turning the remaining energy into the dark matter. Bucky didn’t tell anyone that he couldn’t fall asleep, smiling darkyishly to himself at the thought of close death. No one can live and not sleep. He was still partially a human – more than he used to think, even. After several nights of agony by the end of the second week, after he dozed a little only to be woken by sudden electric zip his own brain charged into him, he felt like the humanest human alive. And he didn’t really want to die, but… like, he didn’t have a choice.

He tried to take pills, and he stopped drinking coffee, and by the night time he would disappear to his room, leaving everyone silently concerned; he would walk a lot alone to get as much fresh air as he could. Nothing helped. He was thinking about trying to knock himself unconscious, and then couldn’t stop laughing. Steve found him gagging from the laughter, and his brave face went so white you could draw on it. Everyone knew what’s happening to him; Y/N looked sad. Nat was frowning sometimes, when he didn’t look. Benner looked lost; this guy grew wary of his mood swings, and Bucky would honestly feel guilty about it if he weren’t so numb. Stark did something no one expected: he reached to him and tried to help. He called Barnes a broken robot and gave his head a powerful charge. Bucky fell asleep right in the lab. It smelt like plastic and water there for some reason. He never felt better in his life. For twenty minutes. After that his body shook violently again, like it usually does when you dream about tripping on stairs or falling over. Bucky Barnes didn’t want Bucky Barnes to sleep, or to survive. Tony gave him a bottle of that disgusting green smoothie that smelt like dill and lime. Bucky thanked him with all he had and poured it down the sink. He was almost done.

You were watching news really quietly. You wanted to see what’s happening, but didn’t really want to know. The living room was a great space, and you never really felt completely comfortable there, but the TV set here was the best. The bent-inside screen itself was fascinating. Had it not been for the other people at the compound, walking around, looking, seeing things, you’d spend a lot of time just staring at yourself in this blackness. Modern art for one person. If you can appreciate that kind of thing.

Barnes landed on the couch near you barely acknowledging your existence. God wasn’t he massive. He stretched his legs and pouted at nothing, his eyes moving lazily while he was looking at the TV. He had those black bags under the eyes, and his face was now peaked. He hasn’t shaved in four days. He looked miserable. You realized you didn’t take the problem too seriously up until now – the idea of something so simple as insomnia, so random and physical, so typical for people like all you, ruining his life, was absurd. Like, it’s Bucky. His life is shambles by default. Why does it keep happening to him. It was psychological, you were sure, but your understanding didn’t help a bit. Bucky couldn’t sleep, and he was growing grey, moody, and powerless. You heard him hiss at Wilson the day before, and Sam’s voice sounded the way you hated to hear. Serious and defensive.

“How much time can you go on like this?” you asked.

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere”, he said vaguely. You turned back to the TV and watched. Ah, riots. People still hate the Avengers. Nothing gets done. The Damage Control is not enough. Angry. Helpless. Exhausted. On the edge. Familiar.

You blinked and stretched. You had insomnia, too, but it was pretty human, like all other cases. Rolling back and forth until five am, and then falling asleep like someone snapped their fingers – fast, deep, and with no dreams. You thought you were irritated and weary before you’ve seen what’s happening to Bucky.

You recalled staring at the window last night, while you laid in your bed. The sky was slowly getting pale pink, and your spine was moaning and sweating. Your eyes were burning and dry, and when the first ray of the sun poked through the clouds, a witch somewhere clicked her claws, and you drowned into sleep. You got up at noon, tired but alive, and didn’t have breakfast. The day was rainy, the job was none. Tony was in Washington with some infuriating business about not fighting people who are trying to prevent him getting them help. The latest news was, Tony was a tyrant who was trying to starve people to death.

You could hear Bucky breathe next to you. You didn’t speak last couple of days because you weren’t in the best mood and didn’t really want to bother him, though sometimes you felt like he’s watching you closely, more often than could be considered polite. But he got a pass, being Bucky. Everybody loved him, including you, or so you thought.

The quiet mumbling on the TV was putting you to sleep. You didn’t have problems with sleeping in daylight – it was the darkness that startled you to death and took away your composure. You started nodding and slid down the couch, putting your head on the pillow. You could still hear Bucky breathe very near, but at this point he was more of a surrounding.

You dreamed you were covered in spider’s web, but not like Peter’s, sticky and hard, - warm and very soft. It wouldn’t let go of you though. You tried to release your arm to get the white satin off, but it was unbreakable. You felt very tired in your dream, and decided to rest a bit more. Something poked you in the ribs, and you realized you were lying on a huge, broad branch of a giant tree. Hey, just like in the Hobbit! you thought. You tried to roll onto your back so that the hard bark of the tree wouldn’t bruise you. You couldn’t move. The fresh air was soothing your skin. You felt so good, despite being in the dark forest, possibly surrounded by gigantic human eater spiders.

FRIDAY’s soft voice woke you up.

“Y/N. Tony’s on the phone. Can you talk?”

You sighed, trying to figure out the parts of your body. Bucky’s metal arm was warm and hard beneath your right shoulder blade. He was almost falling off the couch, his right arm weighing a metric ton on your ribs. He was soft, and big, and breathing in your neck and tickling it a bit. You fought the sudden desire to lay a palm on his impressive side going up and down with the tempo of his breathing. Bucky Barnes was finally sleeping.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #avengers imagine #Bucky Barnes

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edsrich · 8 years ago

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Mixtapes (Richie/Eddie)

Summary: Both Richie and Eddie are very fond of each other and often tease each other affectionately, especially Richie to Eddie. So Bill and Stan both play cupid, which results in swapping mixtapes for eachother.

Warning(s): Bad language, 13 year olds kissing (don’t read if you think its fucking weird?? bc its not), if you think this is me sexualising these cuties-don’t bother

Richie’s Mixtape to Eddie

Eddie’s Mixtape to Richie

A/N: Look at my children in love, PLEASE I highly recc listening to either of the mixtapes that are linked above^^? They are both very 70/80′s. btw I do requests? If anyone wants to hit me up an x reader or a ship in IT 2017 (or IT in general) I’ll be glad to do so?? don’t be shy

“Awe, Eds. Look at you.” Richie cooed teasingly, pinching Eddie’s slowly flushing cheek.

Eddie quickly began swatting at Richie’s hand, his eyebrows furrowed heavily and a frown on his lips, “Don’t touch me with your rotten hands, asshole!”

Richie ignored his protests and flinched away from his swats, moving his hand to now over his shoulders and pulling the smaller boys frame into his own side, a grin on his lips. “You’re such a cutie, Eds.”

“No, No I’m fucking-”

“Both of you, shut up.” Stanley grumbles after rolling his eyes several times at the two.

Richie snapped his eyes at Stan, glaring through his coke bottle glasses, which only enhanced his eye size even more. He held Eddie closer, even with Eddie’s flushed cheeks he still squirmed lightly.

Stan sighs in relief and folds his arms as the group goes back to its usual discussion about the new random comic book of the week. Eddie couldn’t help but allow his heart to beat faster at Richie’s touch against his form, making him feel protected in his stronger grip. He couldn’t help but zone out as Richie begun to bicker that his comic book that he found was better than Stan’s.

Bill tilted his head, analysing Eddie as his eyes would flicker all over the place with his mouth gaping before closing every now and then and gulping. He knew that how he was acting wasn’t the norm for Eddie whenever Richie was like this, something was different. Not to mention that he had stopped struggling against Richie who wasn’t even holding Eddie tightly or forcing him in place.

Bill smiled a bit, as something clicked inside of his head- a plan. But he was going to need Stanley to help out.

That night, on the way home from their adventurous summer day- Bill was walking Eddie home as Stanley had taken Richie to a different route. Bill hummed a tune as he walked alongside his friend, grinning as he turned to look at him.

“So...”

Eddie looked at Bill, tilting his head, “So?”

“So, y-..you and Richie?”

“Yeah?” Eddie was confused, almost disgust in his voice- but Bill could see past the faux disgust.

“I saw how you were t-today, Eddie. Y-you were blushing.”

This again, only caused Eddie to heat up as his form became a flustered mess and he glared at Bill. “You would blush too if someone touched your arm!”

“N-no, I’d only b-blush if Bev touched my arm there.” Bill pointed out, “but in this instance, you blushed when Richie had his arm around you- as well when he pinched your cheek and called you a ‘cutie’, it’s quite obvious.”

Eddie snapped his head away, patting his fanny pack for reassurance for himself. “Whats your point?”

“My point? M=my point is that he’s flirting with you; y-you like him.”

“I don’t like him! And he isn’t flirting with me! He acts like that with everyone-”

Bill cuts Eddie off quickly, “E-Eddie, do you see him pinching any of our cheeks and calling us a ‘cutie’? He doesn’t put his arms a-around us or any of the shit he does for you, not to mention he calls you E-Eds and doesn’t have a nickname for any of us.”

“Okay Bill-”

“N-n..not to mention, he carries an extra i-inhaler around just incase you lose yours.”

Thats when Eddie’s breath hitches, feeling butterflies go crazy in his abdomen, adoration swirling and tugging at his heart strings. He could practically hear his heart in his ears loud and clear.

“He... he does?” Eddie whispers, his voice quivering a bit.

“Yeah, even though he knows that you don’t even need it anymore, because you know, gazebos and your Mom making your illness up and shit but- yeah.” Bill smiles, watching how the young boy was falling more and more in love.

Eddie then quickly holds his wrist, feeling his pulse; resulting his fingertips quivering from feelings how his heart was beating with happiness.

“Oh... I-I never knew that. He’s never told me...”

“That’s b-because you’ve never needed it, but he always has.”

Eddie bites his lip, “What a fucking, what- he’s a fucking dick.” Eddie protests, blushing bright as ever.

“Sure he is,” Bill chuckled, “But l-look, I wanna help you. I know when someone is in love when I see it.”

“How?” Eddie asked, neither denying his feelings or admitting.

“Well.. It i-involves music.”

Meanwhile, Stanley was grumbling to himself in annoyance and cursing Bill’s name for getting him into this situation with Richie Tozier. He didn’t want to do this, but Bill had promised to give him some candy as a reward if it goes well.

“So, Richie. I’m gonna make this quick as possible so I can just go home.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Richie asked with pure confusion, a single eyebrow furrowing and one raising.

“You like Eddie, Eddie likes you.” Stan started, his face full of boredom, “Can you just hurry up and tell him?”

Richie was shocked by his friend’s words at first, before smirking. “Hell yeah I like him, I tell him all the time.”

“I mean genuinely, you asshole.” Stan sighed, “Not as a joke or some shit, literally confess your fucking feelings to him or something.”

Richie rolls his eyes, not being fazed by the situation, “What makes you think I like him seriously? I’m not fucking gay-”

“It’s pretty fucking clear you like girls, after you telling us for the full day about the first time you ‘tickled your pickle’ to a random magazine that had huge boobs all over it. But you like guys too, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Stan spoke with a monotone voice, managing to not let any voice cracks slip.

Richie scoffed, “I don’t like him, he’s a friend and I like to tease him.”

“You tease him by calling him ‘cute’ and you give him a nickname, you don’t do it to anyone else. You like him, just admit it- no one is judging you.”

Richie frowned, huffing a bit and rolling his eyes. “Well, what if I did? Whats your point and where are you going with this?”

Stan smirked, patting Richie’s back forcefully, causing him to stumble forward.

“What’s your taste in music like?”

The next day, both Richie and Eddie were walking to school together in perfect unison, both of them holding a tape in their pocket that held a variety of songs that the one had imagined for the other.

Richie gulped, for once actually nervous around Eddie. What would Eddie think of him? It was a fucking mixtape, it was Richie’s music taste. Would he even like it? Would he-

“Richie, here. I want you to have this.” Eddie cut off Richie’s thoughts, holding up a tape alike to Richie’s.

Richie blinked twice, stopping in his steps. The tape was all black and what seemed to be painted on with nail polish ‘Sucks to Suck’ on top of the tape.

“I-it’s a mixtape.” Eddie mumbled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he felt flustered.

Richie stayed silent, slowly taking the tape, analysing it with soft eyes before looking up with confusion. He turned over the mix tape to see ‘to Richie’ painted with the same shade of white but in smaller writing.

“You made one too?” He spoke quietly, his head tilted to the side which caused his dark brown hair to tilt too.

“What?”

“Look...” Richie dug into his pocket and pulled out his own black tape which had a sticker on it, saying ‘Gimmie head til’ I’m dead!’ on it, with writing scribbled onto the back saying ‘to Eds’ with a cheeky smiley face, “I made one too, here.” He handed it over.

Eddie’s eyes widened, blushing a bit as he took it from the glasses wearing boy and read over it- mentally scoffing at the sticker but he was in awe of the idea that both of them had somehow made a mixtape for the other.

“You too?” Eddie whispered in shock.

“Well, yeah- but it wasn’t my idea.”

“It wasn’t mine either.”

Richie quickly smirked, rolling his eyes, “They fucking set us up.”

“Who? Bill? Because it was Bill’s idea for me-” Eddie began to ramble on.

“It was Stan’s idea for me.”

Eddie then stopped, sighing with a grin- poking his tongue in his cheek. “Fuck, that makes sense.”

Both look at each other with grins slowly spreading over their chapped lips, soon the two boys were in a fit of giggles due to the realisation of the sweet situation. Both never taking eyes off one another, blushes spreading to their ears and down their necks.

“I, I guess I’ll listen to this tonight?” Richie’s voice broke, still calming down from his fit of giggles.

“Yeah, me too... I-i uh, I picked out the songs carefully and put them in order a certain way, so..” Eddie trailed off, becoming a little ashamed incase Richie would tease him for his effort.

But Richie only felt love swell inside of him at those words, he grabbed Eddie’s hand with his free one and leant forward, bending down slightly, whilst pressing their lips together for the first time. Eddie’s eyes widened in shock, before melting and wrapping his free arm around Richie’s neck with the mixtape in his firm grip. Both merged together in sync and harmony, with their lips swelling and becoming saturated in colour. Richie wrapped his other arm around Eddie’s waist and too held his mix tape tightly as they both kissed in the middle of the street, hand in hand, with no shame at all.

Eddie sat down at his desk, placing his headphones over his head, pressing play as quickly the flood of Richie vibes swirled into his eardrums. Finally, after many aching hours at school he had time to listen to this mixtape.

I don’t want to know your name

Cause’ you don’t look the same

The way you did before

Okay, you think you got a pretty face

But the rest of you is out of place

You looked alright before...

Eddie chuckled at the familiar song, it often played in arcades that the Losers club all went too. It went under the title ‘Fox on the Run’ and it was by ‘The Sweets’.

Fox on the run!

You scream and everybody comes a running!

Take a run and hide yourself away...

Foxy on the run!

F-foxy!

Fox on the run...

And hide away!

Eddie listened to every song intensely, capturing the vibe of Richie Tozier perfectly. He had even picked out songs that they both loved and favoured. Eddie really adored Richie’s music taste and everything about it, it perfectly described him as a person and he loved that.

Soon, the last song came on. By the instrumental, Eddie recognised it to be ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love With You’ by Elvis Presley. HIs heart hammered quickly.

Wise men say,

Only fools rush in

But I, cant help, falling in love with you...

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin?

If I can’t help, falling in love with you...

Eddie’s breath hitched in his throat, feeling his pulse echo throughout his system. This was not part of Richie’s vibe at all, but part of Eddie’s. Eddie loved Elvis Presley whilst Richie wasn’t a big fan of him.

But this song was magical and made for someone special, so Eddie was shocked and swooned. Very much so captivated.

Eddie Kaspbrak was falling in love with Richie Tozier.

Later that night, Richie laid down in bed with his cheap headphones, before plugging them into the mixtape and pressing the button to get the songs going.

The first song started; it was of course one of Richie’s favoured artists as well as Eddie’s. From what he knew, this was one of Eddie’s favourite songs from David Bowie, it was called Heroes and it was a truly beautiful song.

I, I will be king.

And you, you will be queen.

Though nothing, will drive them away

We can beat them, just for one day.

Oh we can be heroes!

Just for one day.

And you, you can be mean.

And I, I drink all the time.

Because we’re lovers, and that is a fact.

Yes we’re lovers, and that is that.

Though nothing, will keep us together

We could steal time, just for one day.

We could be heroes, forever and ever.

What’d you say?

Richie felt his heart pump faster and swell as the mixtape carried on, each song having Eddie’s vibe to it. But Richie could tell that they matched him in a way that made Eddie pick it for him to listen to. Everything was intentional.

After a good 50 minutes, the final song was starting to play. Yet Richie wasn’t prepared for what he was about to hear.

Hey Jude...

Don’t make it bad,

Take a sad song, then make it better.

Remember, to let her into your heart.

Then you can start to make it better.

Richie’s eyes widened as his thoughts wandered back to Eddie’s simple words. ‘I picked out the songs carefully and put them in order a certain way.’ This meant that Eddie had intentionally wanted Richie to hear this song last.

Hey Jude...

Don’t be afraid.

You were made to go out and get her.

The minute you let her under your skin

Then you begin to make it better.

Richie felt the tears prick at his waterline as this was the first time of him being emotional at a song. Eddie was the only person that knew about Richie’s home life, how he was neglected by his parents constantly and was alone. He knew that the reason why Richie was so loud and out there was because he didn’t receive the attention he deserved at home, so he wanted it from friends. He wanted to make people laugh, Eddie knew this.

Eddie’s key words lingered in his brain, as it stuck out to him that this single song revealed that Eddie’s whole mixtape was set up in a way to help Richie throughout dark times or whenever he felt alone, so he could remember that Eddie had cared enough to set up this mixtape in perfect order to make Richie stronger in that given moment.

And anytime you feel the pain,

Hey Jude, refrain

Don’t carry the world upon your shoulders.

For well you know that it’s a fool,

Who plays it cool

By making his world a little colder.

Richie’s tears finally fell, making him take his glasses off to refrain any of the tears staining the lenses. Eddie had purposely picked this song as if to say that Richie was in fact his Jude, he wanted Richie to get better and hopefully have a better mindset besides his life at home.

Nah, nah nah, nah nah, nah nah, nah nah...

His breaths shook, as he held the mixtape to his chest with the headphones still placed perfectly on his head. He was thankful to have someone like Eddie who would even bother to do this, as something as simple as this with so much thought put into it only made him fall in love with the small boy even more.

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goldendream-s · 8 years ago

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dare or drink

Request; Can you do an imagine where Shawn was in an interview and dared to prank you saying he cheated on and she started crying, hung up, and blocked him on everything so then Shawn asked his friends (Matt, Brian, and Geoff) to help him

p.s. i changed it a little bc i couldn’t see this happening in an interview

I WAS NOT PLANNING TO POST THIS TODay but yEET i’m really not happy with this but enjoy!1!!

MASTERLIST || REQUEST

SHAWN’S POV

It was like any other night during on the road and I had just finished my last show in the European leg of the tour. The crowds only seem to get bigger and better as the tour progresses, but with that comes the stress and pressure of performing better and better every night. Brian, Matt, Geoff, and I were currently in the biggest room of our tour bus, sitting down to play a game of ‘dare or drink’. I never understood what my friends liked about this game, but it was their own weird spin on the classic game of truth or dare. They suggested it to help lift some of the weight created by the tour, but all it ever does is leaving us hungover the morning after, a night full of regret the night before.

“Why do we always play this game, Geoff?” I spoke my thoughts aloud. “You know it’s not fun being hungover before the weekend, especially since we have a 12 hour flight tomorrow.”

“What doesn’t kill you makes your stronger, Shawn,” Geoff replied. “Besides, stop being so scared, loosen up a little,” he added.

I sighed as I took a seat in the mini circle we created for the night we planned. “Who has the bottle?” I questioned.

The ‘bottle’ I was referring to was a very strong vodka, and if the bottle landed on you, the person who spun the bottle gives you a dare. If you decide to pass the dare, you have to take a shot of the vodka. The game ends when the bottle is empty, which can take anywhere from 30 minutes to hours. Quite frankly, I didn’t really feel like getting wasted the night before a long flight, so I’m crossing my fingers that I don’t get any outrageously stupid dares.

“Who’s starting?” Brian called. Everyone, as in Matt and Geoff, ran over to where I was sitting.

Matt reached over to spin the bottle while muttering something inaudible. The bottle landed on Brian, merely missing me. Matt smirked and paused a little as if he was thinking of an impossible dare for poor Brian to do.

“I dare you to run around our bus three times,” Brian let out a sigh of relief before Matt put his hand out to signal that he wasn’t done telling Brian the full dare, “naked,” Matt laughed before reiterating the whole dare. “I dare you to run around the bus while naked.”

“Oh my god, why am I even friends with you guys?” I half joked while face palming.

I felt embarrassed for Brian, but that didn’t stop my laughter from joining with Geoff and Matt’s hysterical giggling. Sometimes I forget how old we are by the way we act. I guess some things never change.

Brian hesitantly but silently stood up and yanked his pants down, which only increased our laughter.

“Maybe a warning would be useful next time,” I hollered to the now fully naked guy running towards the exit of our bus.

Brian might’ve been my best friend, but sometimes I questioned his integrity. Geoff promptly trailed behind Brian with his phone ready to record the dare. I stayed behind and waited silently for the next three minutes for the two to come back.

While Brian was putting back on his last article of clothing, he spun the bottle again, pulling us into the cycle of the game. A few rounds later, I had passed on most of my dares, leaving me right over the edge of being drunk. My mind was in a haze, but I was conscious enough to know that if I had another shot, I’d be vomiting and passed out by any minute. Brian was back at it as he sat down from what must’ve been his fifth dare, preparing to spin the bottle. I crossed my fingers that it would miss me like it did for the first couple of spins, but my luck seemed to run out.

I crashed my face into my palms as I waited for Brian to choose the dare. I opened one eye to peek at his whereabouts to find him whispering to Geoff and Matt. This was not going to end up good.

“Calm down Shawny-boy,” Geoff cooed. That only got me more nervous.

“Just cut to the chase, you losers,” I half joked.

“Ok,” Brian started, “I dare you to prank call your girl and tell her that you cheated on her.”

I suddenly didn’t want to play this game anymore, and I suddenly wanted to punch the crap out of the three friends in front of me. I tried to reason with them, but it didn’t look like they were buying it. ‘A dare is a dare’ they all said.

“I swear you’re so dumb, Brian. Do you not see why this is messed up? Dude, just give me another one. She's gonna hate me!” I tried one last time at persuading them.

“C’mon man,” Matt butted in, “Don’t be the party-pooper.”

I didn’t want to drink at all tonight, but I had already broken that vow I made to myself. All of the same time while my head was spinning, I knew that if I had anymore to drink, the flight tomorrow would be misery. I didn’t want to do this to her, especially when we were already juggling so much. The distance already put so much weight and pressure into the relationship that if I screwed up at all, it’d probably take me cancelling my whole tour to fix the problem. I contemplated the dare and the possible consequences. About to back out of the dare, something clicked in my mind, warning me not to. Before I could turn back, the alcohol spoke for me to reach into the pocket of my jeans to grab my phone.

I don’t know what kicked in when Matt said that, but my lips opened and replied with a ‘fine.’ There’s no doubt that I won’t regret this.

Unlocking my phone, I searched for her name which wasn’t so hard considering how we just called less than two hours ago. I hovered my thumb over the call button and closed my eyes as my finger grazed the screen. There was no turning back now.

After three rings, she picked up as her soft and sweet voice filled my ears and the room. “Shawn? Are you there?”

This dare was already taking much more time than we all anticipated, so I cut to the chase to save me from more dread.

I took a deep breath before starting, “Well, um, t-there’s no easy way to say this, but I-I um, I cheated on you. I’m so-sorry.”

I waited for her to reply so I could tell her that it was all a sick joke and that I’d never do that to her, but the other side of the line stayed quiet. My heart was beating out of my chest and I suddenly wished I had just taken that one shot of vodka. I also wanted to murder the three friends sitting in front of me, but I guess we can’t always get what we want.

“Hun? Are you still there?” I started biting my nails as I waited for something, anything.

I heard what sounded like a sniffle before she finally said something. “Shawn, are you drun- actually, never mind. Don’t ever talk to me again. Delete my number, too.”

My eyes widened, finally taking in her words. “No, wai-” I try to interject, but she hung up. My words might’ve been slurred and my mind blurry, but my heart knew that I had just lost her. It was like I was the only one in the room as I tried calling her in front of Matt, Geoff, and Brian. Obviously, it was no luck, and I was on the brim of tears.

“It was a joke,” I sigh as if she were still on the line.

Your POV

It was Friday night, and I decided to stay home and relax by myself. I’ve spent the last few days around a lot of people, and now all I wanted to do was binge watch Netflix and hopefully get some phone calls with Shawn in. He was currently in the middle of a concert, so I made sure to follow all of the possible ‘Shawn Update’ accounts on Twitter to get pictures by the second.

I was so proud of him, but of course sometimes the distance put a strain in our relationship. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him, but it can occasionally be difficult to have the intimacy of a regular relationship with someone when they’re thousands and thousands of miles away from you. Nonetheless, I was happy for Shawn and his success.

About to take my seat on the couch perched in the living room, I heard the distinct ring tone to my phone. Of course, it was a custom ringtone that Shawn made before he left, which I have no shame in using. I quickly dug out the pillows to fetch my phone and clicked on the accept button of the call even faster when I read the name at the top of my screen.

Once the call connected, I could hear voices in the background and Shawn hushing them. He must’ve been with his friends. I waited for another five seconds, and he still hasn’t said anything.

“Shawn? Are you there?” I questioned.

I finally heard a deep breath from the other line before Shawn began stuttering, “Well, um, t-there’s no easy way to say this, but I-I um, I cheated on you. I’m so-sorry.”

I can’t even describe how I felt at this very moment, because there’s no way to describe how it feels to be back stabbed by someone who you put all of your love and trust into. He sounded way past drunk, barely able to pronounce his words without stuttering.

“Hun? Are you still there?” My mind quickly scrambled to find a response, but my mouth was as frozen as my mind.

My natural instinct was to get as far away from the problem as possible, which required me to hang up the phone. I thought of something to say, and it might’ve not been the most reasonable, but at this point, I wanted nothing to do with Shawn. “Don’t ever talk to me again. Delete my number, too.” I quickly hung up before he could say something and chucked my phone across the room. I didn’t really look to see where it landed because my vision was beginning to cloud up with tears.

The best way for me to explain how I felt was as if my heart was glass and someone swung a baseball bat through it and then ran me over with a bulldozer. My heart felt as if it literally broke and shattered into a million pieces. The amount of emotional pain I was feeling was equivalent to the hurt I felt when I lost my first dog. To have a bond with someone so close, and to have it destroyed in a matter of minutes, I was practically watching my world collapse right in front of me. Needless to say, I was devastated beyond words.

My phone would not stop ringing, but I didn’t even bother to check who it was. I was too busy trying to understand everything. I felt empty and sick to my bones. I felt like I was drowning and there was nothing I could do to save myself. I wanted to scream, but no noise came out. I felt as if I was suffocating while my lungs were being crushed by the weight of pure pain. It’s truly one of those feelings that you don’t comprehend until you actually experience it.

Meanwhile, my phone was still buzzing. I so badly wanted to pick up and cross my fingers that this was all some sick joke, but I couldn’t will myself to move.

I was paralyzed in my own seat, but instead of Shawn being the one to save me, he was the one that left me stranded.

SHAWN’S POV

We had almost six hours before I’d be on a plane without any service and internet connection, which also means that I have about six hours to explain everything to her. I tried to call her so many times last night, but it’s as if she blocked me. A ‘ding’ sound popped up in my head when I thought about trying to DM her on Twitter and Instagram, but she blocked me on both of those sites. I clenched my fists as I called over Brian, Geoff, and Matt who hesitantly came over.

“You guys are the ones that got me into this, and you guys are the ones that will help me fix this,” I said before any of them could even open their mouths.

I wasn’t used to being so demanding and affirmative, but I only have so many chances of winning her back that it’s really my only choice. The three friends standing in front of me quietly nodded their heads along with me as we brainstormed everything that we could do while I was on the other side of the globe from her.

After two hours and zero ideas later, I crumpled the piece of papers placed in front of me and threw them across the room. I knew this was going to be hard, but I never imagined that I would be stumped for this long. Brian and Matt had left to grab lunch for the four of us, so it was just me and Geoff.

Seconds, minutes, hours passed and Geoff and I still couldn’t think of anything. I knew from the look on his face that he was on the brink of giving up, the only thing stopping him being the tears streaming down my face.

I watched as he got up from his seat. “Look man, our flight is in a few hours and we haven’t thought of anything. I’m lost. I’m sorry about the dare, but I think this is for you and you only to fix.” He left the room, leaving me to think to myself.

I lost my girlfriend because of a stupid dare, and now I was facing the consequences. My girl is gone while I’m on the other side of the world.

this is crappy lol oops

check out my other writings >> masterlist

p.s. it’d be really great if you could like and/or reblog this :))

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