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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years ago

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The Island | KTH (Ten)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) mentions of sex, public fingering, slow sex in the form of a flashback, making out, dirty talk, oral (male rec.)

Notes: Here’s chapter 10:) Next chapter is the chapter most of you are really anticipating hahah sorry it isn’t this one! But I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon @mawwnsterr @siredsong

Previous---Next

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Being really fucking nervous is actually the understatement of the century. You wish there was a better word to describe how you feel. Afraid, concerned, on edge, hesitant, jittery, jumpy, shy, tense, uneasy…you get the point. Meeting Taehyung’s parents is already a nerve wracking experience but in this situation it is even worse—you are the reason their son went into a major fucking depression for 6 months.

Taehyung has a big smile on his face though…he looks genuinely excited and not the least bit concerned. You on the other hand feel sick to your stomach, you feel like you have to gulp down literal puke every five minutes…or maybe every five seconds. Your hands are pooling with a gross amount of sweat and your stomach keeps twisting and turning.

“And my mom makes little sandwiches for us, like all the time.” Taehyung grins, he squeezes your hand in his as you two approach his parents’ house. “You ready?”

You feel the anxiety build, making you nauseas all over again.

“Sure.” You swallow down your nerves, looking up at Taehyung with worried eyes. His smile begins to fade as he observes you, he exhales a deep breath and lets go of your hand.

“Try to relax.” His hand goes to your hair, his fingers playing with it. “I wouldn’t bring you here if I thought it was going to go all wrong.” He says softly. “You have to trust me, remember?”

“Right…” you nod your head slowly. “You wouldn’t bring me to a place that people would hate me, right…” you wipe your hands on your jeans.

“y/n…” Taehyung reaches for your hand again, he intertwines his fingers with yours. “They don’t blame you.” He says under his breath. “I’m a grown ass man, I let myself go. Not you.”

“You can’t really be that naïve, Taehyung?” You breathe out, “At least one person blames me, that knows that I didn’t reach out to you—”

“I said to trust me, didn’t I?” Taehyung snaps, but he keeps his voice low. “I talked to my parents about bringing you over and they want to meet the girl from the photos. They rooted for us the entire time.” He tries to offer you a smile but you keep the frown that pulls down your lips.

“Why would they root for us…they don’t even know me.” You say quietly and Taehyung suddenly pulls you close, hugging you.

“Because they saw how happy we looked together. You saw the photos, right? You have to admit we make a cute couple.” He teases, holding you close.

“C-Couple…are we a couple?” you pull away from him slightly, you look into his dark eyes and give him a look that urges him to answer you.

“You’re asking if I’m like, your boyfriend?” he tilts his head, then he is pulling you back in, hugging you tightly. “I guess we really haven’t had that discussion yet.”

“Taehyung—”

“I want you to be my girlfriend. Will you?” He speaks lowly, his baritone voice vibrating his chest as your head is pushed up against it. “Can I introduce you as my girlfriend?” he sort of repeats and you feel your heart skip a beat—several in fact.

“You…you want me to be your girlfriend? But you won’t even kiss me?” you mumble into his chest.

Taehyung sighs out, he’s tired. Really tired of this same conversation. But he tries to be understanding of you and holds you even tighter.

“Remember we are taking it slow,” he reminds you. “But I’m yours. And you’re mine. So of course we are a couple. I’m your boyfriend…you’re my girlfriend.” He spells it out for you, “And that’s how we will introduce the other.”

You pull back from Taehyung and look into his eyes, his dark, beautiful eyes. You take a moment to let your eyes linger on his. They’re brown. But so much prettier than any other brown you’ve seen, they’re deeper. Like they hold so much mystery. You see the season of Autumn in his eyes. Like summer just ended, like the warmth of the sun still lingers. They’re the kind of eyes you can get lost in. Like you are doing right now.

“I’ll be your girlfriend.” You mumble shyly and Taehyung’s hands find your waist.

“You’re cute.” He states, “Too cute for me.” He squeezes your waist and you slowly close your eyes at how good it feels to have his hands on you.

“Don’t do that.” Taehyung warns. “I know that look.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You say with your eyes still closed, his hands now lowering themselves to your hips.

“I know what you look like when you want to get fucked y/n.” he starts to massage your hips and you can’t help but let a small, small moan leave your lips.

“Fuck…” Taehyung releases a shaky breath as he watches you get worked up. “Will this relax you?” he asks, his voice low. “If I get you off?”

“W-What do you mean?” your eyes shoot open, “We’re outside your parents’ house.”

“And?” he raises a brow, his hand going to the button of your jeans, he unbuttons it with one hand. “There’s hardly anyone around here.” He slides down the zipper and you begin to frantically shake your head, trying to stop him. But you fail miserably. Apparently shaking your head wasn’t enough.

“Tae…there’s people walking.”

“Barely.” He looks around his surroundings. “You’re going to come all over my fingers, okay?”

Your eyes dart all around you but he’s right, the people are kind of far and not paying attention to you.

“Okay…” you agree breathlessly. Taehyung slips his long fingers into your pants, sliding beneath your panties and going straight for where your needy ass self wants him most. With his free hand, Taehyung pushes you against the gate of his parents’ house and covers you with his body. His fingers find your clit and he starts to rub slowly, trying to get you wetter. This goes on a for a minute or two before you are soaking his fingers in your juices then he is rubbing a bit faster, making your knees buckle.

“Ah, Taehyung…” you moan out quietly. “Stay on my clit, I can come like this.” You let him know softly, your words coming out broken as you try to breathe normally.

“Okay babe.” He circles his fingers around your clit, rubbing over and over until you’re whimpering. Your eyes shoot open though when you remember you’re in public, your eyes scan the area and when you see you are alone you slam them shut and let out a longer moan.

“Be a little quieter.” Taehyung chuckles, “Don’t want my parents to come out wondering what’s going on, now do we?” he teases you, his fingers working on your bundle of nerves faster now, with added pressure making your orgasm announce its arrival.

“I’m going to—I’m going to come.” Your head falls onto his chest, and with his other hand he reaches up for the back of your head and begins massaging your scalp.

“Come for me baby. Want you nice and relaxed.”

You’re so, so close when you notice a couple of women walking past, you try so hard to keep your orgasm at bay until they leave but being in this situation somehow pushes you over the edge. You bite down on Taehyung’s shoulder as you try to stay quiet as you come all over his fingers.

“Good, good.” He rubs your back, “Relax, relax.”

You try to calm your unsteady breaths as you recover from your high, his sticky fingers leaving your heat as he pulls them out of your pants. He immediately pushes his fingers past your panting lips and orders you to lick him clean.

“Now.” He says, waiting to feel your tongue clean him up.

Then you are buttoning your jeans back up and smoothing down your clothes and your hair. You look up at Taehyung and he grins down at you.

“Feeling better?” he asks, “By the way, the answer better be yes.” His fingers tilt your head up by the jaw, urging you to look at him more properly.

“Yes.” You say truthfully. “I just need a moment to catch my breath then we can go inside.”

“Of course.”

Taehyung’s parent’s house is really, really nice. Well, as far as you can tell from the outside…you two are standing outside the front door waiting to get let in. You feel your nerves come back to haunt you, making you feel nauseas all over again. Before you can get too into your head, the front door is swinging open and a beautiful woman is widening her eyes at you, then she is yelling behind her in Korean and man is rushing to the door. Taehyung’s parents.

“Ummmm…” You start gathering your courage to speak to them. “Hello. My name is y/n. Nice to meet you.” You say in your broken Korean. Taehyung whips his head in your direction and looks pleasantly shocked. A wide smile makes its way on his face as he watches you trying to communicate with his parents.

“She even speaks Korean!” Taehyung’s mother claps her hands excitedly, but you literally have no idea what she said. You only know a few things, like asking where the bathroom is, random animals and colors and saying hello and goodbye. You awkwardly nod your head though and Taehyung begins explaining to them that you in fact, do not know Korean.

“Oh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Mrs. Kim brings her hand to her mouth as she tries to hide her growing smile. “We speak a little English…but we understand more than we speak…” she admits shyly and you can’t help but nod with a small smile.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You say, holding out your hand but she walks closer and pulls you in for a hug instead. “Thank you.” Mrs. Kim mumbles in your shoulder. “Just…thank you. Thank you for coming here…”

“Mom…” Taehyung drags out in a whine.

You feel a pang in your chest once you realize what his mother means…she’s not mad at you? But rather grateful that you finally came? This makes the guilt you previously felt worsen.

“Come in, come in!” Mr. Kim chimes, “Dinner should be ready soon.”

“y/n can help me?” His mom pulls away from you, her hands still on your arms. “Right?” She asks with a sweet smile. You nod your head and follow her inside. Taehyung grins as he watches you two walk away towards the kitchen, his dad smiles knowingly towards him and pats him on the back.

“We’re making bulgogi.” She says happily, “Have you had before?” she takes the marinated meat and starts placing pieces of meat inside the pan.

“Yes, but probably not as good at yours.” You smile. Mrs. Kim nods her head like she agrees with you then hands you the tongs to place the meat in the pan yourself.

“I am really happy…” Mrs. Kim watches you cook the meat, “And very grateful. Taehyung missed you so much…it was hard seeing him so sad.”

You take a deep breath…you probably should have guessed this conversation was coming.

“But he had the courage to go find you!” She claps her hands, “We raised him nicely, didn’t we?”

“I’m sorry…” you gulp, “I—”

“No, no. Taehyung explained everything. You had the courage to come here in the end, didn’t you? Your parents must have raised you nicely as well.” She says, her hand gesturing you to flip the meat.

“I guess so…” you turn the meat over in the pan. “Taehyung is hard to say no to.”

“He is…how do you say? Charming?” She gathers the side dishes and starts placing them on the table.

“He is.” You feel a blush creep on your cheeks. “He really is.”

Suddenly, you feel her hand on your arm. You turn your head to face Mrs. Kim and she’s looking at you with pleading eyes.

“……….” She says slowly, but you have no idea what she said. You scrunch your brows and look at her with a puzzled expression.

“You’ll learn Korean, won’t you? When you do, you will remember what I said.” She then smiles for you, letting go of your arm.

“I’ll try my best.” You say honestly. “Thank you for having me here by the way.”

“Of course, we watched the two of you through photos for 8 months…you feel like family.”

“She’s very pretty.” Mr. Kim tells Taehyung, “But I’m worried….no….it’s fine. This will all be fine.”

“She’s beautiful.” Taehyung smiles, “And don’t be worried…everything is going to turn out the way it’s meant to.”

“The way it’s meant to, huh?” His dad grins at him, pulling him in for a side hug. “I know you will make sure of that.”

“I don’t want anyone else.” Taehyung admits between soft breaths, “She is the one for me, I know it.”

“I remember being that sure about your mom.” Mr. Kim begins to reminisce, “I still feel that way.”

“I know.” Taehyung finally hugs his father back, both of them letting go. “You will love her too, you will get to know her and realize I have every right to be in love.”

“Oh son…we already know you are in love. We saw it even through those photos.” Mr. Kim begins walking to the kitchen, “And she’s a woman in love if I’ve ever seen it.” He chuckles, “You two will be okay.”

“You think so?” Taehyung follows his dad towards the kitchen where you and his mom are.

They walk through and see the two of you setting up the table, you both look happy and Taehyung couldn’t be more pleased.

“Smells good.” Taehyung sniffs the air around him dramatically, “Did she help mom?” Taehyung winks at you and you roll your eyes playfully.

“She cooked all the meat! Next time I will get her to make the marinate.”

“I would love to learn.”

“She would love to learn! You hear that?” Taehyung comes up to you and hugs you tightly. “I will learn with you.” He whispers in your ear and places a quick kiss to your cheek. You immediately feel yourself heat up, feeling slightly embarrassed that he would show affection in front of his parents. But they don’t seem to mind, they instead smile at one another before taking a seat at the table.

“So, we want to know all about your time on the island! Happy memories.” Mrs. Kim requests sweetly. “The photos weren’t enough for storytelling.”

“Hmm.” Taehyung stuffs his face with meat, “I was so mean to her at first.” He laughs and you hit his shoulder.

“Yeah, he didn’t even want to talk to me!” you whine.

“We said happy memories!” Mr. Kim chuckles, patting his mouth with a napkin. “What was your first kiss like?”

“Oh yes! It was probably sweet and pure. I can just see it!” Mrs. Kim chirps making you blush hella hard. Your first kiss was anything but pure.

“I don’t want to stop, Tae.” You blurt out quickly. “I want to keep going.” You flutter your eyelashes at him, “Please.” His eyes widen.

Taehyung’s hands grip at your waist and leans in again, kissing you once more. His lips find yours in desperation this time, he moves his lips against yours messily yet perfectly. His hands slide down just a bit until they’re gripping your hips, he gives them a squeeze and you squeal. So he squeezes your hips again until you’re whimpering in his mouth. He takes advantage of your parted lips, taking this opportunity to lick past them and feel your tongue with his. He presses his mouth against yours harder as your hands run down his broad chest.

You begin exploring his front side, your hands gliding from his chest to his stomach. He groans when you slide your hands down with added pressure to his lower stomach, he feels himself tense as he continues to kiss you. His tongue swirls against yours as your kissing becomes more heated and more sloppy. He wants to explore your front too, god, he wants to feel your tits in his hands so bad. So he slides his hands up until he’s groping you, your breasts being squeezed passionately by his large hands. You groan when his thumb finds your nipple through the material of your shirt and thin bra, he’s rubbing it over and over and you roll your eyes back.

“It was very sweet. Very pure.” Taehyung comments nonchalantly, sticking another piece of meat in his mouth.

“Yes, very.” You repeat with a giggle. “The island holds some very precious memories for me.” You begin, “Taehyung really became someone special, someone precious. He felt like the first real friend I had in a long, long time.”

“What are you friends like at home?” Mr. Kim asks and you feel yourself grow a little smaller, but it isn’t as bad as it used to be, you can admit.

“I don’t really have many…most of my friends were from my old job but that place was…toxic. I’m glad it’s behind me.” You say honestly. “I work a new job now and everyone seems really nice, I look forward to making new friends.”

“We hear you have an older sister! That must be nice!” Mrs. Kim reaches for a side dish, piles some on her plate. “And your parents must be so happy to have you home.”

“Ah, Ellie. She’s great.” You take a sip of your water, “She really takes care of me. And my parents were a little sad I finally moved back out and back to the city. But they’re also happy I am moving forward with my life.”

“How do they feel about you coming to Korea?”

“My mom isn’t the most supportive…but dad and Ellie are.”

“Why isn’t your mom—”

“Anyway,” Taehyung cuts off his mother, “y/n is excited about her new job and making new friends.

“Well, she can always make new friends here.” Taehyung’s mother gives both of you a knowing look. “The boys will surely like her.”

“Well, yeah…” Taehyung gets out awkwardly. “But she’s only here for a few weeks.”

“But eventually she will—”

“Mom.” Taehyung warns. “Not now.”

“Fine, fine! Anyway I prepared your photos from the island, should we show you our favorites?” She says excitedly. “There is one in particular that really just…oh my, let me just show you!” She stands from her chair and walks towards one of the counters, picking up a pile of photos.

“This one. This one is my favorite.”

It’s of you and Taehyung on the couch, you’re both laughing, leaning into one another spaces. Taehyung has got his hand on your upper thigh and your head is leaning into his chest. It looks like you two are so happy. Like you two never want to leave the island. And at the point you’re sure you never did.

“I like it too.” You say quietly. “We look so happy.”

“Yeah.” You can hear the smile in Taehyung’s voice. “Show us more.”

“Okay, it was nice to meet you both.” You bow your head towards his parents and they smile at one another before they look over at Taehyung.

“Taehyung…”

Then his parents are pulling him to the side and speaking to him in Korean, so you have no idea what’s being said. But Taehyung looks flushed, then he is waving them off.

“Ready to go?” he asks with a blush.

“Did you have a nice time?” Taehyung asks you, his hand in your hand as you two walk to the bus stop. “My parents like you.”

“Yes.” You smile shyly, “But also why wouldn’t they? I’m amazing.” You tease, trying to act more confident than you are. Maybe to trick yourself to be nicer to yourself.

“That’s right baby.” Taehyung grins down at you, “You are.”

Although things went really well…you still can’t help but feel anxious over everything. Like you are undeserving of kindness. They were so nice to you even though you’re the reason Taehyung went through a sad phase. But you are trying to accept their love even if it’s really hard.

The bus ride to the stop near his apartment only takes around 20 minutes, you feel yourself nodding off on the bus. You had a long day and the jet lag is definitely starting to take a toll on you.

“Sleepy babe?” Taehyung takes your head in his hand and guides it on his shoulder. “Sleep a little.” He kisses the top of your head and you feel yourself grow more and more sleepy.

Eventually, Taehyung is gently shaking you awake letting you know you two made it to your stop near his apartment. You both walk to his place, the night time air making you feel nice. It’s easier to breathe out here, it’s easier to trick yourself into breathing freely and feeling like you aren’t being totally suffocated.

You walk into the apartment and Taehyung decides to put on a movie. You change into some fresh panties and one of his long t shirts before you’re settling on the couch. Taehyung makes some hot chocolate for the both of you before he is pressing play on the movie.

You aren’t sure what movie this is, what it’s about or anything because you are so god damn tired. You lay down in Taehyung’s lap and eventually fall asleep.

Taehyung looks down at you and feels himself falling more and more in love. Just watching you sleep, he feels himself growing with affection for you. But it’s on his mind. What his parents said to him before you two left.

“She isn’t ready Taehyung…” His mom states plainly, “She will need a lot of time.”

“She does seem like a very good girl.” His dad adds in, “But we can tell how overwhelmed she is.”

Taehyung feels his entire face flush as he tries to gather his words.

“We are going to take it slow.” Taehyung says, “Really slow.”

“Don’t push her too much. We know how badly you want to be with her but it seems like she has some things to figure out before she can commit to you. Just remember that.”

Taehyung huffs out as he recalls their words because they’re right and he knows they are right. You aren’t ready and that’s just the truth. But he can’t give up. But he also can’t pressure you. Where is the balance? What is the balance?

He knows you are probably feeling very pressured right now, even just being in Korea. Did he make a mistake? No, he can’t think that way. He knows everything will turn out the way it’s supposed to.

Taehyung watches you sleep more than he watches the movie. He just wants you to be happy, to be comfortable. He lifts you off his body so he can lay down too, spooning you on the sofa. He decides to sleep with you tonight.

~~~~~

It’s Tuesday. Taehyung takes you around Seoul, you visit popular sites, eat good food, even do some shopping. It’s the evening now and you two are at some nice restaurant, you even have your own little room.

“Is this not a date?” You playfully ask. “Because it sure feels like one.”

Taehyung takes a moment to think before he is pouting, his bottom lip jut out so far you want to kiss it.

“It is.” He finally says, “But it’s not the first official first date like how Friday will be.”

“Jeez,” You sigh out, a small laugh leaving your lips. “How many unofficial first dates will we have?”

“A million, if we have to.” He teases, reaching over the table for a side dish. “Do you kiss on the first date, y/n?” he suddenly asks, making you blush.

“With you? I just might.” You respond back. “Do you?”

“With you? I definitely will.” He says cooly, “Just an innocent kiss though.” He looks up at you and smirks.

“Oh? Sweet and pure? Like what your parents think—”

“It was sweet and pure!” Taehyung whines, “The sweetest, purest kiss of my life.”

“Oh?” You raise a brow at him. “What the hell other kind of kisses you been having?”

“Nothing like yours baby.” He winks at you.

You playfully scoff at him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You like kissing me?” Your eyes find his again, “Tell me.”

“I love kissing you. One of my favorite activities.”

“What are your other favorite activities?” you lick your lips, his eyes fall down to them.

“They all include you but I don’t think that’s appropriate dinner conversation.”

“At least tell me one. Or maybe I can guess?” You scoot to his side of the table, your body getting closer and closer to his.

“You can guess.” He gulps as your hand lands on his thigh. “Guess.”

“I think you like when…” your hand slide up and down his upper thigh. “When I touch you.”

“You guess right.” Taehyung stares straight ahead as your hand travels up his thigh higher and higher.

“My hand is one thing, but I bet you like my lips the most?” You lean up and kiss the side of his neck.

“Y/n…” Taehyung says breathlessly. “Not here.”

“Why not?” you continue to kiss his neck, making Taehyung grow weaker with every kiss.

“I don’t deserve to be touched by you.” Taehyung whispers.

“Baby…” You kiss his neck again, “I forgive you.” You say in his ear. Taehyung slowly closes his eyes and starts to shake his head.

“You don’t. You can be upset with me however long it takes.” He says quietly but you aren’t having it. You lean back and grip his arm, urging him to look at you.

“Tae…I said I forgive you. You…I thought a lot about it and yeah, it doesn’t make me happy but also we weren’t in a place that I can actually be upset over it. I’m trying my hardest to be understanding. And I think in the end, it’s no one’s fault that you did what you did. And you said it means nothing to you—”

“Nothing! It really didn’t mean anything…” Taehyung cuts you off, his expression is troubled. He looks at you with wide, panicked eyes. “y/n…I really wish I could take it back. I regretted it so much.” His eyes begin to bubble over. “That night especially…I wasn’t myself, I was in a dark place, I missed you so much, I—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Your hand reaches up to rub his shoulder. “I know, baby.” You continue to rub his shoulder as soothingly as possible, getting him to calm down.

“You really forgive me?” he asks, his voice small.

“Yes Tae.” You lean into him, wrapping an arm around his waist. “I might still be a little bitter about it but I will try my best not to be. But overall, I forgive you. I know you regret it. I know the one you love is me…”

“Yes!” Taehyung basically shouts, “You’re the only one I love, I promise you.”

“I believe you.” You say, hugging him close. “This can be one thing we cross off our problems list.” You laugh. “I don’t want this to be a problem anymore.”

“Really baby?” He slips his arm over your shoulder, hugging you back.

“You deserve to be touched by me, Tae. Me and me only though.” You can’t help but chuckle.

“When we get home,” he breathes out, “I will let you touch me.”

“Okay.” You lean your head on his shoulder. “I can’t wait.”

“Fuck.” Taehyung groans. His hands go to your hair, he pulls at it making you moan all around his dick.

“You are art.” He grits out. Your tongue swirls over his tip before you take his cock further and further in your mouth. You have drool escaping the corner of your lips, your eyes are fogged up with lust and your cheeks are painted a lovely shade of pink. You truly do look like art.

“Take your time baby.” Taehyung moans, “We have all night.” You slowly lick up his length, getting it nice and wet. He moans for you, the low guttural sounds going straight to your pussy. You’ve missed this, missed him, missed his cock. Having him squirming beneath you feels so good as you make him feel amazing.

“I love your mouth…feels so good.” He watches as you bob your head up and down rather slowly. You suck his cock so well it makes him dizzy.

“You know how to make me feel good.” He finally closes his eyes as he just focuses on the feeling you give him. He focuses on your hands on his member, on his balls, he focuses on your tongue and how it licks him over and over. He focuses on your sounds, how you choke on his cock, how you moan for him.

Taehyung hates how close he is. But he hasn’t felt this amazing in months and months. He wishes he could have your lips wrapped around his cock for hours and hours, but he is losing control. He starts thrusting his hips upwards, desperate for more.

“Can I come down your throat? Will you swallow for me?” He pants.

You only moan around his length, the vibrations sending him over the edge. He feels himself go tense as he shoots his cum down your throat. You continue to fondle his balls, and suck on his tip as he finishes.

Taehyung whines out, throwing his head back as he comes down from his high. You swallow all his cum like you agreed to, the flavor lingering in your mouth. Tastes like him, tastes so good.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Taehyung moans, “How are you this good?”

“Let’s just say I was made for you.” You crawl up his body, Taehyung pulls you up by the arms and lays you down on his chest.

“You are, you definitely are.” He whispers, kissing the top of your head. “No one has ever made me feel like the way you do.”

“No one?”

“Just you my love.”

Explosions. Like, maybe something like fireworks go off in your chest. His new pet name for you makes you feel warm as fuck, and giddy too.

“I’m your love?” You try to pull your lips down, hiding this obvious smile.

“Of course, you are. Love of my life.” He states in a whisper. “I can’t see myself with anyone but you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” You respond sweetly. “The feeling is mutual.”

~~~~~

It’s Wednesday. You and Taehyung are just relaxing in his apartment today…you two plan on ordering take out for dinner and watching shows, playing games and just enjoying one another’s company.

“This feels a lot like one of our days on the island.” You say, leaning your head against Taehyung’s shoulder.

“Yeah, it does.”

For the first time, things feel like they never changed. You feel at home with Taehyung, you feel like everything is right, everything is perfect.

“Even being here on this sofa reminds me…”

The slow drag of Taehyung’s cock is enough for your vision to become blurry, almost like you are drunk. The couch isn’t the most comfortable place to have sex but you both were so fucking needy for the other…you don’t even care about being watched. Not even for a moment as intimate as this.

Taehyung brings his hands to either side of you and starts rolling his hips into you deeper and deeper, your eyes roll so far back into your head that all you can see is the whites. His cock reaches places you didn’t even know about, you never knew cock alone would make you feel this fucking good.

Dreamy. That’s you would describe this moment. His length brushes against you in ways that make “seeing stars�� like a child’s phrase. You’re beyond seeing stars, you are seeing whole galaxies. The universe is in your eyes with the way he makes you feel.

Taehyung’s chest falls to your chest, his lips on your lips as he continues to grind his hips into yours in the most slow, sensual fucking of your life. Can this even be called fucking? This might be called making love.

You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of your steamy thoughts. Your whole face is red as you push back that memory. Taehyung knows though. He sees right through you.

“You’re thinking about the slow fuck, aren’t you?” He winks down at you. “When I fuck you again, it’ll be like that. But even better.”

“When?”

“When I just can’t take it.” He admits, “I have very little control left though.”

“I know it will be amazing.” You sigh out, “I can’t wait to feel that close with you again.” You murmur shyly, “Whenever you’re ready.”

“The more I look at you, the more I feel ready.” He says softly, making your heart skip a few beats.

~~~~

Thursday. You had a few days to gather courage but today you are feeling anxious all over again. You have already thrown up twice.

“Baby we can cancel.”

Today you are meeting Taehyung’s friends. Tonight, technically. But it’s only an hour before your meeting time and you are so overly anxious that you are physically sick.

“No, no.” You wave him off, “I’m just being a baby.”

“They’re the ones who said I should bring you back to Korea. No one is going to be mean to you, no one is going to make you feel unwelcome…well…no, no it’ll be fine.” Taehyung rubs your back.

“I know, I know.”

You were once not like this. But after everything that happened with your ex, with your old job and so on, you have become a nervous person. You know this is something you have to work through…

“But if it’s too much, we can cancel.” Taehyung offers again, you just shake your head and smile. He’s so loving, so supportive. What did you do to deserve someone as amazing as him? “No, I need to finish getting ready though.” You rise from the couch, “Will you help me pick something to wear?”

“You packed that green, flowy dress right?” Taehyung grins, “I love that dress on you. Wear that.”

“I was going to wear that tomorrow…for our date…”

“What about that new dress you bought on Tuesday? The red one?”

“Oh that’ll be a better date dress. Hm, okay. Green one tonight then.”

You walk into Taehyung’s bedroom, and take out the green dress. You slip it on over your body and examine yourself in the mirror, you look nice, you will admit.

“Beautiful.” Taehyung comes up behind you, circling his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “So beautiful.” He then kisses the side of your neck, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. “I can’t wait to show you off tonight.”

His hands begin massaging your hips, you slowly close your eyes from how good it feels. You grind yourself into Taehyung’s crotch and he immediately groans out.

“We have to leave soon.” Taehyung warns. “Don’t make me get you off.”

“Why can’t we both get off?” You whine, “Just fuck me already.” You continue throwing your ass back into his crotch.

“I think soon but not right now.” He smiles. His hands continue to massage you, he rolls your hips with the guidance of his hands. “Are you almost ready?”

“Hm. Yes.” You open your eyes and make contact with him in the mirror, “I’m really nervous, to be honest.”

“What can I do or say to make you feel comfortable?” Taehyung hugs you close.

“I don’t know…��

“I’ll try anyway.” He laughs, shoving his face in the crook of your neck. “You are amazing, you are funny, you’re fun to be around, you’re adorable, you’re sexy, my friends are going to love you! They are all so excited, I promise.”

“Okay, okay.” You giggle. “I’ll just have to believe you.”

“That’s all I ask.”

You both stare at one another in the mirror for a while, you feel like every moment that passes with his eyes on yours you are falling in love all over again. The time on the island counts but this is real life, this is reality. You have to learn to live with the fact that the island was just one part of your relationship. That this new phase is something worth working on.

“I love you Taehyung.”

Taehyung blinks at you in the reflection, he looks genuinely surprised by your words. He turns you around in his grasp, your face now facing him, just inches away.

“Tell me again.” He says softly. “Tell me you love me again.”

“I love you.” You repeat in a daze, your mind starting to fog up with affection for Taehyung.

“How much do you love me?”

“Enough that I will do anything if it means we will be happy together.”

“I love you too.” Taehyung whispers, pulling you closer to him. He tilts his head to the side as he leans into your space. His words hit your lips softly and you feel yourself melting, melting so much that Taehyung has to basically hold you up.

“How much do you love me?” You ask, a slight teasing tone. Your eyes half lidded as you stare up at him.

“Enough that I can’t wait until our first date.”

“Can’t wait for wh—”

Suddenly, Taehyung’s lips crash into your lips. He kisses you long and deep. His lips staying on yours for a life time, you feel your knees give out on you. Taehyung holds your body up as you finally start to kiss him back. Your lips move against his slowly, tenderly, with so much feeling, so much passion.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you push yourself closer to him, your chest coming flush against his. He starts to move his lips against yours a little harder now, a little more desperately, a little more with fire. Taehyung surprises you with the long, dragged out moan that leaves him as he kisses you. Like, this is the first time he has ever kissed you. Like, he has been waiting a life time to kiss you.

His lips part for you and you take the hint to slide your tongue between his lips, finding his tongue tangling with yours immediately. His hands explore your body frantically, they grip you in every place you could want him. Your lips, your tongue, everything tastes so sweet. He can die a happy man after finally kissing you.

You aren’t sure how much time has passed but Taehyung’s ringing phone indicates that maybe you two are late. Taehyung pulls away from you, his erratic breathing hard to calm. He reaches for his phone and answers it.

“Hello? Uh huh…okay….sorry, sorry. We will be there in a bit.’

You smooth down your hair in the mirror and fix your make up a little bit, then you turn around to face Taehyung again.

“Who was that?” you ask.

“It was Jimin, him and Namjoon are already there. We should get going.” He pulls you in and places a quick peck to your lips. “You ready?”

“Yes. How do I look?”

~~~~

“Gorgeous! You look so gorgeous!” Jimin gushes, he holds you at arm’s length and you look at Taehyung with confused eyes.

“Umm, thank you. You look…gorgeous too.” You admit shyly…well, he does. You didn’t think Jimin would be this beautiful!

“Oh my god, me? Thank you!” Jimin goes in to hug you again, “I thought you were so pretty but pictures do not do you justice girl.”

“Oh my god…thank you…” You laugh, “I knew I looked bad in some of those pics.” You joke.

“Wait that’s not what I meant!” Jimin can’t help but pout…”I meant—”

“Okay, okay,” Namjoon steps between you two, “I’m Namjoon, by the way. I’m not sure Jimin here was ever going to give me the opportunity to introduce myself.” He chuckles. You shake his hand and he grins at you.

“It’s so nice to meet y—”

“y/n!” You hear your name being called but you don’t recognize the voice, you glance over your shoulder to see two new bodies walking towards you.

“Hi—” But before you can continue talking you are being engulfed in a hug by one of the men.

“I’m Hobi!” he laughs into your shoulder, “I’m so happy to meet you!”

“Oooh.” You nod your head in understanding, you glance at the other man who just give you a small wave of the hand.

“I’m Yoongi.” He says with a smile. “We are uh, your new friends.” He looks down at the floor, his gummy smile not going unnoticed by you.

“Hi, nice to meet you both.” You feel yourself smiling, you feel your heart glowing. Everyone is being so nice, it’s refreshing.

“Okay, stop hugging her Hobi…” Taehyung deadpans. “Where’s Jin and Jungkook?”

“They were right behind us…” Yoongi comments, “They probably got caught up talking to someone on the way in.”

“Well, you know Jungkook. Probably a girl.” Jimin teases, “So should we grab a table?”

You all search for two tables and put them together, so you all have a place to sit. It’s around 9pm. So the bar is starting to get crowded, but it feels fun.

“What are you drinking baby?” Taehyung leans into you, “Want a mixed drink?”

“Yeah, surprise me.” You nod, “Something strong though.” You wink up at Taehyung and he grins down at you.

“Okay.” He leans in and finds your lips. You kiss him back quickly, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“You guys are so cute.” Jimin practically drools, “This is the first time we are seeing Taehyungie happy again.”

Guilt. But you’re trying, you are desperately trying to move past that feeling.

“It’s the first time since the island that I am this happy too.” You admit to Jimin. He leans into your space and smiles at you.

“You’re going to make Taehyung so happy, aren’t you?”

“I’ll try my best.” You giggle.

Taehyung comes back with two drinks, he hands one to you and you immediately gulp it back.

“Well, hello there friends.” A new voice. You look up to see who you assume is Jin and Jungkook.

“I am Jin, your new best friend.” He shakes your hand and you laugh. “This is Jungkook…” he gestures towards the other boy. Jin looks very happy to see you while….Jungkook does not, to put it simply.

“Hi Jungkook.” You wave at him and he only narrows his eyes at you, scoffs and looks away.

“Oh?” You raise a brow…finally, someone who is treating you the way you feel you deserve. Somehow this amuses you.

“Jungkook doesn’t want to be my new best friend?” You tease. You glance at Taehyung who looks tense but he immediately relaxes when he notices you taking this …rather well.

“Why?” Jungkook spits out, “So you can ghost me for 6 months?”

Ouch. But a well-deserved sting.

“Okay,” Taehyung stands to his feet and takes Jungkook by the arm and drags him off to the side so they can talk.

You watch, still amused. You don’t feel hurt by this…Jungkook is just being a good friend. Not that the others aren’t good friends but to be honest you expected this from at least one of them.

“If he doesn’t behave, just report to me and I’ll scold him.” Jin says playfully, “And if Taehyung does anything weird, you let me know and I will set him straight too.”

“I don’t like scolding Taehyungie…” Yoongi begins, “But I’ll do it.”

“Don’t count on me, everything Taehyung does is perfect in my eyes.” Jimin laughs, “I’m joking, I’m joking—”

“We aren’t so sure you are.” Namjoon cuts in. “But really y/n…this is the most we have seen Taehyung smile. It’s thanks to you.”

“It’s also my fault he….” Your eyes go to Taehyung who is still scolding Jungkook. “He—”

“It’s no ones fault!” Jimin claps his hands together. “Everything happened the way it did and now we can all move forward. Especially you y/n.” Jimin gives you a sweet smile, “Guilt is an ugly feeling. I would hate for you to be eaten alive by it when you don’t have to be.”

You feel your eyes sting with tears…you didn’t realize you needed an almost stranger tell you something like that…he’s a new friend right? You can call him a friend?

“Jimin…” You sniffle and he starts laughing loudly.

“Oh! Don’t get sad!” He leans in to hug you. “Let’s only make happy memories, okay?”

“The happiest.” Jin chimes in, “We’re all your friends now…and Jungkook will give in eventually.”

“Don’t worry too much about Jungkook…” Yoongi smiles, “He’s sort of the brat around here. You’ll get used to it.”

At this you laugh, you have heard stories. He is the youngest, after all.

“I’m not too concerned.” You admit under a few soft breaths, “It kind of feels good…getting what I deserve.”

“What are you? A Masochist?” Jimin frowns, “You deserve to be happy.”

“And I am…or, I will be. I’m getting there.”

“Okay, we are back!” Taehyung announces his and Jungkook’s presence. “And we are happy to be here, aren’t we Jungkook?” He says with his hand on the back of Jungkook’s neck.

“Totally.” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Super happy to be here. Hi y/n.” he mutters underneath his breath. It’s cute actually.

“Hi Jungkook.” You giggle. “Want to take a shot with me?” you offer, standing up. Jungkook pinches his brows together then points to himself.

“With me?” he asks, clearly shocked.

“Yes, you.” You nod your head in the direction of the bar, “Coming?”

Taehyung looks over at you, also confused. But you just give him a smile that lets him know it’s okay.

“Sure…” Jungkook shrugs Taehyung off him, “If you’re buying.”

“What a brat.” Jimin laughs. “You should be buying her the drink, not the other way around.”

“No, no. I offered, I’ll buy.” You wink. You start walking towards the bar and Jungkook follows behind you.

You both walk up to the bar and you ask him to order for you, which he does. You both get handed two shots of some liquor and you raise your glass to clink it with his.

He eyes you curiously, wondering what your aim is here.

“Were you ever going to talk to him?” Jungkook finally says something.

“Taehyung believes I was going to…so yes. If he believes it then so do I.” you take your shot and Jungkook follows.

“I don’t like you.” Jungkook states plainly, “You made Taehyung really sad…”

“I know. I don’t think I like myself much either right now. But Jimin made me feel a little better…”

“Jimin will do that.” Jungkook sighs out. “But I still don’t like you.”

“You’re very cute Jungkook.” You reach up and ruffle his hair, you laugh out loud when you notice how red he has become. “You’re a good friend.”

“I-I-I…” He stutters out, feeling his blush hit him hard. “Whatever.” He looks off to the side. “Are you ready to go back or what?” he grumbles shyly.

You nod your head and you both walk back to your tables, Taehyung gives you a look of concern before you are smiling at him. A real life smile. And he relaxes.

“Hey baby.” He says, pulling out your chair for you to sit. “You didn’t grab another drink while you are up?” he asks, “I’ll go.” He stands, placing a kiss on your cheek and you nod gratefully.

“So what are we talking about?” You glance around the boys, “Anything interesting?”

“y/n! This is perfect, we can get a girls perspective.” Hobi smiles at you, “Yoongi has this girl he likes, right?” At this Yoongi groans, throwing his head back in annoyance. “But he won’t ask her out!”

“And how can I help?” You laugh.

“Well,” Jimin joins in, “We don’t know how this girl feels. So listen, listen.” Jimin puts a hand on your shoulder as he speaks, “She kissed him one time but hasn’t initiated anything since!”

“Oh…” you give Yoongi a look of pity and he starts laughing.

“I knew it.” Yoongi slaps his knee, “She isn’t into me guys.”

“Didn’t I say that?” Jin asks and Namjoon swats his arm. “What? It’s true. She is kissing on random guys all the time, I think you just happened to be one of them.”

“No!” Hobi cuts in, “Listen to this though! She asked for him last weekend, wondering where he was at…like, she missed his attention or whatever.”

“His attention or him?” you ask with a pointed look.

“Exactly.” Namjoon says, “We have to be sure if its him she wants and not his lips.” He starts making kissy faces and you all start laughing.

“Well, if she out tonight?” you ask, “Maybe I need to watch your interactions with her to be sure.”

“Wow, you can be a wing woman.” Hobi says with stars in his eyes.

“Oh my god yes a wing woman.” Jimin says with stars in his eyes as well.

“I’m not saying I will be much help!” You giggle, but the boys wave you off, still excited about having a wing woman.

“You’ll really help y/n?” Yoongi asks quietly. “You don’t have to.”

“Of course I’ll help…well, to the best of my abilities.”

“What did I miss?” Taehyung comes to the table, setting your drinks down. He takes a seat next to you.

“y/n is apparently all of our wing woman now.” Jungkook says nonchalantly.

“Psshh, like you need a wing woman.” Jimin teases, “You get girls just by being in the same room as them.”

“Stop trying to make my girlfriend do work when she just got here.” Taehyung pouts, “Don’t overwhelm her.”

“No, it’s nice.” You admit with a blush. “Feels like I have friends.” You say as quietly as possible to where only Taehyung can catch what you are saying. “We are your friends.” You hear Jimin whisper to you as he leans into your space. “Don’t ever doubt that.” Oh. You guess with Jimin next to you he was bound to hear.

“Thanks Jimin…”

Hours and hours pass, drinks are going down like crazy. Everyone is having so much fun it is ridiculous. You haven’t laughed this much probably ever in your life!

You feel yourself growing closer and closer with the boys, especially now that you are all drunk.

“Oh my god, I fucking love you!” Jimin laughs with his whole body, he practically falls out of his chair. “You told him his painting of you looked like a frog!” he snorts.

“Someone had to be honest about his human portraits, I suppose.” Namjoon laughs as well. “But a frog? You’re savage.”

“I thought his painting of the 7 of us was really….special.” Yoongi adds, “But I wouldn’t say we looked like frogs.”

“Oh, he made me look like a god damn frog.” You giggle. “I told him to burn it.”

“And did he?” Hobi asks.

“No, we kept it for the memories…” Then your face lights up. “By the way Tae…”

“Hm?” Taehyung smiles for you, “What is it?”

“Do you have the painting? They left us with a box of stuff right? Things from the island but I didn’t have the painting,”

“Yeah, I have it.” He nibbles on his bottom lip, “Maybe one day when we live together we can put it up…and then one you did of me as well.” He slurs.

“One day.” You grin.

“Oh my god, y/n.” Jimin whines, “You have to move here!”

The rest of the boys start clapping and agreeing, nodding their heads along.

“Wouldn’t that be a culture shock?” Jungkook speaks up, “She doesn’t even speak Korean.”

“Yeah, it would be.” You admit shyly. “But there’s time to think about all of that.”

Taehyung reaches for your hand and squeezes it.

“Yeah.” He agrees.

Jimin slumps his shoulders but smiles for you both anyway. Hobi stands up and offers his hand to you, you look at him quizzically.

“Want to dance?” He asks, “All of us of course, but you’re the lady. So I asked formerly. I don’t know I’m drunk.”

You can’t help but chuckle.

“Yes, let’s all dance!”

You all head to the dance floor, the music is loud and drowning out any and all worries you had about tonight.

“Having fun?” Taehyung brings you in, your back against his chest as he whispers in your ear.

“Time of my life.” You slur out honestly. “I can’t thank you enough for…”

“For what baby?”

“For showing me your world.”

“It can be our world…” He places a kiss on your neck. “One day.”

“I want any world as long as you are in it.” You say breathlessly. “I like your friends a lot.” You tell him and he grins into your neck.

“They’re the best and they will treat you right.” He breathes you in, “I trust them with my life, they’re like brothers.”

“I can tell. They’re a good group of dudes.”

“I can tell they like you too.” He sighs into your hair, “But I like you the most.”

You grind your ass into his crotch in beat with the music, his hands travel all over the front of your body. You two dance like this for a while when a feminine voice cuts through the sound of the music. You and Taehyung both snap your heads in the direction of the voice when you see a girl standing here, her hands on her hips and a look of disappointment on her face.

“Taehyung?” She says, his name sounds wrong on her tongue. This can only be who you think it is.

“Oh hey.” Taehyung awkwardly smiles, “What’s up?”

“Who’s this?” she asks, looking in your direction but she doesn’t look at you directly.

You don’t want to feel intimidated but it’s her. It’s Hana. She is even prettier in person. She’s got two friends with her, but they are talking to the boys.

“This is—”

“I’m y/n.” you say as confidently as possible.

“My girlfriend.” Taehyung says, he reaches for your hand and squeezes it. “y/n this is Hana.”

“Oh, nice to meet you.” You smile, and she scoffs. Fucking scoffs.

“………..” she says in Taehyung’s direction but you have no idea what she said since it was in Korean.

You stand here awkwardly, swaying from side to side as Taehyung talks to her…you wish you knew what they were saying. But you’re almost too drunk to care.

“Excuse us!” you smile, with Taehyung’s hand in yours you drag him to the bar leaving Hana behind.

“y/n.” Taehyung sighs out, “She was just—”

“Huh? It’s fine, Tae. I just wanted a drink and to be spending less time with her and more time with you.”

Taehyung can’t help the smirk that his lips curve into. He grabs you by the hips, pulls you in for a hug then leans away to look at you.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He says before leaning in to kiss you. His tongue prodding its way into your mouth, you moan out loud and swirl your tongue with his. Your kisses are rushed, sloppy and messy. And drunken as fuck.

“You guys are so hot.” Jimin whines as he walk up to you two, ordering his own drink.

You pull away from Taehyung and start laughing.

“Get two more of what you just got.” Taehyung smiles, “On me.”

“Oh hell yeah.” Jimin cheers. Then he is ordering two more drinks as Taehyung slides his card over the bar top.

“I saw you guys talking to Hana…” Jimin whispers to you, “How was that?”

“Don’t care.” You shrug, “She didn’t look very happy to see me though.”

“She was hopeful…” Jimin admits, “That she could get Taehyung to fall in love with her. She had been trying for a long time…then he disappears for 8 months and is in love with someone else. She tried to be understanding but it was still hard on her.”

“But it doesn’t matter,” Taehyung butts in with the drinks, “Because I told her you’re my girlfriend and the one I love so…”

“I know, Tae.” You smile, “I may not understand Korean but I got that much.” You laugh.

Jimin joins you in your giggles as he chugs the entire drink in one go.

“y/n!!” Yoongi stumbles over, “She’s here! She’s here! I need you my wing woman!”

Your eyes crinkle from how hard you are cheesing. You lean up to kiss Taehyung on the lips before walking towards Yoongi and following him to wherever he’s hanging out.

It’s a perfect night so far.

“Hold my hand.” Taehyung slurs with a pout on his lips. “Want to feel you, want to touch you, want to fu—”

“Want to what now?” You laugh into your palm, as you reach for Taehyung’s hand. He holds you close to him as you two walk back to his apartment, his body swaying into yours and yours into his.

“Fuck…I want to fuck you.” He whispers in your ear before he bursts out laughing for no drunken reason.

“I’d let you baby. But sober you would be mad at drunk you.” You slur out yourself, “I know how important waiting is for you.”

“You don’t get it…I don’t want to wait anymore.”

“You’re just drunk.”

“I am drunk but babe, I’m serious.” He tries to give you a straight face. “I feel overwhelmed with love for you.”

You feel your heart doing flips in your chest, you feel butterflies in your stomach and you feel your head going dizzy with affection.

“Really?”

“It went really well tonight.” Taehyung says, “So well that I have decided you are definitely my perfect match and that company did me the biggest favor because how else would I have met you?”

Usually the mention of the company would make you sad or anxious but somehow you feel grateful too.

“Tae…” you squeeze his hand, “My soulmate.” You bump your shoulder into his side.

“We are fucking soulmates.” He says, then he yells it out for the whole street to hear then he’s laughing deeply.

“Fucking soulmates.” He repeats just loud enough for only you to hear.

You two finally get to his apartment, you stumble in and plop yourselves down on the couch. Taehyung pulls you into his lap and starts kissing your neck, your collarbone, you shoulder. His lips devouring every free piece of skin he can find.

“Taehyung…” you moan, “Let’s wait until we are sober.” You breathe out roughly.

Taehyung continues kissing your skin and hums an ‘okay’. He lifts himself off you and gazes into your eyes.

“I will stay awake until I sober up. Until you sober up. Then I am going to make love to you. I am going to fuck you with so much fucking love you will be coming all around my cock time after time. You ready for that baby? You ready to have my cock coming inside you?”

You can’t help but gulp as you blink at him, then you are slowly nodding your head.

“Then let’s drink some water and make out until this room is no longer spinning. We aren’t sleeping tonight.” Taehyung warns in a deep, deep voice.

“We’re really staying awake until we sober up?” you laugh. “Aren’t you afraid we will fall asleep?”

“Baby, knowing that I get to fuck you in a few hours is all the motivation I need to stay awake. I believe you are the same. I know you are desperate for my cock. Desperate for me.”

And you are, you fucking are.

#bts #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #Taehyung smut #Taehyung angst #Taehyung fluff #the island chapter 10

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lunar-wandering · 4 years ago

Text

Glamours and Gauze

well. this fic now wins the title of “longest one shot i’ve ever written”.

seriously, after Shadow Play, the will to write a Macaque fic was way too strong.

Word Count: 6k

Read on Ao3

There was a loud crash outside the noodle shop.

Pigsy paid no attention to it, simply continuing to work in the kitchen, but MK paused mid-sweep of his broom, glancing towards the entrance nervously, bracing himself for a possible enemy attack. (Knowing that the Lady Bone Demon was out there...... one could never be too prepared).

Instead of an enemy however, what stumbled through the door way was a, very visibly injured and bleeding, Monkey King.

"Holy shit, are you okay?!" MK yelped, dropping his broom to the ground as he rushed over to catch Wukong as he stumbled into the shop. A bit of blood dripped down from a rather large gash on the monkey's arm down to the floor. Pigsy would probably murder MK for the stain that would make, but MK was more so concerned about the heavily wounded monkey he held in his arms at the moment. "What happened?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with." Wukong grunted out, standing up a little with a wince, trying to push MK's hands off of him, without much luck. "I just came to get some bandages or whatever, then I'll get out of your hair."

"You- You can't just walk in here bleeding and expect me to not be concerned." MK said, leveling Wukong with what he hoped was a disapproving look, before turning and yelling towards the kitchen. "Pigsy! Monkey King's injured, can you get the first aid kit?"

There was the sound of something dropping in the kitchen, MK had probably startled him, and a bit of shuffling, and then Pigsy rounded the corner, first aid kit in his hands, looking exasperated as well as worried.

"I swear, everyday it's something new with you two." He said, "Come on, lets get him upstairs. The blood will scare away customers if he stays down here."

MK nodded, and despite the Monkey King's quiet protests, managed to drag him up the stairs and into his apartment. Carefully, he directed Wukong into a chair, as Pigsy set the first aid kit down on the kitchen table.

"You already know what to do, right?" Pigsy asked, MK nodding in response. "Good. I have still have some orders to get to, but call for me if you need any extra help."

"Got it. Thanks." MK said, opening the kit and pulling out some gauze and bandages as Pigsy turned and left down the stairs. MK reached into a nearby drawer, pulling out a small hand towel, wetting it with some water from the sink and adding a bit of soap.

"Okay." He said, turning back to Wukong. "I gotta clean your cuts so...... take off your shirt?"

"I can take care of myself, bud." Wukong said, quietly, but still, he complied, his shirt disappearing with a snap of his fingers, allowing MK to get a better look at his injuries. Most of the cuts didn't seem too bad, just surface wounds, but the cut on his arm was still cause for concern. MK was no expert, but it looked deep.

....Probably best to start with the most serious injury first, MK thought, giving Wukong no warning as he pressed the towel to the monkey's arm, cleaning the wound. Wukong yelped a little as he did it, his fur bristling and his tail thrashing in response.

"Sorry, probably should've warned you." MK apologized, trying to ignore the way Wukong's glare pierced into him. He hadn't noticed it before, far too worried about the very injured Monkey King in front of him but something seemed.....off about all of this. He wasn't sure what, and honestly, it could just how worried he was for his mentor's health, and nothing else. But still, his instincts had yet to steer him wrong before....... He shook those thoughts out of his head as he examined the injury. "Hm.... Not as deep as I thought. Good news is, it doesn't seem like you need stitches."

Wukong scoffed a little at that, rolling his eyes in a way that clearly communicated how obvious he felt that statement was. MK chose to ignore it, picking the gauze up off the table and starting to tightly wrap it around the monkey's arm.

"You know, I could've sworn all the stories said you were pretty much invulnerable." MK said, in an attempt to make conversation. The Monkey King had been unusually quiet this whole time, after all.

"Heh. You shouldn't believe every story you hear, bud." Wukong said again, and somehow, that was all it took for things to finally click into place. Sure, the Monkey King called MK 'bud' all the time, along with a variety of other nicknames he'd thrown into the mix, but the way he said it just now, his tone-

MK froze as the dots connected in his mind, slowly glancing up at the monkey's face, finding that the other was purposefully avoiding his gaze.

It didn't take true golden sight to figure out who the person MK was currently bandaging up really was.

Not wanting to seem suspicious, MK slowly went back to winding the gauze around the monkey's arm, trying to sort through his thoughts.

Okay. So. The Six Eared Macaque was currently sitting right in front of him. He was disguised as the Monkey King, who was MK's mentor. The last time MK had seen Macaque, he'd kidnapped his friends, attacked him, but then let them all go, giving MK a cryptid warning as he left. And now-

And now he was injured.

And he'd come to MK for help.

As for why the shadow monkey would turn to him for help, MK had no idea, but. As much as he distrusted Macaque, he couldn't just not help someone who was injured.

Alright. Okay. MK could work with this.

He stayed silent as he continued to treat Macaque's wounds, trying to put his anxiety over the fact that he was treating Macaque, of all people, out of his mind.

"...So." He started, nervously, as he finished wrapping up the last of the cuts. "Uh. Any other injuries I should know about?"

"What?" Macaque asked, sounding somewhat.... dazed and confused. MK had been so deep in his thoughts, he hadn't even noticed that the monkey had been spacing out.

"I asked if you were injured anywhere else." MK repeated, narrowing his eyes as Macaque's eyebrow twitched as he looked away, tail swinging back and forth.

"Uh, no. Don't think so." He muttered, seeming.....unusually quiet and meeker than MK remembered him being. Then again, he was supposed to still be pretending to be Wukong, since he didn't know MK had figured him out yet, but still.

"Well. 'Kay, that's obviously a lie." MK said, crossing his arms. "Seriously, are you injured anywhere else? Did you get hit on the head or something?"

Macaque didn't answer, staring at some point on the nearby wall. MK sighed, taking that as a yes.

So probably a concussion then. That......explained why he'd decided to come here for help, of all places. Or, well, at least explained a bit of it.

MK pulled some ice cubes out of his freezer, putting them in a little plastic bag, before wrapping a cloth around it, and placing it in Macaque's hand.

"What's this for?" Macaque asked.

"Put on your head, wherever it was you got hit. It's for the concussion." MK explained, putting the materials he'd used back into the first aid kit and closing it up. "Stay here. I'm going to bring this back down to Pigsy."

Leaving Macaque alone in MK's apartment was probably not the best decision he could've possibly made, but it really didn't seem like the shadow monkey planned on moving anytime soon, from the way he'd slumped against the chair, holding an makeshift ice pack against the side of his head. With one last look over his shoulder to make sure Macaque hadn't moved, MK turned and walked down the stairs.

He found Pigsy in the kitchen washing dishes, as expected.

"How's the monkey doing?" Pigsy asked, once he'd noticed that MK had entered the room.

"Oh, uh, he's fine, other than the mild concussion, but uh. He's um. Not who we thought he was." MK started, setting the first aid kit back into it's usual spot on a nearby counter. "You remember Macaque, the one from the shadow play a week or so ago?"

Pigsy paused, gently setting a place down into the sink as he turned around to give MK his full attention, wiping the soapy water on his hands off onto a hand towel as he did so.

"You mean to tell me." He said, "That the shadow monkey that attacked us a week ago is up in your apartment? And you just left him there? Alone?"

"He's injured, it's not like he's going to go anywhere." MK said, although he wasn't entirely sure if said statement was even true. "Besides, I think. Well I think there's more to him than meets the eye."

"Look, kid." Pigsy sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I trust your judgement. However, if that monkey makes a single move against you-"

"Then he's out of here, I know." MK said, turning to head back up the stairs. He'd left Macaque alone for long enough, after all. "I assure you Pigsy, if I need help, I'll call for you. Promise."

"....Whatever." Pigsy said, "Just go and keep an eye on him. I'll text the others and tell them what's up."

"Thanks!" MK said, and he rushed back up the stairs.

Macaque wasn't sitting in the chair.

For a brief moment, panic flung through MK's mind, wondering if, he had, in fact, been duped.

But....there was no way someone could fake injuries like that, and nothing seemed to be out of place, the windows and door still closed, so where-

There was some rustling in the living room.

Cautiously, MK slowly walked around the corner-

Macaque was laying, face down, on the couch. His injured arm dangled off the side, his hand barely touching the floor, the ice pack lazily positioned on top of his head. His tail was curled up beside him, still.

He was no longer disguised as Wukong.

MK cautiously approached him, before lightly poking his back.

No reaction, but he still seemed to be breathing normally. He'd probably fallen asleep.

Well.... MK supposed he could leave him be for now. He'd have to wake him up in a few hours or so, both to make sure that the cut on his arm hadn't gotten infected, and to check on that concussion, but as of right now, he could let him rest. He didn't really want to let Macaque out of his sight again though, so instead he grabbed one of his sketchbooks and pencils and sat down on the floor, doodling as he waited.

Macaque woke up to something poking him in the side. He groaned, rolling over-

And tumbled right off the couch and onto the floor with a pained yelp. He landed on his stomach, thankfully not hitting his head again on the way down. Upon this rude awakening, on pure instinct, he immediately shifted back into whatever disguise he'd been wearing before he'd fallen asleep.

Grumbling under his breath, he slowly pushed himself up, looking over to the side.

Oh. And there was Wukong's kid, sitting on the floor, holding his staff and looking both nervous and guilty.

.....Ah, that's right, Macaque had, in a moment of weakness, chosen to go to MK for help. As for what had been going through his mind when he'd chosen to do that, Macaque had no idea, but at least he'd disguised himself as Wukong first-

Wait. His disguise. He'd fallen asleep.

.....How long had the kid been sitting there? Had he seen-

"I'm sorry!" MK squeaked out, distracting Macaque from his thoughts. "I had to wake you up- to check on your injuries. I didn't think you'd uh. Fall."

Macaque did his best attempt at a 'Sun Wukong Original Smile'. He think he only half succeeded.

"It's uh, fine, bud." Macaque said, mentally trying to pull himself together. Come on, he's an actor, he acts every time he has to interact, he can do this. "You uh, did a good job, but I think I'm mostly healed by now already so I'll just get out of your way-"

"Wait." MK interrupted, and Macaque, who had stood up and turned to walk towards the door, froze mid-step.

He could not do this.

"You don't....need to stay disguised as Monkey King." MK said, and Macaque's fur bristled. Fuck, he'd been found out already, time to get the hell out of dodge-

"Ohoho? So you've figured me out already huh?" Macaque said, letting his Wukong glamour drop, but keeping his other ones, his most important ones, up. He pulled the shadows closer to himself, to make a more threatening appearance. "Hah, I guess every fool has moments of lucidity. Well, I've got all I wanted-" That was a lie, he'd gotten nothing, but might as well make the kid panic for a while wondering what he'd taken, right? That's what villains did, right? "-So I'll just be on my way now. See you later, bud."

Macaque turned, fully intending to walk into the shadows on the wall and teleport away-

The front door swung open, and the lights, which Macaque hadn't even registered had been off, switched on, flooding the room with light. The shadows crumbled in the brightness-

And Macaque smacked right into the wall.

He fell back to the floor, hissing in pain, his tail swishing as his previous wounds, both from the earlier fight and from falling off the couch, were agitated. He rubbed his head as a new batch of pain swept through it.

"MK!" He heard Mei shout, as she came in through the door, a true storm of energy. "I came as soon as I could- is that him?"

Macaque, still rubbing his head, (he was pretty sure his concussion from the fight was gone by now, but honestly he might've just gotten a brand new one), glanced up, seeing that Mei was looking at him with an appraising gaze.

"He doesn't really look all that menacing without the cloak to be honest." She said, shrugging. Macaque blinked at her, confused.

"What? No, you know what, it doesn't matter, I'm leaving." He said, standing up and dusting off his outfit, trying to put what had just happened as far away from his current thoughts as possible. (Later, he told himself, later he could scream into a pillow about how fucking embarrassing what just happened was. But he couldn't focus on it, not now.). With as much dignity he could muster at the moment, he slipped past Mei, walking out the door she'd left wide open.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Someone asked, and Macaque abruptly felt something grab onto his scarf. He stumbled, turning around to see who'd grabbed him, only to find himself standing in front of a large, blue, fish demon.

Ah. This must be that 'Sandy' that Tang had mentioned. Macaque had never met him, and honestly, right now, he really didn't want to.

"Ah, I was just leaving-" He started, tugging on his scarf, trying to get Sandy to let go.

His grip didn't even waver.

"But I haven't even gotten the chance to meet you yet!" Sandy said, easily scooping Macaque up despite the shadow monkey's protests. "Come on back in, I'll even make you some tea!"

Was literally anything going to go as planned today?

Apparently not, as Sandy unceremoniously dropped Macaque back onto the couch, the monkey scrambling to right himself so that he didn't go tumbling off the piece of furniture again.

"What kind of tea do you like?" Sandy asked, "Mint? Peach?"

"I don't like peaches." Macaque hissed, "And I don't like tea."

"Coffee then?" Sandy asked, and proceeded to take Macaque's silence as a yes.

"There's some instant coffee in the 3rd cupboard on the right." MK instructed, and Sandy nodded, heading into the kitchen and quickly setting up a teapot of water on the stove to boil.

"So~" Mei started, plopping herself down on the couch beside Macaque, showing a surprising lack of fear at his presence. "What exactly are you doing here, huh? You going to kidnap our souls again?"

"Oh for the love of- no, the lamp is gone anyways." Macaque huffed, keeping his eyes on the kitchen. He wasn't a fool, he knew a powerful demon when he saw one. Sure, Sandy was only making tea right now, but he'd have to be extra careful around him in the future. "I would've left already if you guys didn't keep trying to keep me here, for some stupid reason I can't even begin to comprehend."

"Well, after much debate, we've decided to attempt to add you to our anti-hit list." MK said, casually leaning against a wall. If the room had been darker, Macaque would've taken great pleasure in having his shadow appear behind him to freak him out a little, but as it was right now....

"What the fuck is an anti-hit list?" Macaque asked, genuinely confused, but didn't get an answer as Sandy walked out, carrying a tray with four cups, three filled with tea, one with coffee, and a small plate of cookies and fruits. He set them down on a small table that, to be honest, Macaque hadn't even noticed. MK and Mei happily picked up their cups, sipping at their tea. Macaque didn't touch his cup, staring at it with obvious distrust.

"Aren't you going to drink your coffee?" MK asked.

"How am I meant to know it's not poisoned?" Macaque scoffed in response.

"Because Sandy would never do that? I can taste test it for you, if you really want me to-" MK said.

"No thanks, don't want to be contaminated with your dirty Monkey King Successor Saliva." Macaque said, smirking when MK sighed in irritation. Good, maybe if he got under the kid's nerves, he'd let him leave.

"Why don't you try some of the cookies and fruits then?" MK asked, biting into one of the said snacks, "The rest of us are eating them without a care, so they're not poisoned."

"You could just be avoiding the ones that you poisoned so that I'll eat them." Macaque said, relishing in how MK huffed, rolling his eyes. "I'm not going to be fooled so easily. You do remember who I am, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, the Six Eared Macaque or whatever." MK grumbled, and Mei stifled a laugh.

"Kind of a weird name for someone who doesn't have six ears." She said, before pausing. "...Wait, do you have six ears?"

"...It's more of a nickname, really." Macaque mumbled, eyebrow twitching, suddenly very much disliking where this conversation was going. He stood up, pushing the cup that he hadn't bothered to drink out of to the side. "Anyways, I think I've overstayed my welcome here, so if you don't mind-"

"Not so fast." Sandy said, stopping Macaque before he could even take a step.

"What now?" Macaque hissed, glaring at him.

Sandy grabbed hold of Macaque's hand and dropped a tea bag into it.

"I know you said you didn't like tea-" He said, "-But I figured you should take some with you anyways. This one specifically is good for relaxing!"

Macaque rolled his eyes, but he still shoved the tea bag into his pocket, something the others took note of. With a quick glance at MK and Mei to make sure they weren't going to try and stop him again, Macaque finally, finally, left.

Cursing himself with every step he took, Macaque snuck into MK's kitchen, pulling out the tea bag Sandy had given him. He'd tried, oh he'd tried, to rest on top of the roof but, as he was right now, he wouldn't be getting any sleep.

Sandy had said this tea was good for relaxation. He could probably trust that, just a little bit.

Keeping an ear (or two. or three. or four-) out to make sure MK didn't wake up, Macaque slowly and quietly set up the tea kettle on the stove. He pulled a mug out of one of the cupboards, and set it down on the counter. Restlessly, he tapped his foot on the ground as he waited for the water to boil.

Really, he'd rather be anywhere but here, in the middle of the night, making tea in the apartment of Wukong's Successor.

But, truthfully, he didn't exactly have a choice in the matter. The Lady Bone Demon obviously had records of all the places Macaque would usually hide out. He wasn't very keen on getting captured again when he'd only just barely escaped.

Right now, staying close to MK was probably the safest place he could be. The kid was under Wukong's protection after all.

...Whether or not Wukong would arrive in time to maintain said protection was up for debate, but the kid is powerful. He'd be enough.

Macaque barely managed to get the kettle off the stove before it started whistling. He poured the water into his cup, blew on it to cool it down, and took a sip.

...Huh. So Sandy hadn't been lying. The tea actually was pretty good, and Macaque found himself leaning against the counter lazily as he continued to sip it. To be honest, he hasn't eaten or drunk anything in... a while, technically he didn't really need to, he could live without it, but. Something about this was... nice, he supposed.

He felt a bit more relaxed than before, almost enough to no longer notice the small aching pains of his healing injuries-

The cut on his arm throbbed with an extreme amount of pain, and Macaque tensed, tail curling up, doing a full body shudder-

The cup went tumbling to the floor.

MK woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of a crash and quiet swearing coming from the kitchen. Quickly, he shot out of bed, summoning his staff and rounding the corner-

He just barely caught a glimpse of a shadow slipping back out through the window.

Keeping his guard up, MK slowly reached over and flicked on the lights.

There was nobody there.

But somebody had been there- The kettle was not where he'd left it earlier, and-

There was a broken cup laying on the floor, some remnant drops of tea around it, as well as a very familiar tea bag.

MK sighed, putting the staff away and getting his broom out of the closet instead. He swept up the broken pieces, throwing them into the garbage can. He paused for a moment, thinking. Then, he activated his golden vision, and looked up.

Sure enough, he could see a faint golden outline of Macaque pacing on the roof.

MK debated, for a while, whether or not he should go up there and confront him. After all, an explanation as to why Macaque had broken into his apartment in the middle of the night just to make tea, instead of drinking it earlier when they offered, would be nice information to have.

On the other hand though, MK was tired, and it was late, and honestly, from the way Macaque was pacing, it didn't look like he'd be leaving the roof anytime soon.

MK turned around and went back to bed.

When MK climbed the ladder to the roof in the morning, still clad in his pyjama's, his phone tucked in his pocket, the roof seemed to be empty.

MK had long since learned that when things involved Macaque, not everything was as it seemed.

Specifically, a bunch of shadows on the nearby wall looked rather suspicious, if you were asking him. He dug his phone out and turned on the flashlight, shining it over the shadowy spot.

Almost immediately, Macaque fell out of the, now non-existent, shadows, barely catching himself from having another close encounter with the ground. He stumbled a little, clearly off balance. For a moment he looked like he hadn't slept at all, his fur mussed, bags under his eyes-

MK didn't get to see much of it, for as soon as he blinked, Macaque was back to looking the same way he always did.

"Would you stop doing that?" Macaque hissed, glaring at him. MK blinked, turning off the flash and pocketing his phone again.

"Uh. Good morning?" MK said, and, seeing no way to phrase the question delicately, asked; ".....Why did you break into my apartment in the middle of the night?"

"Heh, what are you talking about?" Macaque said, sliding back into his 'cool and composed' persona almost effortlessly. "You must've dreamed it, bud."

MK, in fact, had considered the possibility that it had been a dream when he woke up in the morning. However, the broken porcelain and used tea bag laying in his trashcan proved otherwise. He was about to point this out- when a familiar dull pang ran through his head.

Oh shit, not now.

"Hey, bud!" The Monkey King's voice said, a golden see through version of him appearing at MK's side. "I uh, know I kinda brushed you off the last time, sorry about that, but I figured I'd check in and see how you were doing!"

"Not now, Monkey King." MK whispered, under his breath, but of course, Macaque still heard it.

"Monkey King?" He questioned, before registering the way MK was looking slightly to the side, a slight golden glow reflecting in his eyes. "Ah. He's doing the astral projecting thing, isn't he."

MK didn't answer, instead trying to give Wukong the hint that now was not the time.

"Why, are you busy with something? Meh, I'm sure it's nothing you can't handle." Wukong said, and MK sighed. "Look, my vacation will be over soon, okay? There's just a few more uh, friends I need to visit, and then-"

A hand landed on MK's shoulder, and he barely restrained himself from startling as another, different pang ran through his mind.

"Monkey King! Good to see ya, bud." Macaque said, sarcasm colouring his voice. "How's your little vacation treating you huh?"

"Macaque." Wukong hissed, looking shocked, but quickly transitioning into anger. "What are you doing with MK?"

"Me? Why would you assume I've done anything to your little apprentice?" Macaque said, "You should be thinking about what you've done, honestly."

"Wh- what are you going on about now?" Wukong asked. Macaque laughed.

"Seriously? You need me to explain it to you? Oh, that's rich." He said, "Wukong, you really need to learn how to take a step back and see the world outside of you, because you obviously haven't realized that you've left your successor behind."

"I- I haven't left him behind." Wukong said, although the glance he sent in MK's direction spoke volumes about how much he actually believed that. "I'm coming right back, MK, as soon as this is done. I promise."

"Oho, we all know exactly how good you are with promises, Wukong." Macaque said, his tail thrashing back and forth. Wukong looked pained for a moment-

And then the connection cut off, Wukong not even saying goodbye as his see through form turned around before fading away. Macaque took his hand off MK's shoulder, laughing in a way that felt....forced.

"Ha....same old Monkey King, huh." He said, crossing his arms. "As much as he tries to insist other wise, he really does never change."

"What, was that?" MK asked, looking Macaque up and down. He'd stayed quiet during their conversation, but now... "Seriously dude, what the fuck?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." Macaque said, waving him off. "Anyways, what are you doing on the rooftop this lovely morning?"

"I should be asking you that." MK responded, "Also, don't think I don't realize that you're attempting to deflect."

"Deflection who? Never heard of her." Macaque said, sitting down on the edge of the roof, his legs swinging off the side. "Besides, don't you have a job to do?"

MK looked down at the clock on his phone. 9:30 am. Shit, Macaque was right, MK did have to be getting to work.

"This conversation isn't over." He said. Macaque pretended like he didn't hear him.

When MK finally got a break and headed back up to the roof, the shadow monkey was gone.

Macaque ended up showing up in the noodle shop, two days later.

Tang had nearly choked on his noodles when the monkey had suddenly appeared out of nowhere beside him, barely keeping himself from yelling in surprise. Macaque hadn't even glanced at him, resolutely staring down at the counter instead. Everything about his body language implied that he'd rather be anywhere but here.

So..... why was he here?

Everyone very much wanted to ask, but one look from Pigsy shut them up. They all knew Pigsy's habit of helping people, MK and Tang had experienced it first hand after all, and they deferred to his judgement on things like this.

So they let Macaque be, silently sitting on the stool, his tail swinging back and forth.

Pigsy pulled MK into the kitchen.

"Kid," He started, "When you patched up Macaque, how much gauze did you use, exactly?"

"Only enough to wrap up his arm." MK answered, "There was plenty left afterwards. Why?"

"And you made sure to put it back in the kit?"

"Yeah.....why are you asking me this?"

Pigsy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I was doing inventory earlier- checking to see what things I'd need to stock up on. Figured I'd check the first aid kit too, since you'd used it." Pigsy said, "The gauze is gone kid. And I mean like, gone, gone. There ain't any left at all. Like it was never there in the first place."

"That's....weird." MK said, scratching his head. "Who would want to steal gauze?"

"That's what I'm wondering too."

Red Son happened to visit the noodle shop that day. He paused as he entered through the door, noting the monkey demon sitting at the counter, resting his head on one hand.

"...I see you peasants have forced another person into your friend group from hell." He said to Mei, leaning up against a wall. Mei elbowed him in the stomach in response.

"You say that as though you aren't also part of our friend group." She said, rolling her eyes. Red Son huffed, but didn't argue with her claim, so she took that as a win. "Also, he isn't exactly in the friend category yet. We're working on it."

"If he isn't in the friend category, then why is he even here?" Red Son asked, "It's not every day a random demon monkey decides to just hang out in a noodle shop, of all places."

"First of all, his name is Macaque." MK said, walking over to where Mei and Red Son were standing, holding a broom in his hand, since he'd just finished sweeping up the kitchen. "Secondly, we're not sure why he's here. He just kinda, showed up."

"And don't diss the noodle shop either." Mei said, "We all know you like it here as much as we do."

"Whatever." Red Son said, before turning to MK with narrowed eyes. "Anyways, are you okay, Noodle Boy?"

"....What do you mean?" MK asked.

"I can smell blood."

Unseen to the group of three, Macaque tensed, head snapping up as he looked over to them.

"I'm fine though?" MK said, a questioning lilt in his voice. "I haven't fought...anyone, really, in over a week, and I don't think I've cut myself on anything.... Are you sure the spices aren't messing with you?"

"It's kind of hard to mistake the smell of blood, Noodle Boy." Red Son said, rolling his eyes.

Macaque slowly stood up, starting to make his way towards the door. Unfortunately for him, this movement caught Mei's attention.

"Where are you going?" She asked, drawing MK and Red Son's attention to Macaque who, upon realizing he'd been noticed, stepped forwards much quicker, looking like he was about to run-

He stumbled, one hand going up to his head, his other arm waving off to the side as he struggled for balance, tumbling backwards. MK dropped the broom and caught him before he could hit the ground. In front of the group's eye's, Macaque's form seemed to glitch, revealing, for a moment, mussed up fur, a scar over his eye, six ears-

And blood soaked gauze wrapped around his arm.

Almost as soon as they'd seen it, it was gone again, replaced with Macaque's usual look.

There was silence, for a moment.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" MK asked.

"I'm fine." Macaque hissed, attempting to shove MK's hands off of him, struggling. When he found that he couldn't, he stopped, slumping a little. "Put me down."

"No no no, we're not going to pretend that we didn't just see that." MK said, adjusting his grip and lifting Macaque up.

"Wh- what are you doing, I said to put me down, not pick me up." Macaque said, fur bristling. "Also, you didn't see anything. You're hallucinating."

"Stop deflecting." MK said, gesturing vaguely for Mei and Red Son to follow him, as he carried the monkey up the stairs. "If you're still hurt, we need to treat it."

Macaque didn't respond, and MK looked down to see that his eyes were closed, his form flickering again.

"Huh. I guess he really does have six ears." Mei said from behind him.

"Now is not the time, Dragon Girl." Red Son said. MK ignored them as he unlocked the door to his apartment, walking into the living room and laying Macaque down on the carpet. He might regret that later, blood stains were hell to wash out, but that was a problem for future MK.

Macaque's form flickered again, except this time, it stayed on the version of him that looked.... well if MK was being honest, he looked awful. His face was pale, and his fur looked like it hadn't been brushed in weeks.

Not to mention the bloody gauze around his arm.

MK made quick work of removing it, wincing whenever Macaque whimpered in pain in response to the injury being touched. As soon as the injury was uncovered, the trio sucked in a horrified breath.

"...I don't understand." MK whispered, "He's a demon, demons heal quickly right? He got this injury at least 3 days ago, so why is it-"

"It's cursed." Red Son said, sounding terrified, for once. "He's been struck by a cursed blade. Whoever did this really does want him dead."

"What do we do?" MK asked, "We can't just let him... let him bleed to death."

"You mentioned before that Wukong has a room full of items, back on Flower Fruit Mountain?" Red Son asked. MK nodded in response. "He probably has something there that could help."

MK, who had kneeled on the floor to check Macaque's injury, quickly stood up, summoning the staff.

"Mei, get Pigsy and the others. They'll probably be better at taking care of him right now than we are." He said, before turning back to Red Son. "How will I know if I've found something that will help?"

"Truthfully, I couldn't tell you." Red Son said, shrugging. "I've never had to deal with something like this before. ...I'm sure you'd know when you see it though."

"Oh, sure, that's real helpful." MK said, sarcastically, and proceeded to turn and run out the door.

"Seriously why does Monkey King have so much stuff!" MK yelled, throwing a box of jewels at a wall. He'd been searching frantically through the mountains of items for.... about ten minutes, and he was, honestly, tired of it. "Would it kill him to hold a garage sale once in a while? Maybe then I'd actually be able to find shit!"

"Hey, each of these items are near and dear to me, I'll have you know."

MK yelped, summoning the staff as he whirled around, coming face to face with none other than Sun Wukong himself.

"Monkey King!" MK said, "You're back?"

"Yep, managed to get all that I- uh, I mean, I managed to catch up with everyone." Wukong said, lazily laying back on his cloud. "Anyways, mind telling me what you're doing in my storage room?"

"...You're not going to like the answer to that." MK nervously rubbed the back of his neck. He knew that Macaque and Wukong had a history, and although he didn't know the full details, he knew that the two of them didn't get along now. Truthfully, he had no idea if Wukong would even be willing to help Macaque at all.

MK himself wasn't entirely sure why he was helping him either, really, he'd done nothing to warrant it.

But then again, he hadn't done anything that warranted a slow death via bleeding out either.

"I'm sure that whatever it is can't be that bad." Wukong said, "It takes a lot to surprise me, kid."

"Macaque is currently bleeding out on my carpet."

"He's what?!"

When Macaque woke up, he was back on the couch again. He vaguely recalled passing out after MK had carried him up the stairs, but to be honest, that whole event was.... a little blurry for him. He thinks he woke up a few more times afterwards, but between the blurry faces and surprisingly muffled sounds, he can't make heads or tails of what happened.

He sighed, not really wanting to get up yet, snuggling back down into the couch-

He can hear another heartbeat. There's someone in the room with him.

Macaque sat up laser fast, throwing his usual glamours back on.

"Ah ah ah, none of that now."

Something lightly tapped his shoulder, and Macaque's glamour dissolved completely as a slight golden light went over him.

He turned his head to see Wukong sitting on the edge of the couch.

"Don't want you to pass out on us again after we just healed you." He said, "Seriously, try to keep from using a lot of magic in the next few days. You'll heal faster."

"Oh that's rich, coming from Mr. 'I can't stay in bed for 2 hours'. You don't think I've forgotten when you got hit with that energy depletion curse, did you?" Macaque retorted, crossing his arms. Wukong gave a nervous laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"To be honest, I was hoping you did forget that, actually." He said.

"Please. As though I'd ever forget something that led to the honorable Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, walking right into a tree." Macaque said, a smirk on his face.

They were both avoiding talking about what had happened between them. Neither of them truly felt they were ready for that yet.

They were in MK's apartment though, so they could at least try to avoid an actual fight.

"What's this I hear about Monkey King walking into a tree?" MK said, walking into the room. Pigsy and Mei followed close behind him.

"Ah, it's nothing, he's just lying like always. The medicine is probably making him think of things that aren't true." Wukong said, and Macaque rolled his eyes.

"If you give me some plums later, I'll tell you all about it, MK." Macaque said, ignoring Wukong's protests. "Monkey King needs to get knocked down a peg or two, in my opinion."

"MK, I swear if you agree to that-" Wukong warned.

"Deal." MK said, holding out his hand for Macaque to shake. Wukong yelled in outrage as Macaque laughed.

"Heh, nice to see the two of you actually getting along, for once." Pigsy said, leaning over the back of the couch as he ruffled the fur on the top of both Wukong and Macaque's heads.

Both monkeys froze.

"....You two okay?" MK asked. Wukong and Macaque glanced at each other. An agreement had been made.

They would never speak of this.

In near perfect sync, the both of them leapt off the couch, turning and running off in different directions, Wukong going out a window, while Macaque chose the slightly more reasonable option of going out the door.

MK, Mei, and Pigsy stood there in shock for a moment, as they watched the two monkeys get further away.

".....Stupid touch starved monkeys." Pigsy sighed, turning and heading back down to the restaurant. He'd had enough Monkey Madness for one day.

MK and Mei glanced at each other, and then back in the directions Wukong and Macaque had gone.

"Uhh, I go get Monkey King, you go get Macaque?" MK said.

"You wanna make it a race? See who can get one of them to come back first?" Mei asked.

"Absolutely. Ready?"

"As always."

"Then 3, 2, 1, go!" MK yelled, and two of them ran off, chasing after Wukong and Macaque.

#Monkie Kid #fanfic #my writing

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maybe-its-micheal · 4 years ago

Text

Ghostbur tapped his feet against the ground, creating a rhythmic sound that made him smile. His shoes made such a nice sound against the blackstone bricks, he thought. Wait... blackstone? Where was there blackstone?

He checked his surroundings. Oh! The nether hub! Why was he here again? He didn't remember. He walked over to the edge, thinking maybe if he saw whatever he was here for it would jog his memory, but all he saw was lots of lava.

He looked down. "You know, someone could fall down there. Maybe someone should build a fence," he said absent mindedly, before heading back through the portal. He had many books to read back home! And lots of people to speak with

-----

The nights seemed to last longer every time Tommy tried to sleep. He turned over in bed, knocking against the white wool that made up the sides of his tent. This sent rainwater cascading down from the thin material, soaking him.

"MMMMMM, FUCK!" Tommy yelled, sitting up. If he couldn't sleep before, he certainly wouldn't be able to now. He got up out of bed and stepped outside the tent. This, of course, only served to expose him to more rain, but he hardly cared. He needed some fresh air.

He marched across the beach down to logstedshire, but paused at the enterence. What was the point in going in? It was empty anyway- Wilbur was back in L'manburg, he had been for days. He turned around to walk in the other direction, mud splashing against his shoes.

As he walked he thought of Tubbo. He was so impossibly angry about his banishment, and he knew it was Tubbo who gave the order, but he couldn't bring himself to hate them. He would have loved to point his finger at Dream, or George, or anyone else for that matter, but what would be the point in that? It's not like he could fight back, he had nothing, and so he was left with only one man to blame it on- himself.

He moved a lock of soaked hair away from his eyes. Burning down George's house was probably the thing he regretted most in all his time here. He wished more than anything that he could go back and just not do it- but what's the point in wishing? He's already been exiled. He may as well put up with it.

The splash of his shoes against the wet ground slowed to a stop. He may as well... put up with it. He sniffed, and moved his hands upward to his face. May as well put up with it. He looked at them through the darkness, they were shaking, and covered in small bruises and scratches he'd collected while scavenging. Put up with it. Rain blurred his vision, and his hands became two unidentifiable blobs that faded into the rest of the dark. Put up with it. The rain was so cold- why did he come out here? Put up with it. He shook his head, sending droplets flying off of his hair in every direction. Put up with it. He was shivering. Put up with it. Put up with it. Put. Up. With. It.

His knees buckled and he fell to the ground with a pained yell. His tears mixed with the rain as he cried out every name he could think of. He wanted them back! He wanted L'manburg back! He just wanted to go back- why was he here? Why did he have to be away from everyone?

"QUCKITY!" He sobbed. "Wilbur! FUNDY! Please! PLEASE! TUBBO! TUBBO PLEASE!" But he knew none of them could hear him. They were a thousand blocks away, sleeping soundly. They were all together- happy, and at home. "Tubbo... Tubbo please..."

But what was the point in yelling for people who couldn't hear him anyway? He put his head in his hands as his crying got quieter and quieter- he tried to wipe his face dry, but his hands were just as wet. "Fuck this rain."

He got up, and trudged over to his nether portal. As soon as he stepped in the rain evaporated off of him; he was warm and dry, at least, but still not ready to go back to his tent. His bed was covered in rain anyway, so what would be the point of going back?

He chose a random direction and walked some more, not really caring where he ended up. He couldn't stop thinking... Tubbo really did choose appeasing Dream over him. He really did say the discs were meaningless. How many days had it been? It didn't matter, he still couldn't believe it anyway. He hardly believed he was out here alone... how could that happen?

He had a secret world in his heart. A world where Wilbur never died, and Techno never fought against L'manburg. A world where he had all of his discs, and he listened to them with Tubbo at the end of every day while they watched the sunset. Sometimes he retreated to that world when the real one became too harsh... but he always had to come back.

He was standing in the middle of the nether hub, right outside the portal to the community house. He noticed that he was still shivering, which was odd. The nether is so hot.

He swished his hand through the purple smoke of the portal. On the other side... was a world he was no longer a part of. His brother who betrayed him, and his brother who died. His best friend, who stabbed him in the back. His discs, in the hands of people he didn't trust, and his nation so far alienated from its original purpose that he could hardly call it L'manburg.

He moved his hand back out, purple dust swirling around his fingers for a few moments. He thought for the first time... maybe he didn't want to be a part of that world anyway. He retreated back to the world in his heart... that was the world that was his true home.

He closed his eyes as he walked out of the main portal room, and down the suspended blackstone bridge. He could see Tubbo... no longer in a stuffy suit acting all important, but in his ussual green button down. They were laughing. Tommy smiled, still walking, eyes still closed, and began to laugh as well.

Wilbur was there. He was alive, and sane. Phil and Techno were there too... and Quckity, and Fundy, and Niki, and everyone. And they were all laughing. Tommy's feet stumbled about over the path, landing sloppily against the blackstone, laughing so hard he almost lost his balance. He laughed, and laughed, and-

His eyes shot open. As his weight shifted from one foot to the other, he realized there was nothing beneath it. He tipped backwards, body falling towards the lava put hundred of blocks below. He gasped, and just as quickly as the realization that he wouldn't survive set in, and hand wrapped around his wrist, and he was pulled back onto the bridge.

Dream.

"Tommy! What are you doing? Its 4 am, and you just- are you ok? What are you laughing at?" His voice was higher than ussual, strained by panic.

Tommy caught his breath. "I didn't..." his eyes met Dream's. "Did I just..."

It was clear his mind was racing, and he had no idea what to say. Dream sighed. "You need to be more careful, this is the nether." He shut his eyes tight and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to recollect his thoughts. "Do you want me to walk you back home?"

Tommy looked up at him. Home.

For a moment- just a moment, less than a second- he thought he meant the home he'd imagined, but before he said yes it all came rushing back. He didnt mean home. He didnt mean L'manburg where everyone he cared about was- he meant the place he was exiled to. To the world he didn't want to live in.

His faced scrunched up with frustration as he faced the Green Man, hate burning in his eyes. He did want to go home. But he didn't have one anymore.

He looked at him- he symbolized every aspect of this world he hated. But then he closed his eyes, and he was back in his L'manburg. "Where did you go, Tommy?" His Wilbur asked him. "Let's all go back to the van- I'll play us a song!" He smiled again.

"Tommy?" Dream asked, but Tommy didn't hear. Tommy wasn't a part of his world anymore.

"There he is!" Tubbo called. "Hey big man! Come on, you're late!" He slowly picked up a foot, swinging it backwards ever so slowly. Dream didn't notice.

"I'm coming, Tubbo," Tommy whispered. "What?" Dream asked. "I'm coming home."

His foot was back, dangling over the lava again. He shifted his weight to it, and with a smile, he made his choice. He'd never have to leave his world again. He was finally home.

"TOMMY!" Dream shouted, lunging forward with arms outstretched. He missed, just barely, and the teen fell over the edge of the bridge, plummeting down, down, down... Dream wasted no time, biting into a god apple and throwing himself down after him, but as they both reached the bottom it was too late. He wasn't able to hold his body over the lava, and after a few minutes of struggling, there was nothing recognizable left- just blood that ran down both of Dream's arms and stained his white mask.

He couldn't breath- what had he just witnessed? How had he failed? Was it his fault? Guilt and nausea began to set in as he floated there- alone in the lava. A killer in a way he never could have imagined he would be. He felt sick.

-----

Ghostbur returned to the nether the next morning- netherwart! That's what he needed! He stepped through the portal, only to find Dream waiting on the other side.

"Hello Dream!" He greeted with a smile. "I'm here for some netherwart so I can make more potions!"

Dream didn't answer him, he must be busy. Ghostbur's eyes danced around the hub- what would be the best direction to go?

"Wilbur..." Dream choked out.

"Yes?" The ghost replied.

"Tommy is dead..."

"Who?" He asked in his high, scratchy voice. He ambled care free down the path, dragging his hand across the walls that lined the edges. "Oh! They've added barriers! How handy!" He exclaimed to himself

#suicide tw #tw suicide #its 5 am rn and i didnt proof read please cut me some slack <3 #mcyt #dreamwastaken #wilbur soot #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt fanfic #tommy innit #tommyinnit #dream smp #dreamsmp #dreamsmp fanfic #dream smp fanfic #dream smp fanfiction #dreamsmp fanfiction #mcty angst #angst #ghostbur

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thr-333 · 4 years ago

Text

Drastic Measures- Part 2

@daminette-december2019-2020

~Swordplay~

To summarise: I will have the love square one way or another!

Ao3

First >Next

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

As far as homes go it’s pretty good” Adrien stretches out, Plagg curls up next to him.

“Don't get too comfortable we’re going to be on the move,” Marinette types furiously at her computer.

“I will try my hardest,” Adrien stares blankly at her, sat atop a pile of grubby blankets next to a broken window. Marinette loses connection to her computer and slams it shut with a huff.

“Get some sleep I’m going to find an internet cafe,” Marinette stuffs the cheap laptop into her bag, amazing how something she bought at a hole in the wall place for thirty bucks didn’t work well.

“Who needs sleep when you can have coffee,” Adrian stands up, ready to follow her.

“Sleep Chat,” She pushes him down by the shoulders, “I need my partner fully operational,”

“Yeah kid, take a break, we worked hard,” Plagg yawns, turning over.

“You also worked hard Bug,” Adrien lets himself be pushed back onto the blankets.

“I won't be able to sleep until I know how everything is in Paris,”

“Neither can I,” Adrien protests, already half asleep.

“Sure you can, night Chat,”

“Night M’lady,”

Marinette leaves the same way they came in, though the window. She has to slide down the gutter to get on the street, Tikki hiding away in her bag. She has to go pretty far in town to find a suitable cafe, too far from Adrien to be comfortable. Marinette pops in her earbuds before opening her computer to let her talk to Tikki freely.

She doesn't immediately search up missing person cases. Looking instead at Paris tourist destinations and guides. Switching to the dangers of traveling to Paris; the only mention of Akuma being on obscure question and answer sites. She looks at kidnapping potential and then moves onto missing person cases. Adrien's is the first to come up, obviously.

There was lots of outcry among his fans. Many were throwing around accusations of foul play on Gabriel's part from abuse to locking Adrien away from the world. However, Gabriel was also fiercely looking for his son. Adrien hadn’t left behind any sort of note. Well only to Nino, which Adrien had told Marinette was asked not to mention to anyone.

Marinette then feels safe enough to look up her own case. It was smaller, although was gaining attention as Jagged proclaimed it to high heavens; more so asking what they did wrong and how they could fix it and asking for any sightings of her. That could be a problem if her picture was already around. Marinette pulls her hood up higher. They might have to get haircuts and wear disguises… on second thought wearing suspicious disguises in Gotham might cause more problems.

“Tikki they seem really worried,” Marinette watches the videos Jagged posted, her parents in the background running around talking with police.

“Of course they are Mari,” Marinette feels a light tap on her side, “But you're doing the right thing,”

“No I’m not,” not when she’s watching a video of her parents crying, “I’m doing what needs to be done, this is my responsibility, no matter what a certain someone thinks,”

She spits with venom. Maybe Adriens rant last night rubbed off on her.

“He’s the hero here,” Tiki says non accusingly, “Imagine if another hero came to Paris without asking you… remember Volpina?”

“Ah now that was an actual villain,” Marinette hadn’t trusted her from the start, “Plus she was akumatized,”

“Marinette,” Marinette can’t bring herself to feel guilty, even under tikis scolding.

“Right but that still doesn't give him the right,” Marinette huffs, “After all would he attack Marinette? No!”

“Are you implying you would attack Lila?”

“......... no,”

“Marinette,”

Marinetti smirks to herself instinctively looking around for Adrien to share her joke. Then Marinette froze. The cafe was empty, not even a barista. How had she not noticed!?

“Wait,” Marinetti says out loud before Tiki could talk, “I’m going to have to call you back, something just came up,”

Something was watching her from the kitchen door as if she couldn’t see them. Marinette tries to act normal going for the pepper on the table and putting it on her food. They move at the same time. The attacker runs towards her, Marinette throws the shaker at- Robin?! It hits him square in the forehead, with a curse he touches his bleeding forehead.

“I am so sorry!” Marinette panics, “That was meant to explode in your face!”

“How is that better?!” Robin runs forward, sword drawn. Marinette ducks behind the table grabbing her plate and frisbeeing it towards him, he manages to dodge this one, “Draw your weapon coward!"

“I don’t have a weapon!” She grabs the table cloth ready to take the vigilante down, “What is wrong with you?!”

He doesn't answer lunging at her again with the sword. Marinette kicks up the table then kicks it towards him in one swift movement. With the impact of the table he drops the sword, Marinette jumps up landing on the table which pins Robin down to the ground with its weight and hers, with the legs sticking up.

“I knew it,” Robin spits and she presses her weight into the table to keep him pinned.

“Excuse you,” Marinette catches his wrist as he tries to pull a dagger on her using the table cloth to tie it to the legs of the table, then does the same with the other, “You attacked me,”

“-Robin!” she hears a faint call, no one is around so it must be from his communicator, “-Robin report back to the cave!”

“I’ll take that~” Marinette sings songs ignoring how he growls at her. She rolls her eyes stepping off the table she needed to get out of here now.

She steps out of the cafe throwing the communicator and likely a tracking device too on the roof of a passing car then sprints in the opposite direction. She heads for the alleys looking for an area with no cameras as she runs. When she finds a spot Marinette transforms running back to their base with record timing.

“Adrien wake up!” Ladybug jumps through the window, barely avoiding landing on him, “Batman’s after us,”

“What?!” He sits bolt upright, Ladybug pulls him onto his feet.

“Move! Now!” She grabs their bags, Adrien transforms and they take off over the rooftops.

“What happened?!” Chat shouts as the runaway, “Is Batman chasing us?”

“Yes, well kinda-- Robin tried to kill me,”

“He what?!”

“As Marinette,” She adds, slowing down as they should have put enough distance between them.

“Did they figure us out already?” Chat Noir slows down into a walk then collapses on the rooftop,

"Probably,"

“This is the worst wake up call ever!”

“Well, it's about to get worse,” Ladybug cringes feeling the distinct trace of magic she was all too familiar with.

“Akuma?”

“Akuma,”

“Great, perfect,” Chat complains standing back up.

“At least we’re not at school,” Ladybug shrugs, launching herself over a roof.

“No you’re right being chased by a masked vigilante is a massive improvement,”

---

Wow

“Robin! Get your head out of the clouds and get over here!”

Damian breaks out of his trance, regrettably tearing his gaze away from Ladybug to the much less awe inspiring sight of Batman trapped under a car. They shouldn’t be wasting their time worrying about these established amazing hero’s and worry about that assassin on the loose. Who knows who she was after. She could be planning Batman’s demise at this very moment; if she was close with his mother then surely she knew their identities which was far far more dangerous.

Ladybug could handle herself as evidence by her going toe to toe with the newest villain. In a matter of minutes, the villain was down for the count with no help on their part.

“Ladybug!” He calls before she leaves again, maybe she could help him convince his father that he was being an absolute buffoon.

“Oh it’s you,” She says surprisingly coldly, “What do you want now?”

“Now?”

“Are, you here to attack me again?”

“... I didn’t attack you?” He had spent all morning tracking down a dangerous assassin.

“... Oh! Of course, you did- haha I just ummmm-- there must have been an… Akuma! Yes! There must have been an Akuma earlier that looked like you,”

“An Akuma was impersonating me?” Robin growls.

“Yeah, they do that sometimes,” Chat Noir pipes up, “It’s annoying,”

“Yes and if you’re here, that uh… that means the Akuma is still out there so we gotta go deal with that so-bye!” Ladybug swings off closely followed by Chat Nor; off to go save his name and reputation.

---

“So you really think that was an Akuma?” Adrien asks as they transform back.

“Maybe- I don’t know it was just an excuse so he wouldn't figure out my identity,”

“Well at least he doesn't know it,” Adrien shrugs as they walk through the alleys in search of a new place to rest that night.

“If he doesn't know then why would he attack Marinette?” She asks, “And if it was an Akuma that means Hawkmoth knows my identity which is so much worse!”

“Is it tho?”

“Chat,”

“I mean back in Paris it would have been bad,” They both cringe, “But here we have no home, no family, no friends! He cant use any of that against us now!”

Adrien beams his contagious smile.

“You always manage to find a bright side,” Marinette smirks punching him in the shoulder.

“So that's why,” They both turn around, staring in shock.

“Batman?!” Turning back their way out is already blocked by mister boy wonder. Who, by the way he is glaring at her, was not an Akuma this morning.

“I can't believe Talia called me because some teenagers were eloping,”

I know that name- WAIT!

“Eloping?!” Marinette chokes, “We are not eloping!”

“As in not at all,” Adrien blanches, “And I mean no offense Marinette you are literally the sweetest person but I can’t imagine anything more horrific!”

“Oh god, same!” At least now, “I mean once when we were younger…-- it was a silly crush!”

“Wait you had a crush on me?!”

“Yeah, well, you had a crush on me!”

“... oh god… I did, didn’t I?!”

While Adrien is dealing with that little revelation Marinette looks around for an escape. There isn’t much opportunity since both have their eyes on them, partly out of morbid curiosity at their little freakout. Well if you don't have a distraction homemade is fine.

“AKUMA!” They both look, predictably.

Marinette grabs Adrien and runs. She goes for the side Robins guarding, sweeping his legs sending him crashing to the ground.

“I’m not sorry!” Marinette calls as they sprint down the alley.

Marinette heads for the main street, enough of a crowd to camouflage. As they are walking through as casually as possible Marinette sweeps them both for bugs putting any she finds on random passerbys. They walk sometimes ducking into busy shops in hopes of losing their trail. They come across the mall which works perfectly for them. They stay until it starts to approach closing time, it’s easy enough to avoid security and so they get locked in for the night.

“So what do you want to do?!” They walk through the empty halls Adrien skipping along and looking at each display. Marinette stops outside an electronics store, the tv’s still on and displaying the news.

“Make a plan for a way to deal with that,” On-screen are the two of them, a video of Ladybug throwing a car at Batman, “This is taken completely out of context!”

“What’s the context?”

“Batman was being a little bitch!”

“I’m sure that will hold up in court,” Adrien laughs taking a seat in one of those massage chairs, “Besides what's the problem?”

“The problem?!” Marinette yells, “The problem is that now all of Gotham is going to hate us!”

“So? Do we really need them to like us?” Adrien gets up to stand by her, rubbing her shoulder.

“They did in Paris,”

“We’re not in Paris anymore,” Adrien says quietly, leading her towards the seats, “We have a chance to start new again, everyday something we haven't done before, a couple of pals living day to day on the edge, isn’t that exciting?”

“I just--” want to go home, “I’m tired,”

“Take a break,” Adrien sits her down in the massage chair with a kind smile, “I’ll keep watch,”

“.. ok,” Marinette curls up in the chair Tikki coming to lie beside her. With not much strength to fight it, Marinette falls asleep while she can.

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

Taglist? nope don’t have one, horrible at keeping track of them sorry~

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug fic #miraculous fanfic #miraculous marinette #Marinette #badass marinette #batfam #daminette #good adrien #slow burn

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tomtenadia · 4 years ago

Text

A Little Braver - ch. 5

So, here is ch. 5 for you all.

We finally get to meet the mysterious man that Aelin was kissing.

Also, the firehouse gets a great news

Enjoy it!

Ten days had passed. Aelin had been discharged from the hospital and allowed to move around in crutches providing she took it easy, a concept totally alien to her. She had gone back to the station as soon as she could do it.

The deadline for the performance review was fast approaching and she had spent the last few days at the station. They only got a week extension so she had offered to help but all she could do was sit and direct the show. Also, working kept her mind off… things… and as in things she meant a certain arsehole who had gone completely awol. She had texted him and never got a reply. Lately every time she tried to phone him she was told that the phone was not available. So she had stopped. He clearly was offended by what she had said. She just wished he had spoken to her, explained why her confession had terrified him so much. Just as she had finally found the resolve to try again after losing Sam, he had gone and ruined everything.

A glove hit her face “planet Earth calls Aelin.”

She refocused for a second and noticed Ansel’s red mane of hair in front of her.

“Dorian is looking for you. He is in your office and Aedion is there already.”

Aelin groaned “can they come to the couch? I am so comfy here.”

“Apparently not.”

“Fine.” She dropped the documents she was revising and grabbed her crutches and pulled herself up.

At snail pace she made her way to her office and once she got there she saw Aedion standing in front of her desk while Dorian had his feet up on it and was sitting relaxed on her comfortable chair.

“I don’t care if you are the chief. First, feet off my desk, second, arse off my chair.”

Dorian moved away and let her sit down and grabbed her crutches.

“So, what is so important that I had to leave my spot on the couch?”

Dorian passed her the documents he was holding, with a grin. He was positive this was going to cheer her up.

“No fucking way. You did it.”

He smiled at her smugly “Not entirely my merit.” He confessed “As you remember, the community protested in front of the government in the aftermath of the embankment accident. They did it just before the budget review was due. The government could not ignore them and what you all did that night. And I guess that the statement from your cheerleader had helped a lot as well.”

“Who?”

“Someone I am not allowed to mention in your presence.”

Aelin stare darkened all of a sudden.

“We are getting a second engine, but that engine needs staff.” She pointed out, her excitement taking a hit “I was just getting to that” added Dorian quite quickly, “Thomas has offered to give you a few men to help staff the second engine. It will have a mixed crew of newbies and experienced staff for a while. Aedion and I thought it was the best way to go.”

Aelin nodded “I want to help interview the candidates. Aedion is busy with drills. I, on the other hand, I have plenty of time.”

“As if I can sideline you. You are the captain after all.” Added Dorian knowing full well that if Aelin had her mind set on a task it was almost impossible to dissuade her.

“I want a bigger female presence. I can’t believe that from all the candidates that graduate from the academy there are no good female firefighters.”

“I can spread the news at the academy and see who applies and go from there.”

“Good.” Aelin relaxed on the chair.

“We have also have been invited to a party thrown by the mayor.”

“You are joking.” Aelin hated that kind of party. She had been to a few and it had been a nightmare.

“There is no escaping it. We have all the be present and dress mess is required.”

“My leg is in a protective support, if I wear dress mess I need to wear the skirt which means heels and can you see where I am going with this?” Aelin protested.

“I guess we can do an exception for you. Wear your regular blue trousers, make sure your boots are shining and wear your uniform shirt with the tie, not the t-shirt. And don’t forget the hat.”

“I can live with that.”

“When is the dreadful event?” Asked Aedion who hated those ceremonies just as much as Aelin.

“This Saturday.”

“We are on night shift, you genius.”

Dorian smiled dangerously “Not anymore. Second team is taking the night shift. Let me remind you that attendance is compulsory and pass the info to the team.”

“Yes, Chief.” And Aelin was very tempted to flip him off, but he was still her boss.

“Lys and Elide are to come as well. They are part of the team.”

“Oh so, no one is immune to this horrible shenanigans. Lovely.” Aelin sat back, still annoyed at the invitation.

“No darling, if I have to suffer, you will all go down with me.” And with that Dorian disappeared behind the door.

“Come on Aedion, let’s go and ruin the team’s day.”

Slowly the two made their way back in the common area where the squad was relaxing. Aedion had put them through a gruelling session of drills in the morning and now they needed time to unwind. No one had taken nicely the fact that the review has been postponed only by a week, but at least they hadn’t asked Aelin to attend as well with a destroyed knee. She would be there of course but on the sidelines.

“Ok, people,” Aelin shouted as she slowly made her way to her team “Brullo, switch off the tv for a minute.”

“That doesn’t sound promising,” complained Ren.

“Where are Lys and Elide?”

“In the ambulance doing inventory.” Replied Nox.

“Ok, can you please go and get them?” She asked him.

He nodded and ran away and got back a few moments later with the two ladies in tow.

“Ladies, sit.”

“Uh oh.” Said Lysandra, sitting on Aedion’s lap.

“Now that everyone is here, I have an announcement.” She smiled wickedly and the team shivered. That was her scary smile “Our esteemed mayor has decided to throw a party this Saturday. Bad news is… we are all invited so that he can show us how he appreciates what we do for the community.”

“Fuck no,” shouted Ansel, while finishing the bowl of cereals she was eating.

“We are on night shift.” Added Brullo.

“No we are not. Dorian gave the shift to second team. We are all free.”

A chorus of very rude words erupted from the team. Yeah, everyone hated those parties.

“Oh and by the way… it has to be dress mess.”

The protests grew louder. Aelin let them vent for a moment before putting an end to it.

“Guys!” She shouted, and the room went quiet “I know none of us like those parties, but my hands are tied. Dorian made it pretty clear that this is mandatory. So, protest how you want but there is no getting out of it.”

The team went back to their protest when Aelin raised her voice again “Did I say I was done?”

The group went silent again.

“The second piece of information is hopefully a bit more welcome.” And she really hoped so “we are getting our second engine.”

The cheers that erupted from the team were of pure joy.

“How did you do it?”

“You have to thank Dorian. He is the one who pulled the trick.” And Rowan apparently. No, she was not going there.

“He really is better than his old man. We have been pleading the old bastard for ages and nothing. A few months in charge and Dorian gives us the second engine. If it wasn’t that I am I straight I’d kiss the guy.” Said Ren happily and everyone laughed.

Good, Aelin thought, they needed the good spirits.

“How will we do for crew?” Asked Ansel.

“Thomas is willing to give us some of his experienced men from one of his engines and take a few newbies. We’ll man the engine with a hybrid crew. Half experienced and half newbies. I need everyone to help with training. Aedion and I will do the main stuff but you guys are involved in this as well. I am out of commission for a while so I can only do classroom training.”

“We’ll help you, cap.” Chimed Nox happily.

Aelin turned to Ansel “I have asked to have a few more ladies in the team.”

“Thanks for that. Far too much testosterone in here.”

Aelin sat back down on the sofa, her knee started to get sore again “We are going to have other women hopefully, just don’t break their hearts.” She told Ansel.

Two of the guys sprayed what they were drinking, Aelin laughed “Oh come on, don’t tell me you had no idea Ansel was swinging on both sides.” Joked Aelin smiling at the woman.

“Both…” asked Brullo still quite shocked.

Ansel drank her coffee very calmly “Men, women, on a few occasion both at the same time.”

Aelin laughed at the expression of the guys.

“Ansel, I think you broke our boys.”

Aelin mobile went off and for a moment she hoped. But that hope had been short lived.

“Give me two minutes,” she said at the person at the phone. She stood and very slowly she made her way back to her office.

Once she got off the phone she stayed in her office to work. Then the dispatch siren went off and she heard the team depart and staying behind broke her heart.

She worked a bit longer but her mind could never fully concentrate. So she decided to do something stupid while the team was out on a call. She booked a taxi and not long after she was in front of the station waiting for her ride.

The driver got her at the airbase pretty quickly. She took out her pass and she hoped it worked even without him about. The man at the main gate let her through after checking her badge. So apparently he had told people she was allowed on the premises. That was a start. Painfully she reached the second check point and a guard approached her. Ok, her luck had already ran out.

“Can I help you, miss?”

“Yes, I am here to see captain Whitethorn.”

The man looked at her with curiosity for a second.

Did she got to the right airbase? As far as she knew there was only one and the first guy let her in.

“I am sorry miss but the captain and his team left a week ago.”

“Left?” Her voice trembled.

“Yes ma’am. They have been recalled and deployed a week ago.”

“Oh.” Was all Aelin managed “Th— thank you.” She turned and made her way back to the exit. Her heart slowly breaking. She sat down on a cement wall and let the sobs come. She took the phone and dialled his number and it went to voicemail “You could have told me. Instead you left. You just left me. Do you really hate me that much?” She sobbed and brushed her hand against her eyes “I hate you and I wish I never met you. Don’t ever bother look for me when you come back… I don’t want to see your face anywhere near my station. I am done with you, captain.” She hung up the phone and lowered her head and kept crying. She was done with men. She was done with pain and a broken heart. It was not worth it.

Eventually she pulled herself upright again and started walking. She had no idea to where, which she then realised that with crutches was a really bad idea. She had to stop a few times, exhaustion taking root. But the pain in her leg was keeping away the pain in her soul. It was much later when she realised she ended up in the west of Orynth and decided to go to west station, perhaps she could bribe the guys to give her a lift back to her firehouse.

Once outside the station, Thomas was the first one who noticed her. He ran to her and Aelin collapsed in his arm.

“Aelin, what are you doing here?’

“I need to sit” was all she managed. He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the section with all the bunk beds. He placed the crutches on the floor and sat on the bed at her side.

“What happened?” He asked when he noticed her puffy eyes “Why are you over here? On your own?”

“I was at the airbase.”

Thomas looked at her in shock “are you telling me that you walked in your condition from the airbase to here?”

Aelin nodded. “Can you give me a lift back?”

“Of course,” he patted her leg “let me go and tell the guys.”

He came back not long after, and lifted her in his arms “Let’s go.”

Once in the car Aelin relaxed and leaned her head against the window.

“Excited about the big night with the Mayor?”

Aelin groaned and Thomas laughed.

“Exactly the reaction my whole team had as well.”

She sighed “Dorian said it’s mandatory and I think for the very first time I have been this close to hit him. But he still is my superior.”

Thomas chuckled “If there is someone who can hit the chief without repercussions is you.”

Aelin turned and looked at him with a questioning stare.

“I mean because you are close. It’s not news that the man is madly in love with you. He might let you off if you beat him. Actually he might even like it.”

This time it was Aelin’s turn to laugh “Dorian and I… nothing ever happened. We are just really good friends. Not even a kiss.”

“So now the news is that you have your eyes set on a certain airforce captain.”

Aelin tensed at those words “You all are a bunch of crazy gossiper, you know that?”

Thomas shrugged “What did he do?”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” Her tone hard and the man at her side realised it was time to shut up. They were at her station anyway.

Aelin noticed the engine was back and she knew she was in trouble. They clearly had noticed her absence. When she decided to look at her phone again she saw a lot of message and missed phone calls from Aedion. Damn, she was screwed.

“Here you are, my lady.”

Aelin leaned over and kissed him on the cheek “thank you so much for the ride.”

“Anytime.” He opened his mouth as if to speak, then stopped and tried again “if you need to talk, I am here. I know you have your friends, but if you prefer to talk with someone who is not around you all day, I am here.”

“You are wonderful.”

He helped her get out of the car, they said goodbye and he drove away again.

Aedion came marching on as soon as he noticed she was back “where the hell have you been? Why don’t you answer your bloody phone? We came back and you were not here, where you were supposed to be.” She felt bad for making them all worry but she did not feel like explaining herself so she just moved past him and in silence she dragged herself to her office and slammed the door shut.

She sat down at her desk and plopped her leg on the spare chair the guys had placed at her side so she could stretch her injured leg, hoping for the pain to subside. She took a few minutes for herself, then texted Lysandra telling her she needed her and Elide.

The two women arrived a few minutes later. They sat on the chair in front of her desk and Aelin knew that Lys was just as mad as Aedion had been.

“Where were you? We came back and you were gone.”

“I went to the airbase.” She confessed, looking outside the window, the sky looked heavy grey and she was positive snow was coming.

“As in the airbase. His airbase.”

Aelin nodded “I needed answers. I needed to know why he left that way. I had to ask him why all this hate.”

“And?”

Aelin felt tears sting her eyes again “he was gone.” She paused “the whole team has been recalled and left for a mission a week ago. No goodbyes. Nothing. He just took off.”

Lysandra stood and ran to hug her friend “what an arsehole.”

Aelin started sobbing again “all I could do was leave him an angry voicemail telling to get away from me forever.”

“I am seriously going to kick his arse.”

Aelin pulled back from the hug “Not worth it remember?”

“We all go to that stupid party and we’ll find you a man there. Perhaps a hot wealthy man.”

Aelin chuckled “You know what, screw it. I’ll remain single all my life and if I want a good time I might ask Ansel.”

The two women laughed “she might take you up on that, you know, right?” Added Lysandra.

“Can we just stop talking about it? Fine he is hot but is he not a nice man. I want to forget that I even contemplated the fact that I had feelings for the bastard.”

“Copy that. I will pass the message along.”

“Have you considered that he might not be able to reply to you because of where he is? Perhaps he is on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the sea.”

Lysandra and Aelin stared at Elide.

“What?” She said shrugging “Lorcan gave me his number, he told me to text him. But he added as well that in the case he was going to leave for a mission not to worry if he did not reply because sometimes their phones don’t work.”

“So you knew they were away?”

“No,” replied the woman lifting her hands “I haven’t heard from him in a while. He is not the greatest of texter and I haven’t spoken to him in a while. I had no idea he was away until now when you told us.”

“Basically airforce boys do not know how to communicate. Got it.” Sarcasm dripping from Aelin’s voice.

Aelin shifted uncomfortably in her chair and Lysandra noticed that.

“Are you okay.”

“Just my leg, bothering me like hell today.”

“Sure, if you only just didn’t walk from the airbase to west station…”

Dispatch alarm went off and the two ladies ran out as the ambulance was needed.

Aelin tried going back to work but her brain was not there.

Out of boredom and curiosity and probably a deep desire for punishment she looked up the captain online. The search engine brought up a page about him. He was only two years older than her. Native of Wendlyn but moved to Terrasen when he was quite young for his father’s job. According to the article he climbed the ranks quite quickly and was thought to be one of the most promising captain in the TAF in a very long time.

“Nerd.” She joked.

Then she scrolled down to personal life and she got even more curious but froze when she read the paragraph.

Fuck.

The man had been married. His pregnant wife had died in a car accident over a year and a half before. She opened the link to the newspaper article about the accident and noticed the picture of the accident site. Her eyes fell on one detail of the image and swore.

She stood and wobbling she went to the file cabinet where she kept the reports for the old cases. She found the one she needed and sat back down. Lyria Whitethorn, that was the name of the woman. She had a look through the case file. She did remember it. It had snowed heavily and the road and had been icy and pretty bad in some areas of town. That accident had been horrendous and it had involved quite a few cars. Lyria’s car had been stuck under a lorry. According to the police it seemed like it had lost control and smashed under the lorry that had crashed against the barriers at the side of the road. She died on impact. It had been an horrendous night. They spent hours working under the snow and only one person had come out alive from that disaster.

She leaned back and felt tears running down her face. They had one big thing in common. They both had lost someone they loved. And all of a sudden it hit her. His reaction. His fear. And for a moment contemplated that he was just as scared as her to get involved again. She closed the file and grabbed her head in her hands. How badly had she fucked up?

She took her phone and dialled his number. The number was not available and she left him a voicemail message again “Hey it’s me again. I know you are away and probably can’t get this message. If you listen to the old one as well, just ignore it. I was mad. I did not mean it. I… just… let’s just talk when you get back. Please. Be safe, okay?”

She leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes and cried for both of them, for what they had lost and for the fear of committing again.

Saturday eventually arrived and Aelin was at home getting ready for the party. Lysandra and Elide had joined her since Lys was going to drive them all.

Aelin had been in a bad mood since her discovery about Rowan but had not told anyone about it. To do so would mean reveal his secret and she could not to do that. It was far too personal.

“You’d think that being barely able to walk would excuse me from such horrible events.” She growled while tying her tie.

“You have been in a funk for a few days. Are you okay?” Lysandra had noticed her bad mood.

“Fine.” She snapped. “I am sorry…”

“Just don’t piss off any politicians, okay? We need them.”

Aelin sighed “I will behave.”

They arrived at the venue not long after and they noticed the already high number of cars present.

“Are we too late to bail?” Asked Elide who had been uncomfortable as well at the idea.

“Unless you want Dorian to rip you a new one, I would leave aside that plan for now.”

The three women made their way to the main entrance where someone checked their names against a list. Aelin for a moment hoped that someone had messed up and forgot to add them.

But that hope died quickly when the man greeted them a bit too happily.

“Ok, are we ready?” Said Aelin gathering the courage she needed to face such a horrible night.

They entered the venue and the notes of classical music hit them.

“At least they have great taste in music.” Commented Aelin staring at the great hall.

Dorian spotted them from the distance and walked to them with a brisk pace “Ladies, you made it. wonderful. Go, mingle, have fun. There’s plenty of food.” He grabbed Aelin’s hand “You come with me. The mayor wants to meet you.”

“What?” Blurted Aelin, sweating cold all of a sudden.

“The mayor would like to speak with you. He met Thomas already. Now it’s your turn.”

“I am not speaking to the mayor.”

“Aelin… this is an order from your superior.”

The woman growled back “Oh, so pulling rank, now?”

“Come,” he repeated.

Aelin turned to Lysandra and Elide “if I don’t come back soon, please come and get me. I love you both.”

Dorian rolled his eyes and he started walking and Aelin followed behind.

Eventually they arrived where the mayor was entertaining some guest and Aelin wanted to turn away, but Dorian sensed her intentions and placed a hand on her lower back in warning.

“Ah, Dorian, I see you have captain Galathynius with you. Wonderful.”

Aelin leaned on one crutch and extended her hand to the man “please to meet you sir.”

“The honour is mine captain. And thank you for coming even in your conditions.”

As if I had a choice and she looked at Dorian glaring at him.

“I just wanted to offer my thank you in person for what you do in the community and what you did the night of the embankment accident.”

“The community comes first.” She commented and Dorian gently nudged her sides at her comment.

“You are absolutely correct, captain. I am aware that you will be getting a second engine at east station, I hope this is a welcomed news.”

Aelin smiled “Very much sir. It has been a long time coming and we are very excited.”

“This is my email,” he gave her a business card “email me. Any idea, concerns or anything else related to your job. I will do my best to make it happen.”

Aelin took the card and was speechless.

“Now unfortunately being the host forces me to go around and be pleasant with all these strangers. I don’t think there is alcohol enough to survive such an evening.”

He gave her a huge grin, waved at Dorian and walked away.

“Are we sure that was the mayor?”

Dorian nodded dumbfounded.

“Do you think he was drunk?”

Dorian shrugged, just as confused as her “Just don’t loose that card.” The man then left her and she had a moment alone to look around and enjoy the music. She hadn’t been at a classical concert in a lifetime and missed it. Or at the opera. She wanted to go to the opera again.

She had her eyes closed when she perceived a figure at her side. She opened her eyes again and noticed it was Thomas, looking at her in a curious way “Hey you.”

She looked at him and froze. The man in front of her was gorgeous. She was used to see him in his everyday uniform or the fire gear, and his hair tied and under an helmet. She almost did not recognise him. He had his dress mess uniform on, and his hair was free and she discovered it reached his shoulders.

“I almost did not recognise you there.”

He grinned “I know, without soot and dirt on me it must be a challenge.”

She smiled back at him.

“How is your night going?” He asked, moving closer to her.

“Counting the minutes until Dorian tells me it’s okay to go home.”

She shuffled in her position and he placed a hand on her back “you should sit down.”

“Does this place have a balcony?”

Thomas grinned “Follow me, m’lady.”

“Did you meet the mayor?” She asked as they started walking.

“I did.”

“And?”

“He gave me his business card and told me to tell me if there was anything we needed.” He made his way through the crowd.

“Me too. I am going to email him and ask a bucket load of expensive equipment.”

“I have my wish-list ready.” Thomas commented smiling wickedly.

They arrived at the balcony and once there Aelin leaned heavily against the wall.

“Are you okay?” Suddenly Aelin noticed their proximity. Thomas was right in front of her.

“I am fine.”

“Want something to drink?”

“Please. Wine if they have it.”

He smiled and she noticed his dimples appear “I’ll be right back.” And she felt her face flush hot.

What was happening to her? Why all of a sudden she was attracted to him?

She saw Lys walking by and waved at her.

“What are doing here?”

“Hiding.” She said hurriedly “I have a problem.”

“What did you do?”

“I want to do something stupid.”

“As in?”

“Thomas.” She explained.

Lysandra looked at her friend with a puzzled face.

“As in he is the one one I want to … do”

“Holy fuck,” she exclaimed almost spilling all her wine on her uniform.

“How?”

Aelin looked up “I don’t know. He was here, he was nice, he smiled and I just… have you seen him tonight?”

“No I was with Aedion and the guys.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Don’t do… anything.” Then she moved away “he is coming back.”

Thomas came back with the drinks and placed them on the ledge beside them.

She had known and worked with the other captain for a very long time. They had gone through the academy together. And never, not once she had ever felt a smidge of attraction for him.

He leaned against the wall just beside her, shoulders brushing gently “is your team ready for the performance review?”

Aelin nodded “Yes, Aedion and I are going through as many different scenarios as possible. They are ready. But I hate that I will have to stare from the sidelines.” She told him “How did yours go?”

Thomas drank some wine “We had a few bad moments. My newbie fucked up a couple of things and threw the whole team off track for a moment but they did recover splendidly. Manon was the best in our individual challenge.”

“Ohh I like her. Can I please get her and Asterin for my new engine?”

“We’ll see.” The man gave her a wide smile that made his dimples come back.

She pinched his side and he grabbed her hands to block her. She stopped and stared at him for a moment and then they both moved at the same time. Their lips met and he pushed her against the wall and she left her crutches fall on the ground. His hand behind her back to hold her up. The kiss deepened and Aelin opened for him and a small moan escaped her.

“Oh shit.” Said a voice at her side and Aelin recognised Lysandra and Aedion at her side.

She and Thomas broke apart quickly. Thomas coughed embarrassed, looked at Aelin and excused himself.

“What the fuck was that?”

Aelin’s hand went to her mouth, her lips still swollen by the kiss.

Aedion kneeled to pick up her crutches and passed them to her.

In that instant the rest of the team arrived.

“Why is everyone out here? It’s cold.”

“Aedion and I just discovered Aelin making out with Thomas.”

“Do you mean captain Hamilton?” Asked Brullo.

“I thought you liked the silver haired fox.” Added Ansel.

“Are you and Thomas a thing now?” This time it was Ren.

“I don’t know okay?” Aelin shouted, frustration rising “It happened.”

“You… happened to trip on his lips?” Nox gave her a smug smile and Aelin would have stormed out if she hadn’t been on crutches.

Aelin placed the glass back on the ledge and started to walk away. Lysandra caught up with her “I am sorry. It just came out.”

“Lys, I don’t care.”

The woman grabbed her arm “Aelin, please…”

“What? I don’t know what I was doing okay? We kissed. And I don’t understand my feelings anymore.” She leaned against the wall, her knee throbbing with pain “I haven’t known my feelings since Sam died.” She sniffled “I work. I throw myself into work because that it’s when I do not think that he is gone from my life.” She closed her eyes and tried to put all her pain back “it just felt nice for a moment to have that again. And I know I am sounding like a pathetic mess… I don’t know why I did it.” Aelin sobbed “I am so tired of hurting.” A tear appeared at the corner of her eyes “you have Aedion. I don’t have anyone.”

Lysandra hugged her friend “I am so sorry.”

Aelin leaned into her friend “we are fine.” She pulled back “but I am going home. I am in a ton of pain and I really want to lie down.”

“I’ll tell Dorian if he starts looking for you.”

“We are off tomorrow. Fancy a girls day? We can invite Elide and Ansel.”

“Yeah. Yeah, please.”

“Good,” Lys patted her shoulder “now go home and relax.”

She was outside ready to call a taxi when she heard a voice calling her. She turned and saw Thomas running to her.

“Aelin,” he stopped in front of her “I am sorry. I have no idea what got into me. I was there and all of a sudden I wanted to kiss you.”

She turned to him and moved closer enough to kiss him. His hand slipped to her waist and pulled her closer. She melted in his arms and felt his hand caressing her back.

“I was going home.” She said against his lips.

“I can’t let you piss off Havilliard on your own.”

She kissed him again and then detached so he could call a taxi.

Their ride home arrived not long after and the journey to Aelin’s flat was not too long.

They made it to her flat and he lifted her in his arms and walked to the bedroom. He dropped her on the bed and leaned on top of her and kissed her deeply, his hands trailing on the sides of her body and Aelin leaned into the touch. Her hand trailed up to his face and then fisted into his golden hair and pulled him down for another kiss. Maybe it was a mistake but she could not care.

Slowly he started to unbutton her shirt and Aelin did the same for him and not long after they were both naked and Aelin stared at his body and realised the man was so incredibly well built.

“You will have to lead the dances, captain.” He lowered himself again over her and kissed her in a way that made her forget all the pain and hurt.

It was later, after their adventure in bed.

Aelin smiled at him satisfied. The man had skills and for a while he made her forget the real reason why that night she had searched for comfort in him.

They were now sitting in bed, their back against the headboard and the blanket covering them up.

“Did we just mess up our friendship?” He asked turning to her “I am not complaining I just…”

She sighed at his side “I think we did it for the wrong reasons.”

He agreed “Epically awesome rebound sex?”

Aelin nodded and Thomas turned to her “you are stunning though, and if the captain can’t see it, well, it’s his loss.”

“You are a sweet man” and she caressed his face “and your ex is a bitch.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him down, “fancy watching stupid movies? We can also order in. There’s a place round the corner that stays open till late. I had no food at that stupid party.”

“I’ll get the beers.” He said getting off the bed and putting his briefs back on.

Aelin grabbed a discarded t-shirt “I’ll order the food.”

He came back with the beers and offered one to her “to our own party.”

They clinked the bottles and went to camp on the sofa.

TAGs:

@rowaelinismyotp

@swankii-art-teacher

@courtofjurdan

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #rowan x aelin #aedion x lysandra #fanfic #Throne of Glass series

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nikibogwater · 3 years ago

Note

What did you think of Nari's characterization in ROTT?

Disliked it, as with most of the other things in the movie.

The short version of it is this: In Wizards, Nari's primary character traits were empathy and compassion for others. In Rise of the Titans, her primary character traits seem to be just a general lack of awareness for what's happening around her, and a tendency to make light of very serious situations.

Now before I get into the long-form answer, I will preface by saying that the writers of RotT were at a severe disadvantage when writing for characters who were introduced in Wizards because Wizards was still in production at the time. So I understand why Nari ended up feeling like a completely different character in the movie, and I am not shaming anyone for it. But the fact of the matter is that I found her characterization in Wizards to be much more appealing, and if that characterization had carried over to Rise of the Titans, I think I would've had slightly warmer feelings towards the movie. But let's get down to brass tacks now, because I've actually been dying to talk about this. This is gonna be a loooooong boi, so I've put everything under the cut to avoid clogging people's queues (I'm just really passionate about this bean goddess, okay? 😅)

When Nari is introduced to us in Wizards, she is quietly watching the arrival of our heroes at the castle. She doesn't make herself known to them, but it is clear she is very interested in what's happening. She does not make any other appearance until the Arcane Order launches their assault on Camelot.

Nari's first spoken words are, "Merlin! This is all my fault!" and as one would expect after hearing this, she is very obviously distressed and feeling guilty for putting everyone in danger. Merlin tells her they need to escape to the past, and that he needs her help in order to do it. Nari's response is to begin charging her magic as she says "I will do what I can."

After our main characters are thrown back in time, we're introduced to Nari as she was in the past. Although she is allied with the Arcane Order in their war against humanity, it's clear that she displays the least amount of malice out of the three. In fact, it's revealed that Nari has always been rather fond of humans, and has even reached out to them in friendship a number of times. After resurrecting Morgana, Nari is the one who does most of the explaining and introductions, showing a bit of a playful/mischievous side as she pokes fun at Bellroc and Skrael. ("I told you she would, Skrael! So old, and they still haven't learned manners.")

During the Battle of Killahead, we see Nari watching the war from a distance, and it's clear from the expression on her face that she is not liking any of this. Though she does briefly aid her siblings when they join in the battle, she reveals afterwards that she can sense the pain and suffering they have inflicted on others--and she doesn't believe the Order's ambitions are worth that. She abandons the Order, presumably spending the next 900 years in hiding, before seeking Merlin's protection.

Once our heroes have returned to the present, Nari becomes a bit more involved in the plot. She expresses genuine sorrow over the destruction of Arcadia Oaks High ("Your beautiful school-home was crushed!") and is clearly distressed by Jim's agony as the shard in his chest begins to work its dark magic. ("Poor soul! Your corruption...I feel it worsening.") After Jim is taken by the Order, we can see her comforting Toby in the background. She continues to show great concern and empathy for the people around her, and is still eager to help wherever she can, though her magic doesn't seem to be combat-oriented. She is also shown to be somewhat timid, hiding behind Merlin or Claire during confrontations with the Order--she is very clearly terrified of her old allies, and seems to want to avoid direct contact with them. When Douxie is struck down by the Order and is falling to his death, it is Nari who runs to try to save him before anyone else--apparently, if someone is in need, Nari's first instinct is to rush to their aid.

So, from all of that, we can gather that Nari, as she was characterized in Wizards, is intelligent, curious, cautious, gentle, empathetic, and very aware of what's going on around her. She is also a little playful and wild, but never to the point of disregarding what's happening or how others are feeling.

In Rise of the Titans, Nari remains consistent with this characterization for all of...seven minutes.

Initially, Nari is still very much herself in this scene (though I wish we could've been told what exactly made her want to stop running and face the Order head-on. Again, in Wizards, it was abundantly clear that that was the one thing she did NOT want to do). When Douxie expresses his anxiety about the situation, she takes him by the hand, offers him a reassuring smile, and says, gently but firmly, "No. No more running, Douxie." Excellent interaction. 10/10. Five stars. That's also the only time in the movie where Nari displays any level of awareness regarding Douxie's (or anyone's) feelings/wellbeing.

The body-swap scene is when Nari's character just completely swings in the opposite direction, and she becomes near-unrecognizable as being the same character from Wizards. Douxie, being our favorite Self-Sacrificing Idiot, swaps bodies with her at the last possible second, causing the Order to take him instead. Nari, now stuck inside Douxie's body, seemingly doesn't think much of this development at all. In fact, her first response is to giggle playfully. UM, NARI. NARI, SWEETIE, YOUR BIG BROTHER IS IN THE CLUTCHES THE MOST EVIL BEINGS KNOWN TO MANKIND. LIKE, THEY LITERALLY KILLED HIM THE LAST TIME HE RESCUED YOU FROM THEM, WHY ARE YOU NOT MORE WORRIED ABOUT THIS?! Up until this point, Nari has never been shown to underestimate the Arcane Order--she seems all too aware of the kind of violence and destruction they are capable of, which explains why she was so terrified of them in Wizards. But in Rise of the Titans she seems to just....not really care anymore? The entire time she is in Douxie's body, she doesn't express the slightest amount of concern for him, or for anyone around her. She just keeps doing...cutesy forest gremlin things, like singing to her flower, batting at a light fixture, and antagonizing Archie (she's definitely not the only character who was severely lacking in empathy in this movie, but this is an essay about Nari, so I'm not going to bother touching on everyone else). This is a direct contradiction to her characterization in Wizards, where she was shown to care deeply for the people around her, and displayed genuine distress whenever they were in danger or suffering.

Nari also persists in being pointlessly cryptic for the entirety of the movie because....reasons. Before the Order breaks Douxie's body-swap spell, she tells Jim, "Trollhunter make ninth configuration--the Kronosphere will make right." Which, of course, doesn't help him in the slightest. And when they finally succeed in rescuing Nari, she doesn't elaborate or explain this at all. She just says it again. Listen, I can get behind Nari being Insanely Ancient, and maybe a little out of touch with modern trends, but I'm fairly certain that Wizards Nari at least knew how to communicate. She never showed any inclination towards being cryptic or mysterious on purpose, at least. We're never given any explanation for Nari's sudden lack of clarity, so I guess it was just there for plot reasons. Which makes it that much more infuriating.

Also I don't know why, but the little "Hehe!" Nari does when Douxie pulls her into a hug kind of grinds my gears, because Nari, love, this is a really serious moment, you were just snapped out of mind control and your siblings are currently rampaging across globe in giant magical mechs, why are you giggling like a four-year-old and not, idk, SOBBING IN A MIXTURE OF RELIEF AND HORROR BECAUSE YOU WERE ALMOST PART OF WHAT DESTROYS THE EARTH?! AS THAT WOULD BE A MORE APPROPRIATE RESPONSE TO WHAT JUST HAPPENED????!!!!! But that's just a stupid little nitpick.

Now this is not me saying that Nari's characterization in the movie is objectively bad. Actually, it's kind of fitting for the Tales of Arcadia brand of humor--Super ancient demigoddess who houses the power to completely destroy the earth is also kind of a clueless ditz and needs to be babysat like a toddler. If she had not been introduced in Wizards, I would've been fine with this. But, much like the rest of the movie, Nari's vastly different characterization felt a tiny bit like a betrayal, and it consistently bothered me in every single one of her scenes. It also kept me from feeling the full impact of her death--seriously, I didn't cry at all when she was killed. Which....yeah, I'm just as surprised as you are.

So anyways, if you've made it this far, thank you so much for the ask, Non! Normally I have a bit more self control than to just....essay-dump like this, but honestly I've been thinking about this for way too long, and I had to get it out of my system. 🥴 And to anyone who really liked Nari's characterization in RotT--that's totally valid! Again, I don't think it was a bad characterization. It was just very inconsistent with her character as she was introduced to us in Wizards. And I just happen to prefer Wizards Nari over RotT Nari. 🌿✨

#tales of arcadia #toa #rise of the titans #rott spoilers #toa nari #niki answers #long post

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abluescarfonwaston · 3 years ago

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Gregory Week - Flowers

Day 2 of Gregory Edgeworth Week (note: contains delayed speech Miles and Gregory excited when he does start talking. He’d had taken steps to learn how to communicate even if Miles didn’t talk because he loves his son but please take care of yourselves.)

“So when do I get to meet the most important person in you life Gregory?”

She smiled at him and his chest ached. He wanted to run his fingers down the length of her braid. Kiss every blossom weaved in. She was beautiful and kind and perfect.

“Soon Flora. Soon.”

He sat on the floor next to Miles as he sorted through his building blocks. Arranged them by color and size. “There is someone I would like you to meet. If you would be partial to that.”

Miles considered one of the strange pieces. Debated where to put it. Set it down carefully so all the lines were straight. Nodded.

“Thank you.” He outlined when she would come over and for how long. Miles always appreciated that. Knowing exactly what he was up against. It made grocery store runs less daunting for them both.

Hopefully this would be less upsetting than the grocery store.

She brought a large bouquet of flowers with her.

“Don’t worry, we were going to throw them out anyway. Oh! But- But I’m not trying to give you subpar flowers it’s only that-”

He took them. Cradled them in his arms. Breathed in their sweet scent. “I love them.” He wasn’t sure anyone had ever given him flowers before. Not before her. Kept them on the desk at work until she threw them out and replaced them with new ones.

It was the little things like that. Like how she packed an extra orange for him because those convenience store meals don’t have any fruit in them Gregory! You have to take better care of yourself! You’ll get scurvy! Or how she reminded him to sort through the mail collecting on his desk. Or just pulled him up out of his chair to stretch.

Or how she laughed so bright and warm and it filled his chest. Just like it did when Miles giggled.

He wanted to be good for them. Be better. Be put together and organized and not be constantly two weeks behind on laundry and debating which of Miles shirts had the least amount of stains so people wouldn’t think he was failing as a parent.

“Well I like doing laundry Gregory. And we all need a little help sometimes.”

Oh he could love her. Marry her. One day.

“This is Flora, Miles. She’s one of my friends.”

Miles hid his face in his pant leg. Waved with one hand and clung with the other.

Her lips pressed together into a frown. Cast a worried gaze up to him.

“When you said he wasn’t talking yet, I thought he was younger.”

Add this to the list of ways he’s already failed Miles as a father. That he didn’t know they were missing milestones.

She sits next to Miles as he flips through the pages of his favorite book. Evidence law. There’s a little chick on the front with a deerstalker. He’s had to move his current law books up out of the reach of sticky fingers because Miles loved to take them out and stare at them. Mirror him as he read his own tomes. Although these couldn’t be interesting, they were just text.

Miles wiped his nose against his sleeve again. A button up with a bowtie. If he dressed Miles up fancy enough maybe no one wouldn’t notice how his shirts hadn’t been ironed in months. She leaned closer and pointed to one of the pictures. Braid with all those beautiful flowers falling over her shoulder. Asked him a question about it.

Miles sneezed. A tiny kitten of a sneeze. Neither could stop the instant coo. His sneezes were just so cute. Miles tugs on his sleeve and then covered his nose with both hands. Tissue please. He understands. Retrieves one and hands it to him. Blows his nose with a honk.

(I hope he isn’t catching a cold.)

Dinner is Miles favorite. Which isn’t the most impressive of meals but in the debate between impressing Flora and making sure Miles was as happy and content as possible for the duration of the meeting, keeping Miles happy had won. Besides, he barely had time to clean the spaces she’d see before she’d come over, much less make something fancy.

He reaches out and strokes the soft petal of the flowers on the table. They really made this place seem nice. Adult. Not like the bachelor pad turned baby playground it was. They could go to the farmers market together, swing Miles between them, and buy fresh fruit that wouldn’t rot in the bottom drawer half the time. Purchase nice art to hang on the walls. Always have fresh flowers for the vase. Have enough time to actually clean the dust he’d only noticed built up on the shelves once she’d stepped in the door.

(You’re getting ahead of yourself Gregory. Taking things too fast.)

“Miles dear? Is something wrong?” Flora asked.

He was wiping at his cheeks. Tears flowing. Snot running down his face. Discomfort and distress in every line. Breaths ragged like the start of a meltdown.

“Miles?!”

He scooted off his chair. Ran to his room. The door slammed closed behind him.

They stared at each other. Those beautiful flowers framing the shot.

Wilted alongside them.

“I should go check on Miles.”

He could never tell what the problem was with Flora. Miles seemed to like her right up until he started crying out of the clear blue. Began to sulk whenever they’d go to see her.

“I’m sorry Flora. Perhaps when he’s older...”

He knows she won’t wait that long.

She shouldn’t have to.

She leaves him with a dried flower and a book on sign language.

“So we can communicate even if you don’t talk.” He says and signs achingly slow. Has rehearsed these motions countless times in preparation. He wants to hear his son’s voice more than anything. But even more than that he wants him to be happy and understood. “I love you Miles.”

Miles plays with his trench coat. Fiddles with his attorney’s badge. He’s always worried Miles will pop it off and hurt himself. So far he’s been content to just shine and admire it. Cocks his head the way he does when he doesn’t understand a direction. Say that again?

He does. Begins to repeat the explanation on sign language. Miles shakes his head. Waves his hand. “Just the last part?” Nods. He hesitates. “I love you Miles.” He says and signs.

Miles watches his hand. Looks down at his own. Adjusts his right hand into position with his left.

I love you. He signs back.

His glasses immediately begin to fog. Tears blinding his eyes. “Can I…” Oh he doesn’t remember that word. He’ll just have to make one up for now. “Hug you?” Held his arms out wide. Shrugged his shoulders. Cocked his head.

Miles nodded and climbed into his arms. Pressed his ears against his chest. As if listening to his heartbeat.

I love you. I love you. I love you. He hoped Miles heard with every single beat.

I love you.

Miles played quietly under the bench as he argued his case. He didn’t like bringing Miles to court – one very prominent memory from when Miles was even smaller that ended in him covered in sick, making closing arguments through tears, and lightheaded with hunger came to mind. He really should have just switched to formula sooner. He hadn’t been able to keep up with the calorie demand. – But the Judge was always incredibly lenient about such things. Had taken a crying Miles off his hands to rock him to calm more than once. Refused to give him back until the trial was over, cooing his questions to Miles the entire time.

Wait. Did he just say-

“Hold it!” He began to say. Your statement contains a contradiction.

“HOLD IT!”A voice he did not recognize called out. High and loud. Young. He glanced around for it’s source. “Or Statement contains a,” Hesitation. He peered over the bench to the voices origin. To where the prosecutors, judge and courtroom were all staring. “Con-Tra-Dic-Tion!” Every single syllable was over and carefully enunciated.

Miles little grey head stood on the other side of the bench. Finger pointed.

The court erupted into noise.

Did he just- Oh that’s so cute! – why’s there a toddler – did you hear him?!

He rounded the bench and scooped him up. “What did you say?!”

Miles jumped. Looked away. Startled. Head bowed like he’d done something wrong.

“No- no no no. Miles what did you say? Can you say it again? Any of it. Say anything again.” Nuzzled into his hair. “I love you so much please say something.” I want to hear your voice so bad.

(Am I pushing too hard? Am I scaring him? Too much. You’re making this too big a deal. You said it was okay if he never spoke.)

It would have been. He loved his little boy. No matter what.

But he couldn’t help but want to hear that voice.

Miles buried his face in his shoulder as he squeezed him to his chest.

“… Father…” Came the embarrassed little squeak.

Oh I love you I love you I love you.

The prosecutor cleared his throat. “Gentleman… I believe we were in the middle of a cross examination?”

He rounded on the witness. Pointed with his free hand. “Yes! We were! And as my favorite legal assistant has just pointed out,” Miles giggled. Oh he loved that sound. “Your testimony directly contradicts the evidence.”

“Thank you.” The defendant’s eyes glittered with unshed tears. “You truly saved me.”

Miles studied him from behind his legs. Eyes catching on the brilliant fabric of the magicians cape. He pressed his hat to his chest. “I was just doing my job.” Bowed.

“Yes!” Magi laughed. The light caught on the glitter on his cheeks. “Take a bow!" Ah. That was… “You’ve put on a magnificent show.” Removed from his sleeve an entire bouquet of flowers. Handed it to him. “Truly. Thank you.”

He accepted it. They were beautiful.

He knelt. “And for the legal assistant and his indispensable aid,” Pulled one more beautiful flower out and presented it to him. “Here.”

Miles reached out. Took it. Inhaled.

Sneezed.

Sneezed again.

Magi covered his laugh as Miles sneezed once more. “Oh dear.” Pulled out a colorful handkerchief for him. “My apologies.” Took the flower back and made it disappear as Miles blew his nose. “I didn’t realize you were allergic.”

Allergic.

He dropped to the floor. Pulled Miles to his chest.

“Oh Miles. That’s why you didn’t like Flora. She always had flowers on her.”

And he was just allergic enough to be irritated.

What a fool he was.

“… Father.” Miles was tapping him. He forced open his eyes to Miles signing at him. “Why are you laughing?”

He received an invite to Flora’s wedding not a month before. They seemed very happy together.

That could have been us. If only I’d know about your allergies.

Father? He repeated.

“Because I’ve been very silly. And caused you unnecessary pain.”

(I’m not a very good Father at all am I? I keep messing up.)

“… Oh. You want another handkerchief?” Magi asked. “Here you go.”

Cloth touched his face. He opened his eyes to Miles very seriously wiping the tears from his face. Just like he would for Miles. He let him finish his very serious work.

Miles dropped his hands. Considered him from where he stood in the nest of his knees.

Raised his right hand and signed, “I love you.”

Oh Miles.

“I love you too.”

#gregory edgeworth #gregory edgeworth week #flower prompt #miles edgeworth #miles canon pollen allergy

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f0rever15elf · 4 years ago

Text

Gold Rush

Pairing: Modern!Ezra x f!reader Word count: 6,391 Rating: T+ Warnings: Slight swearing, short description of a brutal injury, mention of medical opiate administration via injection

Find the continuation of the story with Colorado Rocky Mountain High

Summary: It’s been a long time since the precious mineral rush hit the Rockies of Colorado. So when national news breaks of a potential gold vein left untouched in your quiet little town, no one is prepared for the rush that follows. And you certainly weren’t prepared for the man you meet.

A/N: So, I adore Ezra’s vocabulary and accent. I felt like a modern twist on it could be interesting. Someone really needs to control me when I start writing these oneshots xD

Masterlist | Ao3

You would never forget the day you first laid eyes on him. He looked a mess, dirt and soot clinging to his sweaty face. Mud clung to his coveralls, and his hair stood up in all directions having just taken his safety helmet off, a little blonde patch catching your eye. He looked positively exhausted as he lounged on a boulder set off a little bit from the rest of the commotion. The grueling heat from the mid-day summer sun did little to help the heat you felt rush to your cheeks when his warm brown eyes locked on yours. You averted your gaze quickly, scurrying off to finish your work in preparing the food for the new prospectors.

Your little mountain town tucked up in a secluded region of the Colorado Rockies had always been exceptionally quiet. That is, until a kid happened to stumble upon the start of what looked to be a gold deposit. It wasn’t unheard of, the mountains were rich with all kinds of valuable minerals. Hell, some of the towns got their names from the gold and silver deposits that brought them to life. Finding something here though, in your quiet and reclusive neck of the woods, was something your town was drastically unprepared for.

News broke nationally and within a week the town was flooded with prospectors and independent contractors all vying for their piece of the pie. The economic boost for the town was good, but the available resources were minimal, and the town felt the burden. There wasn’t enough room in the one bed and breakfast the town had to house them all, making little tent camps near the edge of town a very common sight.

Naturally, the close knit community rose to the occasion, coming together to make community meals for the visitors. Communal lunches were the most anticipated time for the workers, and they would flock to the picnic tables to fill their bellies as soon as the lunch bell rang. Most were nice and talkative, thanking the town for doing this for them, and promising to go visit the shops when they finished for the day. Some kept to themselves, staying quiet. Others would talk your ear off, but you had to approach them first. It was a strange new normal, but one that was easy to fall into routine with.

It’s been a little over a month now, and prospecting is in full swing. The little bit of gold the boy had found was just the beginning of one of the richest gold deposits this region of the Rockies had ever seen. More and more miners made their way to your town every day, and your new full time job became helping with the meals; making food runs down into the nearest large supermarket or tending to the vats of food that seemed to always be simmering away. But even when you were distracted with all of this hubbub, it seemed impossible to forget the man with the small blonde patch.

Today is a grey day. The clouds thick in the sky promise heavy rains. Yet still the lunch bell rings, calling the prospectors from their mine shafts and tents to come and join the community for food. The man with the blonde patch sits closer today, his usual boulder taken over by two of the newer prospectors whose names you had yet to learn. As you work, you feel his eyes following you, watching you like a hawk as you do your best to ignore it. Quite a few of the prospectors spent time ogling you, but this man’s gaze consistently feels different. Arms full of things to take back to your house to clean, you begin making the trek up the incline that leads to your house when lightning cracks the sky. The resounding rumble of thunder through the canyon scares you out of your wits, and the dishes go crashing to the ground as you lose your footing, stumbling backwards. You close your eyes, preparing yourself to hit the ground, knowing you’d be tumbling for a bit before you could regain yourself, but the ground never meets you.

“Careful there, sunshine.” The voice is honey thick, a deep Tennessee drawl that borders on music as it drips from the lips of the man who catches you. Opening one eye, you look up to see the man with the blonde patch holding on to you, having been the one to keep your from falling down the hill. You open your other eye as well, looking up at him for far longer than you are sure was proper before your cheeks grow hot and you scramble to get your footing again.

“I’m so sorry! The thunder frightened me, I didn’t mean to..I just...I – Thank you.” You blabber as you crouch down to start gathering the dropped and scattered dishes, cramming everything back in the chili pot.

“Not a worry, sunshine. Would have been a mighty rough fall there.” He crouches down to help you gather the dishes, only pausing to look to the sky when the first few drops land on his face. You look up with him and sigh.

“It’s going to be a hell of a storm.” His beautiful eyes turn back to you at your comment, an eyebrow raised. “The season is changing,” you grunt, getting to your feet. “Best to make sure your tent is secure, sir. Else this rain and the wind that will come with it will blow it half way down the canyon.”

“I appreciate the advice, but I do not believe that to be something I need concern myself with presently.” The way he spoke, words pouring from his mouth with such sweetness, was unlike anything you had ever heard. “I haven’t a tent to my name, you see. Just the clothes on my back and tools on my hip.”

“You didn’t bring a…?” Your voice tapers off in concern and confusion as the drops fall more rapidly, the rest of the prospectors dispersing to tend to their own things. “Come inside with me. You stay out in a storm like this you’ll get sick. Come on.” Turning, you begin your trudge uphill again, eyes on the sky as you wait for it to bottom out. The strange prospector follows you in silence, his tools clanking on his belt with every step.

And then it happens.

The sky opens up, the deluge drenching you both and you let out a small scream, sprinting down the street to the safety of your porch, the man hot on your heels. “C-Colorado rain is always so damn cold,” you chatter through clenched teeth, opening your front door and kicking off your soaked shoes. You’re half way to the kitchen when you realize the man hadn’t come in after you. Looking back over your shoulder, you see him standing just outside the doorway, the spitting image of a drenched kitten, conflict clear on his face. “Don’t just stand there, come inside where it’s warm.”

“It would be rather impudent of me to make a mess of your home in such a way.” You wave your hand at his comment, setting the dishes on the counter before returning to him.

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t alright with it. Come on, you’re letting the cold in.” When he still doesn’t move, you roll your eyes and grab his hand, tugging him inside before shutting the door behind you. “You can use my shower to get cleaned up. Go on.” You all but push him down the hall, him protesting in far more words than necessary as you do. “There’s towels in the wicker basket. Use whatever you need.” You turn to leave, stopped only by his hand catching your wrist in his gentle grip.

“Thank you, sunshine.” You look up at him, struck by the sincerity on his face, in his eyes. “I am beholden to your unbridled grace and kindness.” You flash him a shy smile and nod as he drops his hand from your wrist.

“I’ll get you something dry to change in to once you’re done getting cleaned up.” Your voice is soft as you turn, letting him to his business as you go to find him some clothes. It is at this time that you’re beyond grateful that your brothers were so damn forgetful, having left several articles of clothing at your place every time they visit. Humming a low tune, you rummage through their chest of forgotten clothes, pulling out a v-neck you’re pretty sure will fit him along with a pair of gray sweatpants that might be just a touch too short. They were better than nothing, at least. You quickly fold the clothes, setting them in the hallway outside the bathroom door before knocking.

“Sir, there are warm and dry clothes for you in the hall way. I’ll wash your wet ones when you’re out.” Over the sound of the running water, you catch a muffled, loquacious reply. You have only been speaking to him for a few minutes, but he’s already proven to have a more robust vocabulary than most anyone you’d met. Chuckling, you make your way back to the kitchen to get the dishes cleaned up, resuming your humming.

A bit later, you’re interrupted by the sound of a throat clearing. You look over your shoulder to see the prospector there, leaning against the doorway into the kitchen. Relief washes over you when you see the clothes did fit, making a mental note to not tell your brothers that you were giving away their clothes. “Enjoy your shower?”

“The breadth of generosity you’ve show this old man of ill repute is without measure,” sugar sweet words drip from his lips again, bringing a heat to your cheeks.

“Oh please, it’s nothing, really.” You gesture outside to the torrential downpour. “If you have no shelter in this type of weather, it has the potential to bring a rapid end to your prospecting career. The nights are too cold up this high to go to sleep drenched to the bone.” Your eyes rake over his figure, settling on his hair again, sticking out in all sorts of directions after having towel dried it. A smile pulls at your lips before you look back at his face.

“Well, all the same sunshine, I seem to find myself indebted to your good graces.” The corner of his mouth tugs up in a lopsided smirk that makes your heart stutter.

“Well if that’s the case, help me dry the dishes and I’ll call us square.” You grin and toss a towel to him as he joins you at your side. “By the way, I don’t think I ever got your name.”

“How discourteous of me! I go by Ezra. Just Ezra. Pray tell what name such an absolute vision of beauty such as yourself goes by?” You can’t help the giggle that bubbles from your lips as a heat rushes to your cheeks. You give him your name, a nervous air in your voice. He nods, repeating your name back to you and you can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine as your name sounds like liquid gold on his lips. You wouldn’t mind hearing him say it again and again, you think.

“I like that name. Ezra. I think it suits you.” You flash a smile as you hand him a pot to dry. “Tell me though. How have you been here since the rush began, yet still you don’t have so much as a tent to cover your head?” His laugh is deep and rich as he takes the next dish, drying it thoroughly.

“I find it more prudent to be frugal with one’s earnings in such a tumultuous line of business as freelance prospecting. Nature tends to provide what my mortal body needs as far as shelter, so the earnings I amass in mining go towards improving my station.” You nod, turning off the water as you hand him the last plate.

“And you’ve been living this way for how long?”

“By my approximation, I’d say I’m just about at the ten year mark.”

“I can’t imagine the lifestyle is easy…”

“There is an ache that lingers in my bones, no doubt, but the drive to press ever on towards greatness...well, that is what distinguishes those who simply chase a dream of getting rich quick from those of us who yearn for something beyond that which words can describe.” He turns, leaning against the counter to cross his arms, eyes staring off into space. You’re quiet for a moment as you watch him, taking note of the creases on his weathered face. Laugh lines linger along the corners of his lips, and smile lines accent the corners of his eyes. He is beautiful in every sense of the word.

“And when you reach the end of the vein here? Where will you go to next?” His eyes refocus on you and he smiles, pondering the question for a moment.

“I suppose that entirely depends up the riches chanced upon during my toils in your hospitable hamlet.” The way he says riches as his eyes watch you strikes a chord within you, and you have a feeling that it isn’t just the gold he is speaking of. Something about this man bewitched you, and you find yourself struggling to break eye contact with him. His smile is warm and welcoming, but there is something there just below the surface that hints of danger. And it thrills you. Another crack of lightning and rumble of thunder startles you from your trance and you push away from the counter with a nervous chuckle.

“Well, I do hope you’re able to find what you’re looking for here, Mr. Ezra. Please make yourself at home, I’m going to go set your clothes into the wash for you.” You turn and all but sprint down the hallway to the bathroom, Ezra chuckling in the kitchen behind you.

As you start his laundry, you take a moment to compose yourself. Your heart is racing and your hands trembled in a nervous excitement as they braced against the washer. The air around Ezra is different, you think. Something about the man sets him apart from those you had had the chance to speak to so far, and you are determined to figure it out. After calming yourself to a reasonable level once again, you make your way out to join Ezra in the living room. He’s found your meager book collection, helping himself to one of your novels, and the sight of him perched on your sofa with it balanced on his knee looks like the most natural thing in the world.

“Avid reader?” you question, sitting down on the other side of the couch, tucking your feet up underneath you.

“I have been known to indulge when such an opportunity affords itself to me.” He flashes you that lopsided smile that you just can’t help but return before re-affixing his eyes to the text in front of him. You watch him for a time, trying to learn as much about him as you can from his posture, his looks, until your eyes drift to the window behind your couch. The rain blurs the windowpanes, turning the landscape into some abstract watercolor painting and all that can be heard is the sound of the rain accented with the occasional turn of the page as Ezra reads. Relaxing into the couch, your eyes slowly slip shut as you drift off into a peaceful sleep.

When you finally come around, the sun has set and the rains have stopped. The house is quiet save for a gentle fire in the fireplace, one you hadn’t set before falling asleep. A blanket has been delicately draped over you and you smile to yourself. You sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes, searching for the friendly prospector. “Ezra?” Your voice is heavy, still thick with sleep as you stand to look for him. You find him outside on your porch, leaning against the siding as he looks out over the canyon visible from your home. “Ezra? Is everything alright?” He simply nods, not looking over to you. The full moon illuminates his skin in the most radiant of ways, accentuating every curve and plane of his face, brightening that little blonde patch in his hair. It left you near breathless. A shiver runs through you at the crisp mountain air, left cooler after the rains, and you wrap your arms around yourself to cope. Ezra shifts his attention to you.

“You should be inside, sunshine. The cold will do you no favors.” He pushes off of the wall, turning to usher you back inside. You hear it though, the slight sadness in his voice that wasn’t present earlier today. You allow him to lead you back inside, shutting and locking the door behind him before you turn to face him.

“What’s wrong, Ezra?” A flash of emotion crosses his face so quickly you aren’t even sure you actually saw it. But if you did...for a moment he looked almost...pained…

“Nothing, sunshine. The chill of the night just leaves an ache in my bones, is all.”

“You’re lying,” you whisper, stepping closer. Perhaps it was the bleariness of sleep that still lingered with you that emboldened you. Or perhaps it was the tantalizing aura that surrounded him that drew you in. Either way, you find yourself staring up at him, concern shining in your eyes bright as the full moon outside. His smile is forced, you can tell, as he puts his hand on your shoulder.

“Little gem, I promise you, the weight I carry is not something I need burden you with. Your hospitality has been unparalleled, and I will not permit myself to impose on you more than I already have.” His warm, tender eyes search yours, begging for you to listen to him. But stubbornness has always run hot in your veins.

“Didn’t I tell you before?” You reach up and take his hand gently in yours. “I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t sure. Ezra, what’s wrong?” His hand twitches in yours before he gently pulls away, his smile significantly sadder.

“The life of a reprobate like myself should never tarnish the luster of someone like you, sunshine. I will not give you my sins to carry.” He reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before smiling and moving past you to lay down on the couch. A glance to the clock shows you’ve well missed dinner time, sitting at 8:30 now. With a sigh, you meander back into the living room, taking a seat on the floor in front of the fire, letting the heat warm your soul from the chilly night air.

“We all have our own sins to deal with, you know.” Your voice is low as you watch the sparks wick up the flue. You can feel his eyes on your back, waiting for you to continue. “Everyone has a story. But the mountains don’t care about that. They don’t care about who you were before you arrive here. They don’t care about blood on your hands or the loss you’ve endured. They were here long before us and will remain here long after you or I return to the stardust we are made of.” You turn your head to look over your shoulder to see Ezra still staring at you, the fire flickering in his chocolate eyes. “The mountains offer you a chance, Ezra. That’s why I’m here...and as fate would have it, it’s why you’re here as well.” You turn your face back to the fire, Ezra staying quiet for some time behind you.

“The life I have taken to isn’t an easy one, gemstone.” His voice is low and gruff, his drawl more prominent. “I’ve done things in this life that I am ashamed to admit. Lost as much as I’ve gained, taken as much as I’ve given. And every single soul I’ve urged on to whatever follows this painful existence torments me every time I attempt a moment of respite.” The sigh from his lips is heavier than any weight you’ve ever carried, and it pains you to know he carries it alone. “I tell myself it’ll all be worth it in the end. That I’m toiling away day in and day out for a greater purpose. But it’s been near a decade, gemstone, and the end never nears.”

“You’re tired,” you whisper, turning around to look at him, taken aback by the shine in his eyes. “You’re tired and lonely. I can’t even imagine how heavy your soul feels carrying everything you do all alone, and still managing to put a smile on your face. Lord knows I couldn’t...not ‘till I came here, that is, and the town helped me bare my burden. Ezra, I don’t think it’s a coincidence you ended up here in our town. I really don’t.” You flash him a gentle smile, standing up to grab another spare blanket from the linen box, handing it to him. “Think about it, okay? Stay here for tonight. This cold is no place for anyone right now.” He takes the blanket from your hand, perplexity painting his face as you smile down at him. “Goodnight, Ezra. I hope the fire keeps the specters at bay for you tonight.” He nods as you turn, heading back to your room after turning over the laundry. He was odd, but you liked him.

Bright and early you hear a rummaging in the kitchen, the smell of bacon permeating the air. Stretching, you stumble from bed, following your nose and growling stomach. Ezra is there in your kitchen in just the sweats he was borrowing, humming to himself as he cooks. The broad expanse of his back is littered with faded white scars, some that looked to be from blades, and some from burns. His humming voice is lovely, you think, smiling as you lean against the doorway to watch him. He seems so at home, you feel it inappropriate to disturb him. It’s when he turns to put a bowl in the sink that he catches you from the corner of his eye.

“Well good morning, sunshine. I beg your pardon but I permitted myself the liberty of preparing a warm breakfast for the two of us.” His smile that pulls at his lips is brighter than last night, and you felt certain the dread that plagued him had passed for now.

“Did you sleep well?” You inquire, moving into the kitchen to pull down two glasses to fill them with orange juice.

“A specterless dream for the first time in what seems like forever, gemstone.” He places his hand on the small of your back as he moves past you to keep you from bumping back into him, setting the plate of eggs and bacon on the table. The touch feels electric, and you find yourself shocked in how much you enjoy the feeling.

“The mountains have that effect on a weary soul,” you smile, bringing the glasses over. “Coffee?”

“That would be magnificent. But I don’t presume that the mountains have much to do with the reprieve I was so graciously afforded last night.” Your smile doesn’t fade as you put the coffee pot on to percolate, taking down two mugs after the fact.

“Pray tell what you think might be the source of such a thing?”

“I do believe it might have a thing or two to do with the enchantress that graces my vision in the radiance of the morning light.” Heat floods your cheeks as the coffee pot buzzes, the smell of fresh brew mingling beautifully with that of the bacon. You pour two cups, handing Ezra his before joining him at the table.

“I’m a simple mountain girl, I doubt it has anything to do with me.”

“You humble yourself far too much, gemstone. A heart of purer gold than the ore I mine, and the shining soul to match.” He holds his mug up in a toast before bringing it to his lips. “Ones like you are few and far between.”

“And ones like you even more so, I would say.” You return his toast before serving yourself a bit of breakfast. “Thank you for cooking, Ezra. It was very kind of you to do.”

“But the smallest thanks I could give in return for such philanthropy as what you have shown me these past twelve hours.” He chuckles, eating rather quickly, a habit that you feel was one developed over the long time spent in his lifestyle. He finishes well before you, standing to clear his plate. “I’ve imposed for far too long, I fear. I’ll change and be on my way. Gold doesn’t mine itself, I’m afraid.” You chuckle and nod, standing to stop him as he moves towards the hallway.

“Ezra, you are welcome here always. Tent or no tent, you’re welcome to kick your feet up on my hearth whenever you wish. And I do mean that.” Your voice is soft as you look up at him, eyes to match. He returns your gaze, a gentle smile working his way across his lips as he smooths your bed-messed hair.

“There is that heart of gold, my little gemstone.” The tenderness in his voice warms you through, and your heart aches when he steps away. “But I won’t impose a moment longer.” His smile stays as he goes to collect his clothes, quickly changing in the bathroom before making his exit, heading back down to the mine.

And so the days continue. The miners would come for lunch and you would help to serve it, each day Ezra staying close to you to keep you company. His honey dipped accent brought you more joy than you thought a simple sound could, and it made the days pass more quickly. In the evenings when he was done at the mine, he would come to your doorstep, leaning against the support as he talked with you, reveling in the laugh he was able to earn from you with his tales. Each night, you would offer him a warm place to lay his weary head, but every night was the same. A polite decline and an insistence that he could not allow himself to burden you more than he already had before he would excuse himself, heading back to the ridge where the trees would keep him company.

The night he doesn’t come to talk to you, you find yourself watching out the window for him, worry seizing your heart. The sky had been boiling as you had finished working in your yard for the evening, waiting on the loquacious prospector to come and keep you company as he had for weeks now. Rain was coming, you could feel it in your bones, a chill gripping you as the night grows colder. As far as you knew, Ezra still hadn’t purchased himself a proper shelter to ward off the rain, and that thought terrified you. No one should be out in such conditions, no matter how much they felt they deserved to be.

Lightning cracks the sky, your worried reflection flashing back at you for the briefest of moments as the bottom opens out of the sky. A Colorado thunderstorm, true to form. A shiver runs through you at the thought of Ezra out in this, and you decide it best to start a fire in the event that he happened to stumble to your doorstep. And no sooner have you worked the fire up to a low roar in the hearth, do you hear a knock at the door. You wrap your knit blanket around your shoulders, moving to open the door, and there he stands looking more akin to a drowned rat than you have ever seen. Lightning illuminates his face and all you can see is pain, sending your heart into a sprint as you reach for him, pulling him inside.

“Ezra, oh my God, what happened? Why were you out in this?” You lead him into the living room, sitting him down in front of the fire to dry him out and warm him through. “Are you hurt, what happened?” He only groans, leaning forward until his face rests against your shoulder, his breathing ragged. Your arms gingerly wrap around him, holding him to you. “Ezra, you’re scaring me, what happened?”

“A-Accident. In the mine. Rock slide. Hurt m-my arm…” He groans and your throat all but closes as your blood runs cold. You pull back gently, cradling his chin in your palm. The way his forehead creases in pain terrifies you before you even so much as see his arm. You pull back just enough to see the blood soaking through his drenched jacket, his arm cradled at an unnatural angle.

“Oh fuck…” You pull back, easing him down as gently as possible as you pull out your phone, cradling his head in your lap. After the third ring, a gentle voice answers. “Dr. Renslier, I need you to come to my house right away. I have an injured miner here. His arm is badly hurt and he’s bleeding through his clothes. I’m scared to move him…” Ezra’s breath hitches as he bites back another groan, guilt settling in his stomach at causing you so much worry.

“G-Gemstone, stop those tears…” He reaches up with his good hand, wincing as it jostles his right arm, to wipe the tears from your cheeks. “An incorrigible man such as myself is undeserving of such acts of affection. Save those diamonds, little gem.” You tilt your head into his touch, fear still paralyzing your heart.

Dr. Renslier was the only doctor in town, a retired surgeon from Denver Medical Center. He was the best of the best during his time there, and decided to take his skills to this little community, settling in with his wife and their three dogs. The town loved him, and he was one of the few people you would trust with your life in a fraction of a heart beat. So when your door opens and you hear his voice calling from the doorway, a wash of relief floods over you. He kneels next to Ezra, already pulling out scissors to cut away the bloodied jacket. The sight this reveals has your stomach turning and you fight to keep dinner down.

“W-Well? How bad is it doc?” Ezra’s usually rich voice is weak and strangled as he battles with the pain. “Give it to me st-straight.”

“It’s...not good. I don’t think...I don’t think we can save it.” Bone protruded through what was left of the skin in multiple places, the breaks jagged and splintered. “Even if we were in Denver I don’t think I could...save this.” He rummages in his bag for a syringe, tapping out the air before squeezing the flesh of Ezra’s shoulder, administering the injection. “That will help with the pain.” He grumbles about the storm as he pulls out a tourniquet, tying it off just below the shoulder. “We need to get him to the office. He’s going to need a transfusion and I need to operate, now.” You nod as you shift out from under Ezra, him already feeling the effects of what you could only assume was morphine, before helping the doctor to carry him to the car. You elect to ride along, knowing he would need help getting Ezra inside before the nurse on duty would take over.

As soon as you are ushered from the operating bay, you stagger to a chair, sitting down heavily as the adrenaline finally wears off. Tears brim and spill over once again before you drop your face to your blood covered hands, sobbing. Eventually, your sobs turn to whimpers turn to pained sniffles before exhaustion overtakes you, succumbing to a fitful sleep. You are awoken by the nurse, a gentle, pity-filled smile on her face. “He’s out of surgery and resting in a bed now. We need to get you cleaned up before you can see him, ok? We have a set of scrubs you can wear for now.” You simply nod, getting up to follow her as she leads you to the bathroom. The scrubs are folded neatly on the bench by the sink and you smile despite yourself.

Once clean and dressed, you make your way back out to the hall, the nurse waiting to lead you to the recovery beds. You feel as if you could collapse in sobs once more seeing Ezra laid up as he is, face pale and IV drip in his arm. Small bandages littered his face and what you could see of his left arm. As for his right...all that was left was a nub just below his shoulder, tied off in a neat bandage. You draw up a seat next to him, taking his hand in yours, drawing circles along the skin with your thumb. You would wait here for him to wake, you decide.

And so you do, falling asleep with his hand in yours. The feeling of his hand twitching in yours is what wakes you, your eyes snapping open to check on him. The groan that slips from his lips sounds so pained. Slowly, his eyes flutter open, squinting at the bright lights of the med bay before they land on you. A smile tugs at those lips of his when he realizes you were still there, beside him, and he squeezes your hand weakly.

“My little gemstone…” His voice is hoarse, but sweet, traces of that honey slowly returning. “Did you stay here the whole time?”

“As long as they would let me, Ezra.”

“You really didn’t nee-” You cut him off before he could finish the sentence.

“I wanted to. Please don’t ask me to leave, Ezra, because I won’t. I’m not leaving your side.” Rich chocolate eyes grow glassy at your proclamation, hips lips pressing into a tight line, but he nods all the same, secretly relieved that you wanted to stay with him.

“You must believe me a damn fool for finding myself in such a predicament.” His voice is tinged with humor, and you flash him a tired smile, shaking your head.

“It was an accident, Ezra. You said so yourself. I’m just relieved you’re alive to joke about it.” You return the squeeze to your hand and his eyes travel down to where you have interlocked your fingers with his. “Ezra,” you say quietly, drawing his eyes back to yours. “I want you to stay with me.”

“Well, I imagine that will certainly be preferable to the minute comforts an institution such as this could afford me whilst I recover as best I can…” His voice trails off, tight at the end of his statement as he looks to what remains of his arm.

“That’s not what I mean,” you whisper, your voice trembling with trepidation. Concerned eyes find yours again, an eyebrow arched. “I want you to stay with me. No more roaming, no more running...stay here. After the rush leaves, I want you to stay. With me.” His lips part slightly as you vocalize a desire he has had since the day he first followed you home.

“Sunshine, I couldn’t possibly be such a burden on you.”

“Dammit you bullheaded man! Listen to me! You aren’t a burden, you aren’t a hassle. Arm or no arm, I want you here, with me. Sharing my home, my life. I want that, Ezra.” You pick up his hand, bringing it to your lips to brush them over his knuckles. “I want you. I want an us…” You clench your eyes closed and you feel him pull his hand away before he lays it against your cheek.

“Gemstone...look at me.” You do as asked, looking up at him with glassy eyes that match his own. “Do you mean it? Do you really want me here? Is that what your heart is singing to you?” You nod, laying your hand over his against your cheek.

“Yes, Ezra, and I think it has been since the day you followed me home. Please, Ezra…” Confliction flashes in his eyes as he watches your face, your tears spilling over once more and he quickly wipes them away with the calloused pad of his thumb.

“No tears for me, little gemstone. I...I’ll stay…” You blink, almost not believing the words that came from his mouth.

“You...you mean it?”

“I do. My bones are tired, gem. My soul is tired. And since you extended such kindness to me that night, my dreams have left me in peace. All I dream about are your eyes which hold galaxies and your musical laugh. And being next to you…” You turn your head to nuzzle his hand, warmth flowing through you as you take in his words before you look back to him.

“We’re not so different then. You haven’t left my dreams, or my thoughts, since that night.” Ezra chuckles lowly before letting out a yawn, sinking back into the pillows. “Rest now, alright? I’ll be here when you wake.” He nods, pulling your hand away from where it holds his to your face, bringing it to his lips to place a feather-light kiss to your knuckles before laying it to rest by his side, his eyes slowly slipping shut.

The gold rush brought many people to your quaint little mountain town; miners and prospectors, dreamers and fighters, men and women with delusions of grandeur and those just trying to scrape by. But out of all of them, all of those you had befriended in your time helping to ensure they were fed, the one most important to you was Ezra. You don’t think it was a coincidence he ended up running to the same town you did so many years ago. The universe worked in ways no mere mortal would every truly understand. But that didn’t matter. So long as you had him by your side, the universe could act however it saw fit. Because with Ezra here beside you, your two weary souls could finally find solace in the cradle of the mountains.

~~~~~

Tag lists: Permanent: @ahopelessromanticwritersworld, @tangledlove27, @paintballkid711, @lose-eels, @adamdrivercouldchokeme

Tag lists are open! Requests are open!

#Ezra #ezra prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra x f!reader #ezra prospect x f!reader #prospect #pedro pascal #my fic

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stutterfly · 5 years ago

Text

Swipe Right 02 | Crosstalk | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst [later on], humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 10.2K

Last time on SR01: Namjoon introduced you to his friends and you find yourself absorbed into their little group rather quickly. While on your way to a Halloween party hosted at Jimin’s beautiful condo, you admit to your best friend Jennie that you have a crush on the sweet, shy, nerdy Jungkook. This just happens to be the same night he reveals his true nature: fuckboy. Now that’s just embarrassing, isn’t it?

Tags: Fuckboy Jungkook, let’s play some drinking games, dirty jokes, innuendos, friendship feels, jealousy, flashing, sexual tension, dumbBitch reader is drinking her dumbBitchjuice tonight, Tae makes things weird for half a sec, hint of foot fetish?, flirting with Hobi, flirting with Jin, embarrassedJoon who is also a mediator part time, tsundere softYoongi, Jimin is a traitorous snake who lives for the drama, Jungkook is like the kid pulling the pigtails of the girl he likes, tiniest glimpse at softboyeJK underneath

CW: excessive drinking, filthy language

Series: Activate your SIMCard Fic: Swipe Right (2/?- Ongoing)

Do not repost. masterlist // previous chapter // next chapter

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

It's been months since the fiasco with Jungkook. You do your best to avoid any opportunity to hang with the group in a stationary setting when he’s present, but he’s kind of an unavoidable obstacle at this point. Pissed doesn’t begin to cover your feelings towards him and hurt doesn’t quite do it either. You’re angry about the things he did, the things he said, the way he covered up his true self, but most of all, you’re furious that your feelings didn’t just evaporate with the shift in his persona.

You thought time would heal everything, but so far it’s only turned you bitter about the whole thing. He still smells so fucking good. He’s still got a body like the weightlifting champ he is. He’s still dorky and funny in ways you wouldn’t expect a tool of his calibre to demonstrate. But he’s also a player and a crass asshole. A crasshole. Has he ever stayed with the same girl for more than a few days? You’d wager a confident sum of money that he never has.

Even though you hate his guts, your brain still finds ways to remind you that even if he’s a dick, he’s a dick you’re still attracted to. He’s the kind of dick you suck one night after getting drunk on cheap beer, and in the light of day you are disgusted with everything about it. So don’t get drunk and don’t suck that dick. Easy peasy, especially since fury overtakes you any time you look at him.

Pissed at him? That doesn’t cover it. Pissed at yourself? That’s closer, but it's still not quite all-encompassing. It’s some sort of culmination between the two that has you absolutely livid with the entire situation any time you think about it. He made you feel like a fool. You genuinely liked the person you thought he was, and he embarrassed you. That made not talking to him the way you did when you thought he had the emotional capacity of an actual decent human being hurt even more. At least you know now that he’s got more in common with a lifeless, unfeeling rock.

Not that he hasn’t tried to get you to talk to him. He has, texting you jokes, sending articles on upcoming game titles, spamming invites to a party on xbox live any time you log on, making a point to stand next to you, interrupting all of your conversations with an obnoxious “Hi, Princess!” and pestering you until you acknowledge him. Thankfully Namjoon has kept him from sitting next to you when you carpool, whether it be for dancing, dinner, karaoke, or any other external hangouts. Nevertheless, he still finds a way to annoy you despite the barriers in his path, and you are ready to claw his eyes out at a moment’s notice.

To keep your mind off how your last crush, well, crushed you and continues to let you down, you’ve been downloading and trying out a few different dating apps. You figure it’s time to find someone to connect with, and this is definitely how people do it these days, but your experience has been less than stellar. Jennie helped you set up your profiles and mentioned it in passing to Namjoon, mistakenly believing you told your other bestie about it. He's been teasing you about it every week since, but has been sworn to silence around the others under fear of you telling everyone about the time you caught him making out with a couch pillow.

He doesn't crash on your couch anymore.

Ever since Hoseok and Yoongi moved into the apartment down the hall, he's spent more evenings on their comfy sectional than you can count, but always after binging Kung Fu movies and bringing gratuitous amounts of takeout over your place. You’re grateful for the solitude so you can attempt to converse with strangers via text — maybe even flirt a little. Most of your conversations have become stagnant, but there’s been one guy texting you back and forth for a month now. You’re waiting on him to ask you out since you’re too much of a chickenshit to make the first move.

Now, as you walk down the hall with Namjoon, he elbows your ribs. “So... how’s your Jay-Jay?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Jason is fine.”

“He text you this week?” he asks, stopping in front of the apartment door.

Kind of.

“Mm-hmm!” Your reply is overly enthusiastic and it makes him suspicious.

“Did you text him first?” he questions, pausing before his knuckles touch the door.

Yes. But only because I saw a meme I could use as an excuse to talk to him.

“No.” The tone is questionable so you shake your head violently, scoffing. “I told him I wanted to meet in person.”

“Good. Good. Either he responds or he doesn’t,” he surmises, as if what he said isn’t the most obvious thing in the world. He snakes his hand around the back of your neck, massaging his fingers in circles over muscles you didn’t realize you’d tensed up. “And either way, I’m 100% certain you’re way too good for him. So don’t worry about it so much, okay?”

He snickers when you cast your gaze at the floor with a shy smile. “Joonie… That’s really sweet of you to say. I... Thank you.”

He shrugs off the gratitude with a smirk, trying to not let it get to his head. It’s true and you need to hear it. He clears his throat and knocks, nervously glancing over at you with his other hand still working small circles into the back of your neck. You’ll figure out soon enough that he’s also buttering you up since Jungkook is definitely home tonight, contrary to your belief that he certainly would not be.

The door swings open and a very sweaty, very shirtless Jungkook stands with his leg propped against the door, showcasing every glistening muscle of his body in the dim light. He dons an innocent smile, spreading his stance to push the door open wider and making sure you get a good look at the muscles tensing in his thigh. Your eyes helplessly scan the sculpted lines of his stomach, even as he purposefully flexes to draw the tiniest gasp from your lips. Pert brown nipples threaten to steal your attention, but you drag your eyes to the ink splattered across his skin instead. The myriad of tattoos that line the right side of his body tell a story you don’t have time or desire to explore, and you hate the way that your brain notes the curl of black ink disappearing beneath the band of his shorts and reappearing across his thigh.

“Princess, you made it.” He clicks his tongue with a devilish smirk as he watches you look him up and down with your mouth hanging stupidly agape.

Feeling your fight or flight response kick in, Namjoon’s fingers clamp down hard on your neck to keep you from bolting.

“What is he doing here?” you hiss in your friend’s direction, too distracted to fight against his iron grip on your neck.

“I live here,” Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms. “What? Didn’t you come here to see me?”

The anger on your tongue short circuits the connection your mouth has with your brain. Your jaw snaps shut and you roll your eyes, mirroring his action by folding your arms across your chest.

Jungkook seems amused by your irritation, offering a small laugh. “Client canceled so I decided to do a little exercise at home. Problem?”

He lets his hands drop to his sides, knowingly hooking his thumbs beneath the band of his shorts. Your eyebrow twitches and your jaw tightens. He knows the effect he has on women. He knows the effect he has on you. You’re determined to deny him the satisfaction so you simply stare him down. Douche.

Namjoon forces a dimpled smile to cut the tension. “So... I brought jenga! Do I smell pizza?”

You attempt to push past Jungkook, but he makes sure to bump a sweaty shoulder into you. “I’ve gotta shower. Wanna join?”

If you roll your eyes any harder, you might sever your optic nerve. “Don’t touch me.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Somehow you’ve been stuck with the worst jenga player in the world as your teammate. Namjoon may be a good friend and smart as fuck, but he is terrible at anything requiring coordination. He’s been the only one to knock the tower over. Four times now. That’s four times you’ve had to drink the disgusting gin offered in the form of a shot by Seokjin.

“I think I’ll sit this one out,” you declare, wiping the taste of evergreen trees from your mouth as you set the empty shot glass back down. “Jin, jump in for me?”

You sit back in your chair and pulling out your phone to check your messages.The man grimaces at your request. “Do I have to? The odds seem stacked against me. I can only compensate so much, you know.”

Hoseok and Yoongi snicker into their beers and Jimin laughs out loud as he reaches into the communal bowl of popcorn possessively wedged between his teammate and himself.

“I think these teams are very fair,” Taehyung says, licking the salt from his fingers as he sets the last of the blocks back into position.

“I feel like my luck is changing. Different teammate, different energy, come on,” Namjoon assures him, making the first move.

The block slides out without issue and he drops it on top of the tower with a grin. Hoseok hums a thoughtful sound as he pushes a middle block with the tip of his pointer until it falls onto the other side of the table.

“I’m not sure you’re paying enough attention to be the referee,” Jin pouts.

“Are you really so mad that she’s not looking at you?” Jimin teases with a giggle while making his move. “This is one game where you can’t use your face as a bargaining chip, Jin. It’s all skill.”

The older man scoffs, rolling his eyes as he takes a side block and wagging it in your direction. “How will you know if someone cheats if you’re looking at your phone the whole time, hmm?”

“I’ll know,” you mutter, not bothering to look up. “Besides. How do you cheat at jenga? You knock the tower over or you don’t. Team that knocks the tower over does the shots. Those are pretty simple rules.”

Seokjin grumbles something unintelligible underneath his breath in response. You ignore him as you reach for your bottle of spiked root beer, trying to figure out some clever joke that might impress Jason enough to respond to you. You rack your brain, furrowing your brow in contemplation as you stare at the blinking cursor and take a big swig.

Out of the corner of your eye you catch the flash of white and subconsciously spare a glance up. Your stomach flips like it’s trying to win a gymnastics competition and you wish you could press undo on the double take your eyes have just performed without prompt. Maybe he didn’t notice.

Jungkook pauses in the hall, adjusting the white cotton towel around his waist. He’s grinning at you like the cat that ate the canary as he slowly drags his fingers over the edges of the fabric, peeling it from its resting place on his hips. Of course he fucking noticed.

You force your eyes back to the safety of your phone screen just in time, barely missing the flash of his glossy ink-covered skin. When he realizes you’re not watching the show he’s putting on, he fastens the towel around his waist and walks into the light of the den. You swallow, feeling his eyes rake over your form as he passes the table with a loud sigh.

“All clean,” he announces in a singsong voice as he continues towards the kitchen.

You hate the way your jaw threatens to betray you by attempting to drop at the sight of the rippled muscles carved into his upper back and the thick line creased into the meat of his spine. Even with the broad artistic strokes of color swathed across his back in the shape of a phoenix spreading its red-orange wings wide, you can still see the definition of his form chiseled beneath it. You try not to lose yourself in the flawless details painted into his flesh and grind your teeth to keep your jaw wired shut.

Wet, tangled locks of hair fall into his face as he reaches into the refrigerator. When he stands up straight, he arches his back to stretch his chest towards the ceiling. He’s got a tiny jug of banana milk in his palm and he’s working on chugging it down.

He pauses and licks remnants of the cloudy liquid from his lips. “Thirsty. Relatable, right, Y/N?”

You scowl, tapping furiously on your keyboard. “Put some fucking clothes on.”

Jungkook throws his hands in the air in defeat as he casually wanders out of the room. “Okay, okay. I’m going.”

Your eyes settle on the tower. Minutes pass and still it hasn’t fallen. Turn after turn around the table, the game has gone on far longer than anticipated. Namjoon is determined to not lose this time; it’s actually kind of impressive how careful he’s been. You’ve almost forgotten about Jungkook until he reappears, this time fully covered in black sweats and a long-sleeved shirt. The tension in the room is palpable. You’re afraid to even breathe in the direction of the wooden blocks precariously stacked on one another.

Hoseok is sweating as he prods the stack with his index finger, making a high-pitched whining sound as he tries to determine his next move. Jungkook wedges himself between Jin and Taehyung, forcing you to acknowledge his presence as he sits on the opposite side of the table and steals a fistful of popcorn.

After a few seconds, Hoseok sighs at Yoongi. “I give up. You do it. We’re a team. I’m gonna knock it over if you don’t,” he whines.

Yoongi rolls his eyes and quickly shoots his finger out at a random block. It flies across the table at Seokjin, causing him to dramatically duck out of the way just in time. The table erupts with laughter.

“Damn, that didn’t do it. I was hoping we could play cards now,” Yoongi mutters to himself.

“Hey, what are you doing? You almost hit me with that! You have to put that on top! Go get it!” Jin yells across the table, mind already heavily clouded with booze. At least he’s laughing so you know that heightened tone doesn’t indicate any serious animosity.

“It’s right next to you. Pick it up and give it to me,” Yoongi replies while leaning over the table, which causes the tower to immediately wobble. Hoseok dramatically gasps, bringing his hands to his mouth. Seokjin picks up the block and slides it across the surface as he gives you a pointed look.

"Isn't this cheating? Don't they forfeit since it was on Hobi’s turn?"

"They're technically a team.” You shrug.

"You are a terrible referee," he groans, rubbing his temple as Yoongi carelessly throws the piece on top.

Taehyung and Jimin fervently whisper to each other over their strategy before Taehyung reaches out for an easy-looking target. The slightest touch sends the blocks crashing down, causing the man to blink in disbelief.

“Time to drink up your handsome competitor. Gin served by Jin.” He snickers.

Jimin and Taehyung cringe as Jin slides two shot glasses full of the vile liquid towards them. They link elbows and tilt their heads back, downing the burning liquid in solidarity. Jimin seems unaffected while Taehyung’s face scrunches up and he coughs.

“It burns!” he sputters, clutching his chest. He walks into the kitchen, dragging his tongue across his palm as though it will remove the taste from his mouth.

“Thank god. I don’t think I could have stomached another,” Namjoon murmurs, rising to his feet. “Be right back.”

As soon as he heads off in the direction of the restroom, the others start cleaning up the mess of blocks scattered across the table and Yoongi begins shuffling a deck of cards. Jungkook takes the opportunity to slide into the empty seat beside you. You toss an annoyed glance his way in warning. “Can I help you, Jungkook?”

“You could if you weren’t so busy pretending like you don’t want to look at me.” His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek and he smiles innocently when you look up from your phone to glare daggers at him.

“You’re in Namjoon’s seat.”

He ignores your statement, peering over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of your phone screen. “Who are you texting? Is it your hot friend?”

“She doesn’t want to bang you, dude,” you tell him in a flat tone, flicking the power button to hide the message.

“Oh, just like you?” he asks, unable to hide the amusement striking his features.

After years of practicing this song and dance with other women, he’s grown accustomed to everyone wanting a piece of this cookie. There’s no way you’re immune, especially after his performance on the ocarina a few months ago. He charmed you before you could sink your teeth into his neck and do the same to him, and now you're mad about it. That’s your category, right? Your spite is obviously a cover for your disappointment.

Unless it isn’t. His conviction wavers as your jaw tightens and you take a swig from the dark bottle on the table. People don’t get close unless they want to get fucked. Literally. But you are Joon’s ‘friend’ and you seemed genuinely interested in getting to know him, at least for a little while. Most people are good at faking the first time, but it’s been a while and you’re still here. What if you’re actually hanging around his friends for all the right reasons? What if you had something other than shallow intentions? What if he actually hurt your feelings? He sinks back in his seat, silently stewing in his assumptions.

You set your phone face down on the table, a forced manic smile settling on Yoongi. “What are we playing?”

The man spreads the cards face down over the table in a circle, placing a single shot in the center. “It’s called the circle of death. There are a bunch of ways to play so I’m just gonna pick my favorites.”

He gets up, taking the magnetic whiteboard off the refrigerator and furiously scribbling notes on its surface. You crane your neck to get a good read, but it’s still fairly challenging to make out his chicken scratch.

“There’s a lot you can pick up after hours at bartending school. I had fun playing this with the other people in my class but it’ll probably be even better with you guys.”

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ RULES:

A - Face

2 - You

3 - Me

4 - Floor

5 - Jive

6 - Forehead master

7 - Heaven

8 - Hate

9 - Rhyme

10 - Social

J - Never

Q - Eat

K - Rulemaker

Joker - Waterfall

Your eyebrows furrow at the words you can make out. “This seems complicated.”

Yoongi scoffs, setting the board on the counter and leaning it against the wall. “Trust me. It’s not as bad as it seems. Besides this will be right here in case you forget.”

“Does that say eat? Yoongi, what the fuck does that mean?” You tilt your head to the side and try to read the list in its entirety but still at a loss for what it means.

Hoseok scratches his head, equally as stumped by the list.

“I’ll go over the rules once everyone is back at the table. I have a feeling I’ll be repeating them enough once we start.”

You slump in your chair with a pout as you proceed to polish off your beverage. Namjoon returns and sees his spot has been taken.

"Kook," he warns, tapping his friend in the shoulder to try to get him to move over.

Namjoon isn't stupid in the slightest. He may lack common sense at times and he definitely is the clumsiest person in the room, but perception is his strength. What do you get when you add up the subtle glances, the nervous stutters, and shy smiles? Multiply that sum by the times you've tucked your hair behind your ear needlessly, gotten starry-eyed while talking, or claimed a seat nearby. Tallying your distracted behaviors yields a simple answer: a crush.

You don't have to say anything. You never have to say anything because you wear that shame so well. Even subtracting the stunt Jungkook pulled on Halloween and the distance you've put down since then, it's not enough to negate the total. You say you hate him, but those glances are still there. Pressing your lips tight to keep yourself from smiling has become your default defensive tactic. Playing with your hair quickly turns into tugging loose strands back into a ponytail. It’s almost painful to watch. He wonders if anyone else sees it for what it is because Jungkook sure doesn’t.

Staying out of it is tough because he knows both sides. But it’s not his place to spill the tea to either one of you. You’re both his friends and it’s hard not to feel like the mediator that he definitely doesn’t want to be. You’re adults. You can figure your shit out without him to take care of every little thing. Yeah, it would be easier just to do it all for you, but you’ll never learn that way and neither will he. However, that doesn’t mean he can’t drop some caution tape out every once in a while.

Jungkook digs his heels into the floor and huffs. “But I like this seat and you got up so it’s mine now.”

“Joonie, it’s fine.” You manage to keep the irritation out of your voice, talking over the man to your left like he’s not even there. “He’ll get bored eventually. Don’t feed the troll.”

Namjoon shakes his head and takes a seat on the opposite side of Jungkook, grumbling how you’re going to come crying to him later when Jungkook snaps your bra straps or some shit and his friend is gonna end up with a black eye but whatever not his problem. At least that’s the gist of what you get out of your friend’s griping. He may have a point, but you’re not going to acknowledge that. You’re busy looking at the plastic cup full of beer set down in front of you.

You crinkle your nose at Yoongi but he answers before you can ask. “Everyone is drinking the same thing. Even playing field. Not really fair if someone's got more alcohol in their drink."

You catch Taehyung's eyes across the table and mirror his disgusted expression, both of you sticking your tongue out at the liquid.

"Alright. There's only one rule you really need to be worried about in the beginning: my rule to keep you all from getting distracted. If you touch your phone, whoever catches you is allowed to send any message to any contact in it.”

Jungkook grins wickedly at you, noticing the way you drop your mobile device on the table and leave it where it lands face down. Yoongi goes over the rules one by one and gives an example of each being used. Everyone blinks at him stupidly once he gets to the Queen and delivers a deadpan explanation that whoever pulls that card has to eat it. None of you are drunk enough to believe him, so he scribbles the rule out on the whiteboard and writes a question mark instead. He sets the board back in place and continues with his explanation, looking at everyone expectantly.

He points at the board behind him, not bothering to look back at it. "This is here in case you forget what any of the cards mean, but we’ll go slow since there are eight of us.”

A full round around the table and you are all feeling pretty comfortable and giggly. Some of the more tame cards have made their way into the discard pile beside Yoongi.

Jin pulled an eight and made Tae drink until he said stop, which was hilarious and equally terrifying when you realized someone could do the same to you. Luckily the enemy beside you didn’t have the pleasure.

Taehyung pulls a King and tries to make a weird rule that any time a four is played and you’re all scrambling to the floor, the last one to touch the ground has to kiss the feet of the cardholder. When you collectively agree you are not doing that he huffs and makes a rule that for the rest of the game if you have to drink, you have to dirty talk your beer before taking a sip. This rule makes you determined not to lose any rounds.

Laughter erupts from the table when Yoongi calls his drink a filthy little slut before having to take a sip. Hobi is so thrilled when Yoongi pulls a five and starts dancing immediately after that he ended up cackling instead of focusing on the game. He’s less than thrilled about needing to drink after missing the opportunity to dance so he ends up glaring at his drink.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, you filthy bitch? You want me to put my hands around your throat, put my tongue on you and drink up? Alright then.” He coos a ridiculous sound at his cup and guffaws before taking a huge swig.

Jimin covers his eyes and laughs, downing the rest of his drink like it’s water without a thought of whether he was supposed to or not. He gets up to refill his cup as an excuse to hide the heat in his cheeks.

“Hobi’s upping the game. Woooooow.” Jin leans back in his chair, mouth agape with wonder before bursting into a squeaky laugh.

You gulp, hoping everyone is too distracted by their own laughter to notice the way your legs clamp together. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the actual. Fuck. Hobi. I gotta text Jennie. She’s not gonna believe this. No, don’t touch your phone. Don’t look at anyone. Just wait for your turn to pick a card.

Hobi pulls a three and has to drink again. “Ah. This slut wants more. Here we go, baby.”

You desperately scan the circle of facedown cards, a smile forcefully smattered on your features. You strain to reach the one you’re trying for. Hoseok slides it towards you with an innocent smile, as though those lips weren’t just spewing absolute filth. “I hope it’s a good one.”

Your eyes drop to the card as you flip it back on the table. Jack. You squint at the board, trying to figure out what “Never” means when Yoongi puts three fingers up.

“Alright, Y/N. This is Never Have I Ever. We all put our fingers up like this. You come up with something you’ve never done and say it out loud. If any of us have done those things,” he pauses and drops a finger so he only has two standing tall, “then we put them down. First one to have no fingers up has to drink.”

Oh no. What haven’t I done? What haven’t I done? The guys all expectantly wait for you to say something. You purse your lips as your mind blanks on every moment you’ve ever experienced.

“Never have I ever…” your mouth is dry. “I don’t know.”

Yoongi laughs. “Don’t think too hard. It doesn’t have to be anything crazy, but it does have to be true. It’s not fun otherwise. People have different goals. You can use it to learn or you can just try get as many people to drink as possible.”

Suddenly a lightbulb goes off in your head. They’re all men. “Never have I ever peed standing up.”

Everyone around the table puts a finger down. The mirth in Yoongi’s face becomes strained and his eyelids flutter as he sighs. “Careful. There are a lot of cards left and you’re about to make yourself a target.”

You press on anyway. “Never have I ever had sex with a woman.”

A few of them tut in annoyance as they’re all left with one finger up.

Jungkook pokes his tongue into the side of his cheek. “You’re not living your best life then.”

You furrow your brow while trying to think of another easy thing that could get them all to lose. Tapping your fingers on the table, you make an effort to focus on each one’s concentrated gaze. It comes to you and you filter your bottom lip through your teeth for a moment. Have they...? You’d bet they all have.

Jungkook rolls his eyes at you. “Come on, Princess. Just say whatever it is.”

“Never have I ever been to a strip club.”

There’s a collective sigh as their hands drop and they stare at their drinks. You grin like a maniac, taking in the garbled sounds of each one dirty-talking their drinks like it’s a goddamn orgy.

Jungkook looks over at you, making sure he has your attention as he offers an amused smile. “You really haven’t been to Wings?”

You’ve seen signs for that club, hating to admit the ads garnered intrigue. It’s split down the middle, supposedly one side angelic and the other hellish. “Nope. Drink up, Jungkook.”

He maintains eye contact with you, bringing his drink to his lips. “Maybe I can get you to come. Will you give me permission to taste you?” He tilts his head back and makes a show of closing his eyes and slowly slurping his beverage. You narrow your eyes at him before he puts the cup back down. “Delicious. My turn.”

He flips the card. “King. Ooh. My rule. Starting now, every time you say something you have to start with the word hashtag and end with dotcom.”

“Jungkook, that’s so stupid,” you say without thinking.

“Hashtag, drink up Princess, dotcom,” he replies with an impish grin.

You bite your lip and stare at your drink. How could you be so careless? They all lean in, waiting for the words to leave your mouth. You hold your hands up in a T-shape. “Hold up. Time out. Pause the game. I need some clarity. Do I have to say hashtag dotcom thing WHILE talking to my drink?”

Namjoon looses it, laughing like a maniac. “Hashtag, I think you fucking do Y/N dotcom.”

Jungkook just smiles, crossing his arms and waiting for you to continue. God, you fucking hate him. This is the dumbest rule you’ve ever heard. It’s going to get old fast. Still, you stare down at your cup. “Hashtag… Uh… I’m gonna... s-slurp your fluids out now, dotcom?”

Jungkook’s obnoxious laugh is piercing your eardrums as you down a few big gulps. The rest of the table roars with laughter and heat burns your cheeks, not daring to make eye contact with any one of them.

“W-What was that?!” Jin yells. “You sound like an alien! Can I give you some pointers, please?”

“Hashtag, Seokjin! You forgot dotcom!” Jungkook says, pointing to his friend’s cup.

Jin curses under his breath and stares at his cup. “Hashtag, this is how you do it, Y/N.” He focuses on his cup without missing a beat, raising it up to the sky longingly like he’s about to start serenading it. “You wish you could hear me say this every day, don’t you? You love how my mouth feels on you. I can tell by the way you’re dripping for me, my lovely. Dot. Com.” He makes a point to run his tongue along the rim of his cup and takes a sip.

Fuck these guys. But also… Fuck? These guys? You’re one dirty comment away from soaking your panties, but they don’t need to know that.

“Hashtag I’m sorry I’m not a slut like the rest of you. Also Seokjin, you’re a bitch, dotcom,” you grumble, gripping your knees to keep your hands off your phone. Jennie will absolutely scream once you tell her about this night. She’ll be sad she missed out.

Jin’s eyes go wide as though you smacked his ass in front of the world, a smile is taking over the corners of his mouth. “Hashtag, stop trying to flirt with me, dotcom.”

You roll your eyes but you can’t help the shy smile that creeps in. Jungkook sits up straight and sighs dramatically. “Hashtag let’s keep going so we can get the rest of this bread dotcom.”

Jimin pulls a king and has made the rule that hashtag dotcom is abolished. It comes as a relief when you’re a few more rounds in, and everyone has already consumed way more booze than expected because of Jungkook’s rule. An uneventful round of drinking passes before Seokjin pulls the last King out.

“A rule, hmm? Alright. When you ask someone to drink you have to hold their chin, stare longingly into their eyes, and ask them to drink.” He demonstrates, holding Taehyung’s jaw in his fingers. “Like this. Will you please drink for me, my dear friend, Taehyung?”

Tae bashfully giggles waving his hand away. “You’re too much sometimes. I think you need a girlfriend.”

Since it only applies for certain cards, you end up forgetting about it as multiple turns come and go without utilizing it. Your turn rises again and you slide the eight face up across the table. After kicking your chair with his feet for the millionth time, you completely forget about the rule Jin made and pick based on your irritation. Eight is hate indeed.

“Jungkook, go until I say stop.”

The words feel satisfying as they leave your mouth, but Namjoon grimaces, anxiously baring both sets of teeth.

“Uh… You gotta…” Namjoon taps his cheeks twice with his fingertips.

Horror replaces that smug satisfaction in the pit of your stomach and it churns a sickness deep inside that pit.

Jungkook cocks his head at you. “You really wanna put your hands on me that badly, huh?”

You exhale loudly and tightly grip his chin with sweaty, hot fingers. Your eyes threaten to burn holes into his. “Jungkook, go until I say stop.”

He’s stunned into silence for a second, adam’s apple bobbing ever so slightly. He blinks at you a couple times before regaining his composure. Who knew princesses can breathe fire? Grabbing his cup, he grins and chuckles an amused sound even as you’re tearing yourself from him.

“Don’t worry I can go all night when you taste so good, baby,” he says, tilting his head back as he drinks.

You keep an eye on his cup, watching the liquid slowly disappear. You have to be careful not to let him finish, but you kind of want him to suffer a little bit. Even though he drinks like a fish, he’s still not on Jimin’s level. This has to be affecting him somehow. He watches you through an annoyed side-eye when you don’t say a word, not allowed to stop until you say so or until he finishes his drink. Your phone chooses this exact moment to vibrate a long sound against the table and your concentrated gaze wanders for a second too long, allowing him to gulp down the remnants of his drink.

Jungkook slams his empty cup down in time for you to look back at him in horror before looking at your own full cup. The room fills with the sound of everyone “ooooh-ing” like this is the sixth grade. With a heavy sigh, you bring your cup to your lips.

“I was distracted. I would have said stop.”

Jungkook leans his elbow on the table and rests his head on a folded palm. His smile tells you he’s ready to dish it back. “Mmm-hmm. Go on. Oh… Wait.”

He sits up, cupping your jaw in his hands so lightly, like it could disintegrate at the slightest touch. He leans his head back slightly, soft eyes imploring you to move closer. He slides his fingers up your jawline, nestling them behind your ears like he’s about to draw you to his lips. “Will you be good and drink that for me until I ask you to stop?”

Jin scoffs. “Wow. Look at this guy.”

The others hold back their snickers. Your eyebrow twitches, smacking his hands away from you. Instead you focus on the cup in your sweaty palms.

“I can’t wait to feel you… dripping from my mouth,” you whisper to your cup, trying to redeem yourself for earlier and doing your best not to think about how fucking good it felt having Jungkook’s hands wrapped around the sides of your face. You don’t spare a look at any of them as you tilt your head back and start gulping the liquid down.

“Much better,” Yoongi says with a smirk, but you don’t hear him over the sound of blood rushing in your ears.

Namjoon smacks his hand to his forehead. “Yeah... I’m gonna need you to dial it back just a bit. I still have to see you at work.”

Jin pretends to wipe a tear from his eye. “Ah, maybe our Zelda isn’t so bad at this after all.”

Jimin, Taehyung and Hobi all have their elbows on the table, cheeks in their palms as they watch your throat make its swallowing motions. They simultaneously grunt differing words of affirmation. About three quarters through, Jungkook puts his hand on the bottom of your cup.

“Stop.”

Mercy? From Jungkook? You don’t believe it, but you’ve been struggling so you’re kind of grateful. Just as you’re about to put the cup down, he taps the bottom of it, forcing liquid to splash upwards onto your chin. You slap his hand away as he cackles and you wipe your lips.

“Fuck you, Jungkook.”

“What time, sweetheart?” He grins when you glare at him.

“Just pick your fucking card before I strangle you.”

“Kinky. You know, I might let you if you asked nicely.”

You get the pitcher of beer from the fridge and start refilling everyone’s cups. He pulls a card that has him whispering dirty words into the rim of his empty cup, holding it out for you to fill. At least most of the cards seem to be gone now. You hate to admit you’re feeling a bit dizzy and out of sorts, but you reason that it’s just a few more rounds, so maybe you just sip on water after this game is over.

Just as you get back to your seat, Namjoon throws a sheepish grin your way. “Joker.”

“There’s only one of these,” Yoonngi begins, looking around the room to make sure he has everyone’s attention. “Waterfall is when everyone starts drinking and you can’t stop until the person to your right stops. Namjoon can stop whenever he wants, but Jin has to wait until he’s done. Then Taehyung waits until Jin is done. Make sense?”

Normally the waterfall card is played in the opposite direction, but there’s so much tension between you and Jungkook tonight and he’s so used to his friend getting his way with women that he can’t help wanting to give you the edge on him. Everyone nods. The realization dawns on everyone that before this can happen, they all have to do two things per the rules.

One after another the guys ask the person to their left to drink while gripping their chins. It would be a fairly intimate scene if people weren’t giggling every three seconds. Still, your heart damn near skips a beat when Hobi’s slender fingers curl under your jaw, drunkenly pulling you closer to his face than you’ve ever dared to get. Heat builds in your stomach and travels up your chest, spreading across your back and prickling your neck. You hope it doesn’t move into your cheeks.

“You gonna take this drink, Y/N?” he aks, unable to hold the giggles in as he wags your head back and forth in his steady hands.

Oh… He’s fucking gone, isn’t he? “For you? Maybe,” you flirt, rubbing your shoulder against his as you turn away.

Jungkook sits up straight, muscles tensing as you twist your body towards him. Suddenly, he looks a lot bigger than you remember. Is he puffing out his chest? You wilt under his irritated stare but are determined not to let it show. You slip your fingers underneath his chin, just barely registering the stubble there. Your slow blink hides the flutter of your eyelashes, alcohol clouding your brain with desire. But damn if the room isn’t still spinning. He flashes you boyish grin when you clap your palm to his shoulder to steady yourself.

“Yes?”

“Drink up, buttercup,” you giggle, pinching your fingers closed beneath his jaw.

A choked laugh escapes him. “You should sit this one out. At this rate, you’ll be passed out with your face on the toilet seat in an hour.”

You spin back to your drink with fury in your eyes; if there’s anything you hate more than Jungkook, it’s being told what to do. Especially by Jungkook. I’ll show you, asshole.

Everyone turns to their cups and mutters a few dirty words before Namjoon begins the circle of drinking. One by one the cups come down, everyone seemingly grateful for the person before them showing at least some kind of mercy. You slow your gulping when you realize Jimin is dragging it out in an attempt to annoy Yoongi. Both of them still seem surprisingly sober for the amount they’ve ingested. Maybe they don’t wear their intoxication as easily as the rest of you. Hobi exchanges a worried glance at you, trying to not let it slip that he’s only pretending to down his beverage, but you can tell by the steady level of the liquid in his cup that he’s pretty much ready to tap out.

As soon as Jimin finally pulls his cup back from his lips, Yoongi stops, immediately followed by Hobi. Yoongi is keenly aware of his roommate’s inability to hold down liquor in large quantities. He doesn’t fare much better with beer. Saving his friend means you can be saved too. He looks at you, raising his eyebrows in warning. You spare a fleeting glance in his direction, but it’s long enough to catch his message loud and clear: Don’t be an idiot, Y/N. Don’t go overboard.

But you turn your attention to Jungkook, who is still effortlessly allowing his beverage to slither down his throat. You gulp in segments, a commendable attempt to keep yourself going. Even for all your efforts, booze spills from the corners of your mouth and leaves cold sloppy trails down your neck as you watch Jungkook. He’s not even struggling. Fuck. You finally give up, allowing the cup to smack down on the table with a messy splash.

He keeps going just to spite you, polishing off his drink with a smack of his lips and a satisfied sigh. He rises from his seat, patting your shoulder as he gets himself more to consume. “It’s cute how hard you tried.”

The final round passes and you are ready to strangle Jungkook for the way he keeps knocking his knees against yours. It’s gotten to the point where you’ve moved your chair so close to Hobi’s that he’s put his arm around you, thinking you are just as sleepy as he is. Truth be told you kind of are. The room is a little too spinny for your liking, but you can’t seem to persuade your brain to make your legs get up and get yourself a glass of water.

“You want to nap too?” he whispers, rubbing the eyes he can hardly keep open. “Come here. Let’s sleep together.”

The innocent words make your stomach spin in place but you don’t have time to ruminate on them. Jungkook hooks his ankle around your chair and jerks it back towards him. Furious eyes flicker on him in warning just as Hobi’s cheek slumps over your shoulder and draws your attention away. Luckily Yoongi springs into action to keep his friend from falling any further into your personal space than he already has.

“Okay, Hobi. We get it. You need to sleep,” he chuckles, cradling his friend’s arm around his shoulder as he helps him to his feet.

Hoseok weakly grumbles a sound of acknowledgement as they shuffle down the hall into what you assume is a guest room. Their apartment is bigger than any you’ve seen so you find yourself wondering just how many guest rooms they could possibly have. Then you remind yourself that it doesn’t matter because you are definitely not staying because getting an uber is always an option.

When Yoongi returns alone, people have started migrating into the living room. Jungkook and Jin are still seated, heatedly talking about some game nearby, but you’ve elected to ignore them in favor of checking your messages. Jason has sent you a few messages that have piqued your interest, including one finally asking you on a date. Does ignoring guys really fucking work? Was Namjoon right about something in his life? You don’t want to believe it.

The words in Jason’s message blur together, despite how hard you’re concentrating on them. You’d told him you were out with friends. He must have known you’d be relatively unavailable so maybe it’s okay that you’re in no shape to formulate a coherent response. Still you stare at the keyboard, jumping when an arm reaches over you to place a glass of water on the table for you.

You blink a few times at Yoongi, who simply whispers a gruff “drink” before grabbing the shot left in the center of the table and downing it as he joins the majority of his friends in the other room. Jungkook looks over at you, eyes dropping to your open conversation when you absentmindedly set your phone down. You take the cold glass in both hands and narrow your eyes in Yoongi’s direction as you swallow down a good portion of the liquid.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

It’s been an hour and if you’re honest you’ve just barely teetered back into the moderately drunk category. Yoongi had offered to take you home when he was getting ready to leave since he was already chauffeuring Namjoon. At the time you declined because you were certain that your natural predisposition to motion sickness would be amplified by the liquor in your system. You didn’t want to make Yoongi’s new car smell like puke. Namjoon has this habit of texting when he’s worried. Even after he left you’d been going back and forth about the night. Honestly it’s kind of helping keep you from passing out and you’re reminded how grateful you are for his friendship.

Sitting on the couch next to Jimin may have also influenced your decision since the man literally smells how vacations feel — and god do you need to relax. He’s also acted as a barrier between you and Jungkook, who has his legs stretched out across the cushions to Jimin’s right. Jungkook has been engrossed in his phone since you left the table, opting out of switching off with Taehyung when he dies in-game. You’re kind of thankful for it. Maybe he’s finally settled down for the night. Does he get more polite with drowsiness?

Jimin smiles softly at you, his arms draped over the back of the couch. The pair of you have been quietly conversing and giggling over the platformer Seokjin and Taehyung have been playing. Jimin’s face still looks a little flush with alcohol, but he only just finished his last beverage for the night. How the hell can someone so tiny pack away so much liquor? You hold in a shiver as his fingertips playfully dance along your shoulder, trying not to let on how the action affects you. His harmless flirting only bolsters confidence hiding in the depths of your mind and you stretch your arms up with a yawn and lean against him, knowingly giving him a better view of the cleavage poking out from beneath the v-cut of your shirt.

Jimin allows a devilish smile to curl at his lips as his fingers walk down your arm. He puts both hands back on the couch, like you’d made the move unprompted by his touching. “Hmm. You’re pretty bold, aren’t you?” His whisper is low and breathy, so quiet you almost miss it. What a tease.

“Hey. Jimin. Come here.”

The unusually quiet Jungkook knocks his foot against his friends knee, which pushes Jimin’s thigh up against yours. You softly sigh at the contact and the subsequent loss when Jungkook sits up and Jimin apologetically scoots away. You plant an elbow on the armrest beside you and prop your cheek up on your palm. Seokjin is carrying Taehyung through this level it seems.

“Do you think I should tap that?” The words are loud enough to distract you so you can’t help but turn your head in their direction.

“I think she might be out of your league,” Jimin giggles. “Besides she’s older than you. I thought that bothered you?”

“Oh. No way. I love it. When they have more experience I don’t have to work as hard,” he replies with a lofty sigh.

“Are you sure about that in this case? You’re very presumptuous.”

Your blood heats up the back of your neck. Why are men so disgusting? You grit your teeth, unable to hold in the sound of disgust that makes its way through them.

Jungkook’s head snaps up and he locks eyes with you. There’s something smug about his expression, like he’s stupidly proud of pulling that reaction from you. “Aw, are you feeling left out, princess? Here, see for yourself. Don’t you think she’s pretty?”

When he flips his screen around your own profile is staring back at you. Straightening your spine and reaching across Jimin’s lap for him, you hiss, “Jungkook, I’m gonna kill you.”

“Why?” He tilts his head to one side, feigning confusion and looks at the profile again. “I think she’s pretty hot.”

“If you match with me, I will not swipe right on you. You know that, right? So this whole thing is pointless,” you reason, more for yourself than the two men beside you. “You’re not gonna get to me. It’s not gonna fucking work, Jungkook.”

Jimin’s shoulders tremble with soft, mellifluous laughter that spills from his lips as he takes in the exchange. It’s apparent that Jungkook has already gotten under your skin. Denying it is only making you angrier.

“Fine. Fine. It’s gone now, see,” Jungkook says, briefly flashing you the home screen of his phone before putting it away. The image of that big tiddy anime girl behind all those icons is going to haunt your dreams; you can feel it.

You get up to get yourself more water. “I hate you so much.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

It’s late. Seokjin left a few minutes ago and Jimin rubs his eyes, unsure what to do. The selfish part of his brain tells him he should claim the other guest room. The horny part of his brain tells him he should suggest you share with him. The exhausted part of his brain tells him to just pass out in Taehyung’s bed and let him figure it out.

“You’re welcome to stay, too. We have room for you,” Taehyung says with a kind smile. “There’s another guest room.”

You still don’t feel well enough to drive or sit in a cab. You sit with your hands folded in your lap, pondering your shitty life choices. You’ve become pretty good friends, but a sleepover seems a bit strange without your bestie Namjoon to buffer out all of the awkward moments.

You smile as sweetly as you can manage, your voice small and borderline whiny in its need for sleep. “I’ll sleep on the couch. I don’t want to be a bother. Thank you, Taehyung.”

The man rolls his eyes. “I won’t allow you to sleep on a couch when we have beds.”

“Your couch is comfier than my actual bed,” you joke, patting the plush cushions on either side of you.

Jungkook walks in, shirtless and scrubbing a toothbrush furiously in his mouth. He tries to speak but it’s unintelligible, so he turns back around to finish up.

“It’s really okay. I should stay up and finish my water anyway and I don’t want to keep you guys up. I drank a little too much.”

“No shit,” Jungkook sighs as he rounds the corner and leans against the wall. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay up with you, Princess.”

Taehyung flashes his friend a pointed look and opens his mouth to speak, but closes it when Jungkook continues.

“You guys go on. I’ll make sure she drinks up her water and gets to bed.”

You glare at him as Taehyung moves in to whisper something to him, but you lose focus as Jimin pulls you into a tight hug that you can’t help but return.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” he mumbles into the fabric of your hoodie. “I’m glad you’re a part of our family.”

You squeeze his shoulder before he shuffles down the hall and disappears into the bathroom. “Goodnight, Y/N!”

Taehyung offers a boxy smile and a small wave, demeanor changed after his side conversation with Jungkook. “Don’t take off without having breakfast. Seokjin will come back and make something tasty. Also I put your keys in my studio so good luck finding them if you try.”

You half laugh, half scoff. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind. ‘Night.”

“Goodnight,” he says, passing Jungkook a tight lipped smile on his way down the hall.

Jungkook waits until he hears the door close before he speaks and for the first time since you met him, his tone borderlines concerned. “Be honest with me. How sick are you right now?”

Your throat swallows down a thick mass of air. “I’m fine.”

“Tch. Okay, Princess,” he scoffs in disbelief, taking slow steps towards you with his hands buried in the pockets of his black sweatpants. “Do you need a bucket?”

“No.” You drink down your water, trying to focus on anything but the way your body is producing enough sweat to make you want to discard your hoodie as soon as he leaves you alone.

A door opens down the hall and Jimin shuffles out before disappearing into another room. The quiet click of the door closing causes Jungkook to sigh.

Spinning. The room is spinning again. You hold the cold glass in your hands like it’s your lifeline, shut your eyes and throw your head back to rest it against the couch. You don’t notice when he leaves, but you definitely notice the cold cloth pressed to your forehead when he returns.

“Do you want comfier clothes?” he quietly asks, voice bereft of any humor as he sinks into the cushion beside you.

You open your eyes and glare at him like this is some prank he’s playing on you but you’re not sure how. “No.”

He rolls his eyes. “Suit yourself. I get hella hot when I’m drunk off my ass. Figured I’d ask.”

“I’m not...” you begin, trying to bring your head to rise. It feels heavy and plops back down on the seat.

“You’re drunk,” he states plainly. “And miserable. So drink up the rest of the water and I’ll show you to the guest room. It’ll be embarrassing if any of my friends wake up to you looking so pathetic. Come on.”

He helps you bring the cup to your lips and tilts your head forward enough to safely consume the rest of the water in your glass.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“If you think this is what nice guys are like, I feel bad for you.” He puts the glass down in the kitchen sink, briefly rinsing it.

“Jungkook,” you whine, an exasperated sigh passing your lips with his name.

“What? Your judgement of character is way outta whack. It’s just sad,” he explains, crossing the room while rubbing fresh lotion up his arms. Washing dishes makes his skin feel itchy.

“Alright. Come on. Up.” He waves his arms lets them weakly smack his thighs when you don’t move.

A whiff of sweet peaches and soft jasmine pervades your nostrils. Why does he have to smell so fucking good? He removes the cool cloth from your forehead, earning a whine from you.

“You’ll get a new one when you get in bed. I can carry you, if that’s easier.”

“Tell me why you’re doing this. I don’t get it. What do you want?”

“I want to go to sleep so I can be lazy tomorrow and do nothing but play video games.” When you don’t budge he sighs and sits down beside you again. “And... because... you’re Namjoon’s friend and he asked us to look out for you... And now you’re all of my friends’ friend… And I guess that makes you my responsibility.”

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t expecting you to just decide you’re gonna be nice out of the blue,” you weakly smirk and let your head roll to the side so you can look at him. “Should have known it was Namjoon.

He hums an amused sound. “Yeah. Now are you going to let me get you in bed?”

You’re able to force your head up at that. “I can get myself in bed just fine thanks.”

He laughs. “Your loss.”

You stand on unsteady legs. “Where am I going?”

Jungkook grins, entertained by your lack of coordination. “That’s a good question. Where are you going, Princess?”

You stumble a bit, reaching out to steady yourself with a wall that is definitely too far to grab. Long, tattooed fingers grip your shoulders in an instant. The heat of his massive chest presses against your shoulder blades. Even through your layers of clothing you can feel how hot his skin burns and it makes you shiver, despite the way you’re soaked with sweat.

“Don’t make me ask you for help,” you plead. “Please don’t.”

“Do you want me to pretend like you didn’t beg for it, too?” he whispers, curling a muscular bicep around your back and guiding you down the hall. As he passes the thermostat, he makes a point to lower the temperature a few degrees. Jimin, Hobi, and Tae will survive. But then again, he’s not worried about them at all, is he?

“Haven’t you embarrassed me enough?” You voice cracks and you’re barely managing to hold back the tears threatening to spill out.

He doesn’t say a word as you cling to the strength of his body, looping your arms around his neck and waist as though he isn’t the last person in the world you want to tangle yourself in. He pushes the door to his room open with his shoulder, making sure you get across the threshold okay before helping you awkwardly waddle over to the unmade bed. You don’t seem to notice, and if you do, you definitely don’t comment.

Your hoodie is falling from your shoulders as you climb onto the mattress. Jungkook grabs the fabric and slings it over his shoulder. You’ve landed at a weird angle across the pillows and show no signs of correcting your position so he moves the pillows beneath your head to comfortably accommodate you. You slowly blink at him, but you’re not seeing him. Silent tears rolling down your cheeks as he grabs the thinnest sheet on his bed and pulls it over your form up to your shoulders. He chooses to ignore the way you quickly swipe them away and instead goes to get the cold towel he promised.

Standing in the sink with ice cold water running over the cloth in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he whispers into the air around him, knowing no one will ever hear it.

When he returns he waits a moment, looking for the steady rise and fall of your chest. He smooths the hair from your face before pressing the cold cloth against your sweaty forehead, turning your head to the side just in case your body decides it isn’t quite ready to rest. He lightly pats your head a couple times and leaves the room, delicately closing the door behind him.

As he makes the journey back to the couch, he feeds his arms through the sleeves of your hoodie. He settles down on the couch, feeling the warmth of the space you’d been occupying all night beneath his head. Pulling down the blanket from atop the back of the couch, he brings his knees to his chest. He bunches the soft, excess material of your hoodie in his palms and turns his head into the fabric, allowing himself a subtle inhale.

Why do you have to smell so fucking good?

#magicshopnet #smutcentralnet #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff

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mc-lukanette · 5 years ago

Text

Grade for Each Other (Part 3)

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Luka wasn't sure how much information he'd actually retained from the school day, and honestly, he couldn't say that he cared. He probably just ended up smiling to himself the whole time, likely leading people to think that he was just really happy with whatever was being said.

If said things came from Marinette's mouth, there'd at least be some truth in that.

Luka looked over to Marinette as they left school together, watching her dig into her backpack for something seemingly important. Just as he was about to ask her if she wanted help, she finally pulled out a single piece of paper and held it straight out, her face determined and the gesture singing, 'victory!'

She clearly didn't know that he was staring and was just acting on her own energy. She was so adorable and he couldn't help grinning.

Swinging her backpack over her shoulder, she—

"Marinette?" he called.

She looked over at him, halfway to unfolding the paper. "M-mm?"

He pointed at her backpack, which she hadn't closed yet.

She glanced over her shoulder. "Oh!" Blushing in embarrassment, she asked, "Can you...?"

He smiled. "Gladly."

Stepping behind her, he grabbed the zipper tab and pulled it around to neatly close her backpack. He could hear her fiddling with the paper and respected her privacy enough not to peek at it over her shoulder.

Suddenly, Mito called out behind him, "Luka~!"

He looked over, seeing Claudine, Roche, and Mito almost huddled in a vague circle, which could only mean bad things according to him. Claudine was grinning, Mito was waving and Roche was giving him a two-fingered salute.

Without turning his head, Luka glanced at Marinette's backpack, then pulled his hands away, raising them to show his innocence.

The three promptly went back to discussing things amongst themselves. He was suspicious, but wasn't going to eavesdrop. It was entirely possible that they were talking about where the four of them were going to hang out that day, but he imagined that wasn't it, or they would've involved him.

To his side, Marinette made a sound of discomfort, vaguely mumbling what sounded like his name. Taking that at his cue, he finally glanced at the paper in her hands.

It was a map, seemingly of the walk from school to her home. He knew full well that her old school was just a brisk walk from there to her house, so it made sense for her to be prepared for something longer.

Her brows were furrowed. Her nose was scrunched up. Her lips were pouting just slightly.

Finally, she sighed, mumbling, "Ah, nevermind..."

Luka straightened, realizing what she'd been about to ask. He could imagine the difficulty of her eying the map and also having to keep looking up to ensure that she wasn't blindly walking into danger.

Immediately, he asked, "Marinette, would you like to walk home together?"

She turned her head to him so quickly that he recoiled. Her expression had shifted instantly to surprise and hope. "Really? It's not—I mean, I've never had to before and thought that maybe it was a little childish and—"

"It's not," he insisted with a reassuring smile. "Your house is closer than mine anyway. I don't mind."

He really didn't mind.

Marinette's shoulders relaxed. "Thank you. I thought maybe you'd have plans with your—" She leaned to peek around him. "—oh."

He tossed a quick glance over his shoulder, seeing that his friends weren't there anymore.

Ah, so that was their plan.

He looked back at her, watching her take a quick look around, then at her map. She turned, then headed off in one direction, to which he happily followed after her.

"How's Lycee playing for you?" he asked idly as they walked, hoping that she was still comfortable with her situation.

She smiled. "Good so far. A lot more relaxing."

He'd already guessed it from how she behaved throughout the day, but it was nice to hear nevertheless. Part of him had presumed that her suddenly being in a higher grade would've been jarring.

"I'm getting used to it pretty quickly." She briefly made eye contact with him, her grin almost sly. "Plus, my deskmate is a lot calmer, which is nice."

His smile was far too wide to be normal. Reminding himself to pay attention to where they were going rather than her, he looked ahead. "I'm glad I could help. You deserve it, Marinette."

She sighed, almost blissfully. "Thank you."

Seeing the street they were about to cross, he reached out and gently grabbed her shoulder, stopping her. She looked up from her map to stare at him confusedly, then noticed a car passed by.

"Oh." She gave him an appreciative smile, then walked across when it was safe to pass. "Sorry. It might take a bit before I memorize how to get here and how to go back."

"There's no need to apologize." He followed after her and shrugged, wholly unbothered. "I'd walk you home every day if I could, Marinette."

It took him a second to realize what he'd said; that he'd clearly lowered his guard too much around her. He went to take it back, but paused when he saw the amused but happy look on her face.

Voice laced with a bit more confidence, she tilted her head back and stated, "I might have to take you up on that."

Please do, his heart sang. He knew he'd be teased forever but it'd be totally worth it.

They kept walking, Marinette slowly getting better at watching where she was going while also following her map. The click of her flats against the sidewalk was a pleasant accompaniment to his own footsteps, so even when they didn't talk, he still felt like they were communicating.

"...Luka?" Marinette suddenly piped up.

He met her gaze, hearing the unspoken question and feeling the shift in atmosphere. "What is it?"

"You—I mean, I guess you should know. I guess Juleka didn't say anything, and that's why you didn't know about me skipping grades."

"You don't have to—"

"I do though," she insisted. "It's just... I had to get away."

There was a pause, after which she straightened and corrected, "N-not from Juleka, of course! Your sister is fine—she—it's wasn't her that—" She cut herself off with a whimper.

"Even if it was Jule, I wouldn't judge you, Marinette," he assured. "Some instruments just don't go well together."

She slumped. "What about when an instrument makes all the other ones sound terrible?"

His brows rose. "Someone else?"

She nodded. As they reached a street crossing that forced them to stop, she turned to him. "There was... this girl in my class. She's—and you don't have to believe me—but she's terrible."

"I believe you," Luka told her without hesitance.

Marinette blinked. "What?"

"I believe you," he repeated. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because—" She sighed. "Juleka likes her, and she likes Adrien."

He was surprised, not in what she said, but how her voice sounded when she'd said it. There was a distinct lack of the usual 'ching' when she said Adrien's name.

He tried not to think about it, knowing it wasn't important to their current topic. "I trust you, Marinette. Jule..." He hesitated, then settled for, "There's a reason she is the way she is."

"Ah," Marinette uttered softly in acknowledgment. They were free to cross the street at that point, so she did alongside him, simultaneously getting back on track. "Well, she—not Juleka, the other girl—she's a liar. I tried to tell everyone but..." A bit of life left her voice. "They wouldn't believe me."

His fingers twitched. "She's new?"

"Yeah." She tried to focus on the map despite being clearly distracted. "She talks about all the famous people she knows and how talented she is, and she gets away with it whenever she can't prove something because it's just lies on top of lies. I was so sick of seeing her lead everyone on, but... there was nothing I could do. Adrien knew and he—he told me not to do anything."

Luka couldn't help the quiet "what?" that escaped his lips. This was all new to him and he couldn't comprehend that he hadn't heard a word of it before.

Marinette continued, "I mean—I know he didn't know that she threatened me, but she said that I'd lose everyone if I wasn't 'with her.' I didn't even really try anything after Adrien told me not to, and she—she got me expelled anyway."

The brief silence made it all the more clear to Luka how tired Marinette was all of a sudden, which was a stark contrast to the storm brewing in his chest. "That's—" He stopped to breathe. "That's why you left?"

"I got back in," Marinette assured, "but I just... I couldn't do it anymore. I thought about it, and the whole class was just exhausting. I was already the class representative, and then I had her to worry about, and then no one was believing me, and I—I had to go." She rubbed the back of her head nervously. "T-there were other reasons too, but that was the big one. I did tell everyone I was leaving, so they knew some of it and even then it was a lot, but it felt like I didn't have any other choice."

He nodded in understanding, trying to remain as calm as possible. Going off wouldn't help him - it would only get him akumatized - and that would've just caused her more stress.

Spontaneously, Marinette stopped in place, staring down at the ground with a distant expression. Luka stopped as well, facing her with a concerned expression.

"Marinette?"

"You must think I'm selfish," she murmured. "I...I abandoned everyone just because it was hard for me."

"What? No, I—" He instinctively reached for his guitar strap, glaring at nothing when he realized it wasn't there.

He looked around, getting a rough estimate of where exactly they were at the moment. An idea struck him, and he hastily asked, "Do you mind going off the map for a bit?"

She met his gaze, obviously confused as to what this had to do with what she'd just been saying. Still, she nodded.

He turned and went down the street, walking a bit faster than he normally would. The sound of Marinette's footsteps trailed behind him, assuring him that she was following him without hassle.

At the sight of the music store he'd managed to navigate to, he pushed the door open and held it until Marinette was inside. Afterward, he headed for the nearest guitar that he could handle, sitting down so it could rest in his lap. Looking up at her, he brought his left hand up to the guitar's neck. "See these strings?" He slid his fingertips onto them for emphasis.

She tilted her head, but nodded. With cautious curiosity, she approached and sat down in front of him, placing the map on her lap.

"Guitar strings are strong. They have to be to deal with all the strumming they go through," he explained. "They're tight, but they have the give they need to be played properly."

He eyed her, ensuring that she was still watching him. She seemed to recognize by then that he wasn't going to criticize her, so the tenseness in her shoulders had mellowed.

Making it so his fingers were across every string, he gripped them and pulled down; not enough to where he knew it'd cause actual stress, but enough to where it'd make someone inexperienced with guitars - like Marinette - very nervous.

"They can only take so much stress. They either wear out over time, or—"

He let go, Marinette initially flinching as if she'd expected the strings to actually snap. He waited a moment for her to process that, then held up two fingers to imitate string cutters.

"It's better to cut them than to let someone snap them. If something snaps them, it could cause some damage, but at least you're ready if you cut them yourself." He ran a hand from the top of the strings all the way to the bottom. "You can't replace the feeling of all the songs you played on them, but you can replace the strings."

He stared at her, observing the subtle shift in her expression. She looked thoughtful, her posture easing forward as she eyed the strings he was touching. Even when his own friends didn't understand his music dialect, she always seemed to take him seriously and understood the emotions he was conveying. He couldn't begin to explain how it made him feel, and he only hoped that she might feel the same when he comforted her, like now.

"You're not selfish, Marinette. Not at all." She met his gaze, and he continued, "You're taking care of yourself, and that's great. You have enough going on as it is."

She held eye contact with him for a moment longer. He didn't waver, not moving a muscle until she did so first.

Finally, she closed her eyes. She inhaled, exhaled, then gave him a small smile without looking directly at him.

"Thank you," she said. "Do you mind if we head back now?"

He smiled, satisfied. "Of course not."

Returning the guitar to its original position, he stood up and turned, Marinette already holding the door open for him. Together, they walked out of the music store, retracing their steps until Marinette could start following the map again.

They didn't talk for the rest of the walk to her house. Luka never pressed for conversation either, as the slightest look at her confirmed that she wasn't sad anymore; just soaking in what they'd talked about.

Eventually, the 'Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie' came into view. Luka waited until Marinette stopped in front of it, then he stepped around to face her, giving her a comfortable distance between them.

He expected a simple 'good-bye' or maybe just a wave if she wasn't feeling up to it, but instead, she gushed, "I'm so happy that you like having me around, Luka."

He gaped. He must've looked funny doing it too because she giggled.

"I—I was a little worried at first. You were quieter than usual while we were in school—" Oh, so she noticed. "—and I thought that maybe I did something, or you were thinking something bad about me."

He shook his head, even though she'd already confirmed that she didn't think that anymore. He dared to step forward, placing his hands on her shoulders and lowering himself so they were eye level.

He looked into her eyes with conviction. No matter what she thought now, he wanted her to know what he thought then.

"The only thing I was thinking about you is how this is all new to me, having my favorite melody around for the whole school day."

He felt her stiffen underneath his hands, her eyes wide and practically sparkling. "R-really?"

He swallowed at her powerful gaze, but managed to maintain eye contact with her. "Really. Yes, I was quiet because of you, but it was only in the best way."

She blinked at him, still looking to be in a state of surprise. Admitting to himself that he probably came on a little (okay, a lot) strong, he dropped his hands back to his sides and stood straight.

Not wanting her to feel pressured to respond to such a bold statement, he gave her a small wave and turned to leave. Just as he was facing completely away from her though, a pressure collided with his back, making him stumble.

A pair of arms wrapped around his waist, the light color of the skin unmistakable. He blushed as he realized that Marinette was hugging him from behind.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so much, Luka, for everything. I'm so glad you're here and that I'm in your class."

He shuddered at how genuine she sounded. There was a distinct fondness in her voice, reminiscent of a harp that she'd so casually strummed every string of without effort.

The reverberation rung in his ears, and he could even swear that she was even nuzzling his back. He had to remind himself to breathe.

It was too much. She was too much. Still, somehow, he managed to pull himself together enough to rest one of his hands on hers.

"Me too, Marinette."

They stayed like that for a few seconds longer, with him all too aware of the sound of her breathing. Then, just as quickly as she'd hugged him, she pulled away, clearing her throat audibly.

"A-anyway, b-bye," she squeaked out. He could practically hear the blush in her voice, followed immediately by the sound of the bakery's door open and closing.

Marinette apparently stumbled a bit while inside, but he hadn't seen it for certain; only heard it. It wasn't because he hadn't wanted to turn to look at her, but rather because his body wasn't listening to him.

All at once, he sunk down to sit on his ankles, burying his face into his hands and exhaling against his palms, in a complete state of bliss.

He loved that girl.

[Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10]

#multi chapter: Grade for Each Other #((In which Luka continues to die.))#((Rated F for Feels.))

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floral-and-fine · 4 years ago

Text

When Light Enters the Wound part 1

Sandor Clegane x female reader

Title inspired by this quote: "The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”- Rumi

Summary: When The Hound is saved by brother Ray, he meets the woman who brought him back from the brink of death.

A/n: So I suddenly had the urge to write my first GOT fic, mostly because I'm thirsty for Sandor. Thank you @ewokiee and @liamakorn for all the help!

*not my gif

Cracking an eye open, Sandor was greeted by a heavenly sight, a lovely woman leaning over him as the sunlight shone upon her, resembling a divine glow. The sky above her was a brilliant blue and there was a gentle breeze that tickled his face.

Sandor felt fingertips delicately skim across his cheek and neck, her touch was so light and feathery that it caused goosebumps to appear in its wake.

Surely, he was hallucinating, his mind playing tricks on him as his body bled out, or perhaps it was a fever dream caused by infection. Either way, there was no way in hell any of this was real.

Not able to keep his eyes open any longer, he allowed sleep to take him. Sandor would consider himself a lucky man if he died in his sleep dreaming about a beautiful woman he’s never met, it was far better than the alternative, to continue rotting slowly on this godforsaken hill.

But when had he ever been lucky?

…

Sandor furrowed his brow as he opened his eyes, he had expected to either be dead or still outside waiting for a wild animal to finish him off, not in some tent.

Sitting up, he was shocked to find how good he felt, his body was well-rested, free of any aches and sores. Rolling his shoulders he noted that the gash that had been giving him such grief was gone and his leg had healed.

Immediately, he started patting the rest of himself down, lifting up his tunic, searching for any bruises or cuts, but there wasn’t a single scratch on him.

“What in the seven hells?” He muttered lowly. No healer in Westeros was this good or thorough, he should be dead…

His attention was drawn away from his thoughts, as the flap of the tent was drawn back and an older man with dark gray curls and sympathetic blue eyes stepped in.

The stranger chuckled to himself. “It’s nice to see you awake,” he commented, with a smile. “Honestly, I can’t believe you survived.”

Sandor grunted in response, “you and me both.”

The man sighed, crouching down. “I shouldn’t be as surprised as I am,” he explained, with a shrug. “But you were so close to death, that even I doubted she could save you.”

Sandor’s eyes narrowed. “She who? Was this the work of some fucking witch?” He spat.

The man didn’t seem phased by Sandor’s aggression or accusation, actually having found it more entertaining than anything else.

“I don’t think she’s a witch,” he answered truthfully. “But I’m no expert on the matter.”

“So if you’re not the one who healed me, then who are you?” Sandor interrogated.

“Name’s Ray,” the man introduced himself. “I’m the Septon here.”

Sandor rolled his eyes, “course you are.”

“My flock and I have decided to settle down here in these parts.”

“Where’s here?”

The Septon smiled and gestured to the exit.

Sandor cautiously got to his feet, standing upright without any pain. How the hell had he been fortunate enough for some magical healer to find and save him?

He grimaced at the thought, he wasn’t sure what to think of it, seemed too good to be true, so there had to be a catch, some bullshit about the Lord of Light or The Seven.

Ray took a deep breath, breathing in the fresh air as he took in the sight. “Beautiful isn’t it?”

Sandor hummed half-heartedly, it was nothing special just hills, trees, same old shit he’s seen for months now since leaving King’s Landing.

As they walked, Sandor noticed everyone hard at work, women cooking, men building, children running and playing.

These people were the decent and simple sort, not the kind of people Sandor was accustomed to. People in the city were always looking for a way to screw each other over as a way to gain more power or gold. He had grown accustomed to being wary of strangers, never letting his guard down in King's Landing or while he's been on his own, it was all part of surviving in this world.

As the flock noticed him approaching, they kept their distance but were polite enough.

“They’ll warm up to you if you give ‘em a chance,” Ray reassured. “Doubt they’ve ever seen anyone quite as intimidating as you.”

Sandor didn’t give two fucks, either way, they already treated him better than most people he’s encountered over his life.

Suddenly, Sandor stopped dead in his tracks as he spotted a familiar face, he couldn’t believe she was real.

The woman from his hallucinations was sitting alone, washing clothing in a small stream. Her face scrunched in concentration as she scrubbed the linen against the washboard.

The Septon followed Sandor’s gaze and smiled, “that’s her, the one who healed you.”

Sandor nodded, swallowing thickly, he couldn’t tear his eyes off of her.

“She’s a good woman, remarkably kind... and forgiving,” something about the Septon’s expression indicated that he knew rather well just how forgiving she was.

“When we found you, I thought you were already dead and was ready to put you in the ground,” Ray recounted. “But she got down on her knees, and pressed her ear to your chest, and was able to hear the faint beating of your heart...insisted that we take you in.”

Almost as if she could sense the Septon speaking of her, her head turned in their direction. Her eyes lit up as she recognized her patient up and about.

Forgetting about the laundry, she stood up and made her way towards them, stopping just a few feet from Sandor.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, her voice soft and warm, a tone unfamiliar to Sandor as people rarely spoke to him before in such a manner.

“Fine,” Sandor grunted, looking away.

“I’m glad,” she smiled. “Never seen anyone in such bad shape before.”

“What can I say, I’m a big man and tough to kill.”

She laughed lightly, a genuine smile tugging at her lips as she looked up at him. “Do you have a name stranger?”

Sandor looked down, worried to reveal his identity, his reputation as The Hound preceded him. These were decent people who took him in, and they may not be too fond of having a murderer amongst them.

“Sandor Clegane,” he finally answered.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” she tilted her head. “I’m y/n l/n.”

Y/n, the name suited her, or at least Sandor thought so.

“Well, I better finish the wash,” she muttered, looking back at the basket and clothes. She waved goodbye, her eyes meeting Sandor’s before she sauntered away.

“Still think she’s a witch?” Ray teased.

It was odd to Sandor, neither y/n nor Ray behaved like the religious sort he had encountered in King’s Landing or anywhere else for that matter. Most of the ones he met acted like they were holier than the gods themselves, looking down at the common folk for living their lives, for just existing.

The Hound quickly found his place amongst the community, Although he kept to himself, he worked harder than any other man and did whatever work was needed.

He was breathing heavily, swinging the ax over and over again. The dull thwack of the ax splitting the wood was all he could hear.

These hills were quiet and peaceful, perhaps Ray was right and there was something beautiful about this place. Sandor hadn’t given it much thought, but it seemed that in comparison the city was cruel and chaotic and smelled like piss.

Since sunrise, Sandor had been working without pause, not even stopping for lunch. Even while working he seemed to keep his distance from the others, and the only people who ever came around him were Ray and y/n.

Hearing a twig snap behind him, Sandor, out of habit, swung around with the ax in hand, prepared to attack but immediately lowered it when he saw that it was y/n standing there.

“For god sake woman, don’t you know better than to come sneaking up behind somebody?” He complained, gritting his teeth. “It’s a good way to get yourself killed.”

Most people would shrink away from Sandor, especially after such an outburst, but y/n didn’t even flinch, and he was grateful for it. The last thing he wanted was for her to stop coming around.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” she laughed.

Sandor scowled, “you didn’t scare me, but we might need to get you a bell or something, so I don’t kill you by accident.”

She shook her head and smiled at him. “I brought you some supper.” She held out the plate towards him. “Figured you were due for a break.”

He nodded, setting the ax down before taking a seat on a nearby log. Y/n joined him, sitting by his side just a few inches of space between them.

Typically, Sandor wasn’t one for company, but he made an exception for her. She was different, didn’t avoid him, and always looked him in the eye, never shying away. He wasn’t used to this kind of treatment, especially not from a woman.

Sandor had yet to figure out why y/n even bothered with him at all, why she brought him his meals and kept him company in the evenings, or why she even bothered to save his life.

“It’s a nice day,” she wondered out loud, admiring the sky.

Sandor shrugged, focused more on his filling his belly than the weather.

“Suppose we better enjoy while we can,” she noted, soon everything would be covered in a blanket of snow, that would last for years.

She bit her lip, thinking about how she wouldn’t mind spending a long winter with Sandor, surely he’d be able to keep her warm during the long nights.

A couple of men came rushing towards y/n and Sandor. “Lady y/n come quick,” one of them started. “Efran fell while working on top of the sept.”

“It looks real bad,” the other added.

She immediately got to her feet, lifting her skirts to keep up as Sandor followed.

When they arrived, the group of people surrounding Efran parted allowing y/n through.

The poor man was lying on the ground groaning, his leg was twisted and bone poking through. She crouched down beside him, then looked up. “We’re going to need to set the leg first. Someone hold him still please.”

Sandor stood behind the group, peering over their heads, he was curious to see just what y/n was capable of.

The man howled in agony as they held him down and y/n straightened out his leg, popping the bone back into place. “That’s the worst of it,” she said, trying to comfort Efran.

Laying her hand upon his leg, y/n closed her eyes, Sandor could’ve sworn that she was glowing, a gentle light emanating from her body. Several moments passed, all eyes were on her and everything was silent.

As she opened her eyes and lifted her hand, the gash and bone had healed, looked as good as new.

“Take him to his tent so he can rest,” y/n instructed, dusting off her skirts as she got off the ground.

“So how are you able to… heal others?” Sandor asked bluntly, now that they were alone again.

“Not sure,” she said, folding her arms. “I’ve never really been the religious type, I don’t pray or even know who or what to worship for that matter… Ray says it’s proof that there’s something, but I don’t have any answers.”

Y/n noticed the rough conditions of his hands, they were rugged and calloused from before, but she could see new blisters forming and small cuts all over his knuckles, most likely the result of all his hard work.

Reaching out she took his hands in hers. Her thumbs gently caressing over his skin. A warmth began to spread from her touch to his skin.

“Good night, Sandor,” she murmured, before letting loose of his healed hands.

…

The morning was still young when the flock had gathered to listen to the Septon's sermon.

When Ray started to speak, it wasn’t what Sandor expected. It wasn’t a lecture on sin or how the gods were judging them.

The Septon’s story hit a little too close to home for Sandor. He had always believed that the only thing he was good for was killing. For the king and for that shit Joffrey, he had committed horrible atrocities, he murdered an innocent child for gods' sakes.

Sandor’s eyes flickered down to y/n who was sitting in front of him as he stood behind her. He wondered how much she knew about his past. Would she still be just as sweet and kind to him if she ever saw what he was capable of?

Ray’s attention turned to y/n then Sandor, the older man couldn’t help but notice how Sandor looked at the healer of his flock. He recognized almost immediately how much he and the Hound had in common, and knew well what inner turmoils the man was struggling with.

“I was hired as a sword for a pretty damn easy job,” he sighed continuing his story. “Just had to kill a woman. I didn’t care why didn’t even question it, Figured it was as good as done.”

Ray ran a hand through his hair. “On my travels to the small village she resided in, I was ambushed by some bandits, they robbed me blind and left me for dead out on that road. I thought this had to be it, they took my money, my horse, cut me open… and then things went dark until I woke up in a small hut.”

“The villagers had brought me to their healer, a young orphaned girl... when she introduced herself that’s when I realized that this girl was the one I was sent to kill.”

“You’d think I would’ve changed my mind right then, and leave her be,” the Septon shook his head a distant look in his eye. “But I had just lost everything, I needed that gold, or at least that’s the excuse I made.”

“I bided my time, gained the trust of the village before deciding to act,” Ray looked down at his clasped hands. “On that fateful night, I took a knife from the kitchen, and was fully prepared to slit her throat as she slept… but as I held it, pressing the sharp edge against her skin, it hit me about how I was taking something good from the world, and how goodness was so rare to find. Who knows how much goodness I had already taken from the world, what right did I have to take more?”

Y/n smiled at the Septon, encouraging him to finish their story.

“For the first time in my life, I wanted to do the same to bring some goodness into the world, no more death, no more senseless violence… that wasn’t going to be my life anymore,” Ray wandered over to y/n, patting her shoulder. “Since then, I’ve changed my ways, and with the time I’ve got left, I plan to use it for good.”

Just as the Septon's lesson started to sink in for Sandor, three men on horses approached.

Ray tried to appease them, but still, their presence made Sandor feel uneasy.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that these men were up to no good. Stumbling upon this community was like finding an unguarded vault, supplies, food, women, all for the taking.

Y/n joined Ray, a kind smile on her face as she tried to reason with them as well.

It didn’t escape Sandor’s attention how the man in the yellow coat was eyeing y/n, the stranger's intentions were anything but good.

Sandor’s fists clenched as they made eye contact, he should grab an ax or something and take care of them now.

But Ray seemed to urge against it.

“Do you really think they’ll come back?” Y/n asked once the three strangers had left.

Sandor’s shoulders slumped, “Aye, to them this is easy pickings… unarmed common folk with plenty of supplies and food.”

Y/n wrung her hands nervously. “I see,” she mumbled, looking back at the tents, these were her friends, her family, this was meant to be a safe haven. For the last decade or so, she and Ray had worked hard towards their goal, they were so close to it now.

Sighing, Sandor laid a hand over both of hers, “I’ll do what I can… just stay with me.”

She nodded, taking in a deep breath, “you’re a good man, Sandor.”

He shook his head, “I’m no such thing.”

“It’s a shame you don’t see it,” she said softly, now cradling his large hand in both of hers. “When I spotted you on that hill I saw so much potential, even covered in all that blood and dirt… the world needs you Sandor Clegane.”

For the rest of the day, y/n stayed by Sandor’s side, watching him work and helping when she could.

Deep down Sandor hoped his instincts were wrong, that those men would simply move on but when a shrill scream shattered the peaceful silence, he already knew it was too late.

Rage, as Sandor passed body after body, all he felt was rage. This community hadn’t done anything to deserve being slaughtered like this. They were innocent people, just trying to live their lives and do some good for the world. The monsters hadn’t spared anyone, not even the children.

This once-peaceful place, the place he was considering to call home, had now been desecrated by a massacre, completely destroyed.

‘Nowhere is safe.’ This tragedy solidified these words in his heart.

Sandor came to halt when the Septon came into view, feet dangling in the air as his body swung from the skeleton of the unfinished sept.

Y/n stumbled beside him, her sight blurred by tears, but it was her heart-wrenching cry when she saw the Septon that pulled Sandor from his stupor.

She fell to her knees, face twisted in anguish as she wailed, she had never seen such horrors in her life.

Grabbing her by the arm, Sandor yanked her to him, blocking her view of all the horrors that surrounded them, and wrapped his arms securely around her.

She buried her face against his chest as he held her close. Her fingers digging into his shoulders, as she clutched him as tightly, all the strength in her legs had given out.

As he comforted her, her pain only fueled his anger further, Sandor spotted an ax nearby, those fuckers were going to pay. He was going to hack them all to pieces.

He pulled away from her, his hands cupping her face, “we’re going after them, all of them.”

Stray tears fell from Y/n’s eyes and slid over Sandor’s hands. “Promise?” She whispered.

...

#got fanfic #got #Sandor Clegane #Sandor Clegane fanfic #sandor x reader #The Hound #sandor clegane x reader #Female reader #reader insert #game of thrones fanfiction #the hound x reader #sandor clegane fanfiction

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hippohead · 4 years ago

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Happy New Year

Pairing: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel Rating: General Audiences Words: 2071 Summery: This is a Halloween fic. I promise.

Read it on AO3

- - - - -

The thing about being Rachel Berry’s best friend is, it’s a learned skill.

And Kurt had put in the work. He had looked past the diva-esque antics and the obnoxious Broadway tunnel-vision and the steamrolling, and underneath he had found the Rachel that he loved. The Rachel who would bring him a cup of tea when she knew he was feeling down; the Rachel who pushed Kurt more than he wanted her to but knew he needed it; the Rachel who was kindness and cared – a lot. And it was worth it, for the most part, to have learnt the skill and to have let her into so many parts of himself.

Except for when it wasn’t.

“You’re being pushy,” he warns, and he knows his tone is sharp enough that it would stop most people. Rachel isn’t most people.

“Kurt,” she says just as sternly, swinging around the doorframe of the bathroom so that she can look at him while she continues her delusional lecture, “I just think it’s time that you admitted it.”

He adjusts his cat ears because they’re already giving him a headache. He knows he should have thought of a more original costume idea but time means nothing when he’s juggling NYADA and exams and showcases and auditions and the diner and friends and- god, he’s exhausted just thinking about it all. If all he could pull together for tonight was a pair of black jeans, a tight black long-sleeve, and a pair of cat ears – well, he thinks that’s quite reasonable considering. “There’s nothing to admit.”

Rachel steps out of the bathroom fully now, her makeup finished and her bob wig firmly in place. “How do I look?”

Kurt breathes a small sigh of relief at the change in topic, finally. “You look like the perfect Fanny Brice.” And she does, but the snarky part of him wants to note that she also could have been a bit more original with her outfit. Rachel dressing as Fanny for a costume party? Groundbreaking.

She walks past him, almost dancing, and sings, “That’s because I am the perfect Fanny Brice.”

Kurt sips at the cider that some of Rachel’s older friends from NYADA had left at the loft after their last party and waits for her to come back from her bedroom. By the time she does – a small purse looking like it’s stuffed with emergency night-out supplies slung over her shoulder – he's already feeling a light buzz twirling through his bones. “What time are the others getting here?”

Rachel checks her phone, “Any minute now.” And then, because she’s the worst and unrelenting and incapable of letting anything go, she says, “I think you should tell Blaine that you have feelings for him tonight.”

“Oh my god, Rachel. I do not have feelings for Blaine.”

It’s the easiest lie when he’s saying it to Rachel, because it usually gets her off his back for a little while. There’s something complicated about the lie when he tries to convince himself. And it’s a lie he’d never say in front of Blaine, because saying it in front of Blaine means removing the maybe in their friendship. It would be Kurt clarifying boundaries he doesn’t want and making a possibility disappear that he always wants there.

And so he doesn’t know who he’s pissed off – karma or fate or the stars or whoever it is that controls the strings and the moments and time – because Blaine, Sam and Mercedes have pulled the door open to the loft just in time to catch his last sentence.

His back is to them but he heard the slide, and he glares at a very guilty, meek-looking Rachel. She bites her lips as if that’s an apology and then clears her throat, “Hey, guys!”

“Hey!”

Kurt turns around at Mercedes’ voice, and her eyes are big and wild and trying to communicate things with him that he doesn’t have the ability to decipher right now. She’s dressed as Christina from the Candyman music video, and she’s pulling it off effortlessly. He wants to tell her that but the air feels too weird to speak into. Sam is dressed as some Star Wars character he doesn’t know the name of and Blaine-

“Are you... a pumpkin?”

There’s an odd look on Blaine’s face and Kurt can’t figure it out. He lifts his eyes once he realises that Kurt’s question is obviously directed at him - the only one dressed as a pumpkin - and nods, “Yeah. I am.”

Well, it’s good to know that Blaine can be dressed as a pumpkin and still look adorable. It’s desperately unfair, really. Almost as unfair as the fact that Blaine just heard him rather decisively utter the words, I do not have feelings for Blaine.

Sam clears his throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence that’s settled over everyone. “Should we get going? We’re already going to be late getting to Elliott’s.”

It’s enough to remind everyone that they’re close friends and long past the point of standing in awkward silences, so they bundle up in coats and make their way towards the subway station.

Rachel finds a moment to whisper a quiet, “Sorry,” in his ear once they're on the train. He wants to question her about it – if he was telling her the truth, then there would be no need for an apology. Blaine hearing him say those words wouldn’t be an issue. He wishes she’d just believe him, for once, but then he glances over at Blaine laughing at an impression Sam is doing, a smile growing on his face despite himself, and he realises how transparent he is.

Why doesn’t Blaine?

- - - - -

Kurt is definitely avoiding him.

He’s actually a little impressed. Elliott’s place is on the smaller side, so there’s not a lot of places for Kurt to be where Blaine isn’t. Yet he’s somehow managing to pick the perfect moment to slip to the bathroom, or to claim he needs a little air, or to gesture wildly at his empty cup as he starts to weave his way to the drinks.

“What’s up with Hummel?”

It’s Santana. She’s dressed as Xena Warrior Princess and he’d questioned her about it when they’d arrived – it didn’t seem like her kind of thing, or too stereotypical for her to buy into. She’d set him with an unimpressed stare and said, “It’s Lucy Lawless wandering around with her wife and beating up mediocre men. What about that isn’t my thing?” And, well, fair enough.

“I don’t know,” but he does know. “I think I’ll go see if he’s okay.”

Santana just shrugs, as if her initial question was as far as her concern was going to go, and Blaine starts to move through all of the capes and bright colours and masks. There’s a part of him that doesn’t really want to find him. That means saying things like It’s okay that you don’t have feelings for me and Just your friendship is enough and Let’s just forget about it. The reality is that he wants more than a friendship, but he doesn't know how to risk the friendship to get to somewhere else. And this, this is why he thought they had an unspoken agreement to never clarify what was happening. Because at least if they were living in a limbo that felt sort of hopeful and perfect, the door was closed but not locked.

Tonight, Kurt had keys and he used them.

He finds him in the kitchen by himself, nursing a gin and tonic. “Kurt?”

“Oh.” He looks a little scattered and – weary? “Blaine. Hi.”

It sort of hurts, the way he says that, like he wishes Blaine wasn’t there or looking for him or near him. Kurt’s never sounded like that before. “Can we- can we talk about before?”

He sees the panic move through Kurt’s eyes and almost backtracks, but he can’t do this; can’t exist in the world with things being awkward between them. And he can’t even really understand why they’re awkward. There’s so much unpacking to do about that, but for now he just wants to reassure Kurt.

“Okay.”

It’s a small reply but it’s enough for Blaine. “I don’t really know why things have been a little weird, but I just want to- I don’t know, I guess. Figure out if we’re okay.”

“I lied.”

He’s suddenly very aware of his heart and that it’s in his chest, beating, faster than usual. “What do you mean?”

“I lied to Rachel.”

There’s some sort of plea in his rushed words, like he wants Blaine to hurry up and understand and put him out of his misery. So Blaine tries to hurry up and understand and - "Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Kurt deflates a little and looks down into his drink, “I’m sorry I’m being weird and all over the place. I’ve been trying so hard to be careful with our friendship, and now I’ve just ruined it.” And then, because Blaine still hasn’t said anything and the silence is stretching out in a suffocating way, Kurt says, “Gin makes me sad.”

“I’d be lying, too,” because he’s finally remembered how to speak.

Kurt squints at him, “What do you-”

“If I said I didn’t have feelings for you.”

It takes a moment, but the smile spreads onto Kurt’s face and it’s delicious and adorable and they’re both just standing in the kitchen, looking goofy and happy and risking it all.

“That’s a very stupid and roundabout way of saying- well, I really like you, Kurt.”

Kurt puts his glass down but doesn’t make a move towards Blaine just yet. “I really like you, too. Like, a lot.”

Blaine hums and lets that soak past his ridiculous pumpkin costume – he’s still not entirely convinced that orange is his colour despite Sam’s constant reassurances that it is – and into his skin, bones, being. He decides to be the one to close the gap a bit, moving towards Kurt and enjoying how heavy the air is, how he almost has to wade through it.

“Can I kiss you at midnight?” he asks.

Kurt giggles and it’s silly and Blaine wants to hear it again, and again, and again. “It’s Halloween, Blaine.”

“Mm,” he murmurs, not really sure why Kurt’s clarifying that. They’re both in costumes and there are fake cobwebs covering every surface – of course it’s Halloween. He starts to fiddle with Kurt’s cat ears, “It is.”

“Kissing at midnight is a New Year's Eve tradition.”

“Oh?” and he knows that somewhere in his brain, but he feels like he deserves to be forgiven for forgetting the specific details of which tradition belongs to which holiday because Kurt is very, very close to him and his eyes are sparkling and all he wants to do is kiss him. And so he does, or tries to-

“Wait!”

Blaine pauses, confusion riddling his eyes because were they not on the same page? But Kurt doesn’t move away. Instead, he keeps them in their tight spot together and pulls his phone out of his back pocket. Blaine can’t really see it and he tries to ask what Kurt is doing, but he just gets nicely shushed.

And then, triumphantly, Kurt holds his phone up to show Blaine what he was waiting for – the clock in the corner of the screen clicks over to 12:00 and Blaine gets it. Now he kisses him. It starts off sweet and he tastes like Halloween candy. He’s already addicted to the sugar and he starts to lick along his bottom lip. Kurt gasps a little, opening his mouth for Blaine, and that’s when their bodies shift, too. Kurt’s back is pushing into the bench and he’s trying to worry about whether or not he’s hurting him, but Kurt is somehow getting his hands under the pumpkin’s fabric and sliding at the skin on the small of his back. He’s struggling to find that compassion now when all that matters is kissing Kurt, Kurt's back be damned.

And then suddenly he’s not kissing Kurt.

Because Kurt has pulled away to drag in a breath and there’s an impossible grin on his face and a depth in his eyes that wasn’t there before and it means more, more, more. “Happy New Year, Blaine.”

“Happy New Year, Kurt,” he repeats. And then he laughs because he thinks they’ve just made their own holiday tradition, “Happy Halloween.”

#klainetober #klaine fanfiction #klaine #kurt x blaine #glee #i wrote this!#just something short and sweet because i felt like doing a little something-something

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zodiyack · 5 years ago

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Protection For The Lost

Requested by anon: hello! would you consider writing lost and found but instead of them meeting and having this cute reunion he finds out that she has a abusive possessive boyfriend (some arranged dating) and that boyfriend tries to keep tommy away from her? with a happy end?

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, violence, mentions of abuse, small abuse(?), alcohol mention, cigarettes (the word “fag” is used for it once, but it’s British slang, not a slur!), kinda cheating??

Note: I’m sorry! I'm sorry if I strayed from the request a bit! I’m not sure if I went a bit overboard with any angst or violence or anything- feedback is appreciated! In other words, I hope you like it and now I’ll leave you to read the fic.

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @stydia-4-ever, @matth1w, @redspaceace, @jenepleurepasbaby, @simonsbluee

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

Everyone has a reason. A reason to live, a reason to fight, a reason to sing, a reason to do things in general. If it wasn’t a lover, it was a person of an equal, yet platonic love. Perhaps a relative, a friend, a best friend, it could really be anyone.

Most of the Shelby family already had theirs. Although John had Martha, who sadly passed, he grew to crush on a woman. A woman who, unfortunately for him, was only interested in pleasure. Arthur had Linda, their marriage happy and strong. Ada was...under suspicion to have a lover, but the point was that she had someone.

Sad, horrifying, terrible memories burned their way into Tommy’s memory. The war had an impact on him, an impact horrible and scary, but there was a sliver of light to those memories.

A woman. Or as Tommy called her, an angel sent from the heavens. As soon as he got home, he was determined to find the mystery woman who helped him, healed him, saved his life, and became his reason.

So shockingly to everyone, Tommy did have reason. She just hasn’t found her way back to him. Worries struck his heart each day, wonders of her health and if she was even alive. But determination and love were quick to ease his racing thoughts.

“I’ll find you, Angel. I’ll never give up. I promise.” Though he was aware that his vow to her was unheard, he still planned to stay true to it.

And that he did.

Each day he got up, went on a search for Y/n/n, and talked to his family about her appearance, hopefully giving enough information that they could spot her if she were to end up in the Garrison or betting shop, pretty much anywhere they were.

With each ask of her name, everyone said no. A couple people recommended asking nurses from France who just so happened to be in Birmingham currently, or to ask a hospital.

Tommy followed their advice and set off to the nearest hospital, only earning back a bit of information. But a bit was more than plenty to Tommy, at least in this situation.

Soon enough, he ended up far away from Birmingham, at the doorstep of a man named Henry Bennett. He didn’t know why but if it got Y/n one step closer into his arms, he was willing to do anything. Maybe it was her father? Or brother? Maybe a friend? He was so deep in thought that he didn’t notice the door swing open and an agitated looking man lean against the door frame.

The man, who Tommy assumed was Henry, cleared his throat. “What do you want?”

“To ask you some questions.”

The man chuckled mockingly, “about what?”

“Well, do you know anyone by the name of Y/n/n?” Tommy quirked a brow when the man froze and widened his eyes after hearing the name. He glared at Tommy and readjusted his position to a more intimating stance- failing miserably at scaring the raven haired Shelby.

“Yeah. What of her?”

John stepped up from behind Tommy, “mind if we come inside, eh?”

“Personally, I’d prefer you didn’t, but seeing as the conversation’s topic is of importance,” He moved backwards and kicked the door open harshly with his boot, “come on in.”

The three brothers stepped inside the house, looking around and taking in the place. It smelled strongly of alcohol and cigars. They sat down on the sofa and waited for the man to sit in the chair next to it.

“What’d you say your boys’ names were again?” He groaned as he sat down, moving a bit to get comfortable.

“We didn’t. However, I believe I know yours. Henry, is it? Henry Bennett?”

The man, now confirmed as Henry, nodded his head and lit a cigarette, putting the fag between his lips. “That’s me.” Henry breathed out the smoke before moving the stick back to his mouth, stopping only to ask a question. “How’d you know that though?”

“We have our sources. Now, back to Y/n/n?” Tommy was eager to learn more- whatever he could about the woman he was so whipped for. He would take anything he could get, let it be another address, name, number, meal, anything that could possibly be of any help to his search. “What do you know about her?”

“I could be askin’ you the same thing. Bloody Peaky Blinder goin’ after my girl.”

Arthur and John froze in place, like Henry did earlier, and slowly turned to Tommy. Their faces held confusion and slight worry, Tommy, much to their dismay, returning a similar look, mixed with a tint of jealousy. Arthur tried his go at the maker of their clueless emotions. “How-”

“You think I wouldn’t notice you lot? I don’t know your names, nor do I give two fucks, I don’t know if the rumors are true, again, I don’t really care, and my lack of knowledge for the two subjects do not matter to me.” He got up, walking to the fireplace and grabbing a shot glass from beside it, “plus, the hats really gave you away. I was warned ‘bout those.”

“Where are you from, Mr. Bennett?”

“Here in the United Kingdom actually. But I went to France after the war. And before you ask, no I did not fight in it. Frankly, I don’t care about that shit either.”

John chuckled quietly at Henry’s response, a chuckle of bitter amusement. Purely disgust of the man. Tommy shared the same feeling, whispering “coward” under his breath.

Arthur continued questioning Henry, “Then why did you go to France?”

“Same reason your glare-y friend here came to my home.” Arthur raised his left eyebrow. “Y/n.”

John and Arthur looked over to their brother, communicating with their eyes to wordlessly see if he was alright. His jaw was clenched and his fist tightened. He couldn’t have been- was Tommy too late? Y/n promised herself to him, why was Henry saying, or rather hinting, that they were an item? Had she forgotten about him? Had she lost hope?

“What’s going on? Between you two? Are you childhood friend’s or somethin’?”

“Actually, we’re lovers. Engaged, to be married in three months time. Why else would I go to see her in France? I had to ‘confess my undying love’ one way or another.”

Arthur, being the eldest of four, knew when someone was talking just to piss another person off, and this was definitely one of those times. Whether what he said was true or not, he was running his mouth to spite Tommy. “Okay, then wh-”

A door creaked open, causing Arthur to stop in the middle of his sentence, all four men going silent and waiting for the cause of the nose to reveal itself. Soft padded thumps sounded in the hall, stopping next to the entrance of the living room door, the door pushed open to reveal a woman with a blanket draped over the parts of her body that weren’t covered by her night-gown.

“Henry? You have guests?”

Tommy’s eyes shifted from the woman to Henry. He noticed how he tensed up and was quick to dismiss her. “Go, I’ll uh- I’ll be there in a moment.” He turned back to the ashtray next to him, putting out the cigarette. Henry waited a couple seconds before facing her again, “I said go. Get. Out. Now.”

She flinched slightly and backed up like she was the prey to his predator. Tommy swore he could see the fear flash through her eyes. She looked familiar...

The female still hadn’t left the room, cowering even farther into the corner, if that was possible, when Henry jumped up from his seat. “I said get in the fucking room!”

Arthur jumped up from the couch. “Hey! You don’t fuckin’ yell at her like that! I don’t give a fuck if she’s a relative, some woman you’re cheating on Y/n/n with, or really who she is at all. Don’t fucking yell at her!”

Tommy looked at her again, his eyes following hers as they widened with fear and shock. “You don’t get to tell me what to fucking do in my fucking house, got that, Peaky Blinder?”

“Henry-” Her hand reached out his arm in attempt to calm him, the attempt working to no avail as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer to him despite her small whimpers; “Henry, stop- you-you’re hurting me-”

“No! I’ve had enough from you too!” He pushed her to the ground. Probably one of his biggest mistakes, action wise, to commit in front of the Shelby boys. The blanket fell off her body, making the hidden marks and bruises visible to everyone in the room.

Her identity clicked into place. Tommy knew exactly who she was. “What the fuck have you done to her?!” He stomped over to Henry, connecting his fist with his jaw before he could respond. “You bastard!”

Henry spat out blood, coming back up with a punch of his own that hardly affected Tom. “Get the fuck out of my house.” He stepped in front of Y/n, blocking her from Tommy’s sight. “Now!”

As much as Tommy wanted to charge at Henry, tackle him to the ground and beat him until he was six feet under, he knew it wasn’t the time. John tugged on his arm, nodding towards the door.

“Let Y/n come with us-”

“No. You’ll stay the fuck away from my fiancé!”

Henry pulled a gun from the side of his pants, pointing it at the men as Tommy repeated himself. “Let-”

“I said no! Get out of my house before I blow your bloody brains out!”

Tommy ignored Henry’s rage, walking to the door with one last look in Y/n’s direction, “We’ll be back for you Y/n/n, I promise.”

“Tommy!? No, he’ll kill y-” the rest of her sentence was muffled, a hand covering her mouth, succeeding at blocking her words but failing to block out her loud cries accompanied by tears.

Tears that matched the ones falling from Tommy’s ocean eyes as he tried his hardest not to look behind him, in fear that he’d never be able to bring himself to leave.

. . .

Not even a full month had passed, and Tommy stayed true to both promises. He broke into Bennett’s house after learning his schedule. Y/n was forced to stay home and only leave the house with him, likely thanks to Tommy, but it was still a problem, especially if it was already a thing.

Why would she marry him? Why would she accept? Tommy wondered why Y/n was committing to that toxic relationship. The bruises on her once clear and stunning skin were burned into his brain like the war.

This was the war.

His war.

And he was going to win it again.

He quietly walked through the halls, inspecting each room with his gun in hand. Where cold she be? If there was ever a time in Tommy’s life when he prayed so hard he was about to cry, he was 100% sure this was that time.

A small creak came from under his foot, followed by a feminine sounding squeal. Rushed footsteps were heard from a door on his right, disappearing into silence. That silence was sliced with a sharp squeak of a bed, as if someone had jumped onto it or tried to push their way under it.

“Y/n/n?”

In the room, Y/n hid under Henry and her, unwillingly, shared bed. Her breath matched her heartbeat, uneven and faster than the horse races. Her nickname was spoken from a familiar voice, coming from the other side of the door. The nickname was never spoken again after the war. Henry disliked it and refused to call her by it, as well as told everyone they knew that she hated it.

The door handle twisted a couple times before the door pulled open. “Tommy? You came back?” He nodded. “I- Henry’s gonna murder you, ya know that?”

“...Why?”

“Pardon?”

Thomas looked away, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers. “Why do you stay with him?”

“Tom...I don’t really have much of a choice. He’d hurt me if I left and it’d hurt my mum if I left. Either way, I can’t get out of this.” Tommy looked back to her, his eyes bulging. “You have to leave. He could be ba- mmpf!”

Tommy’s hands cupped her cheeks, making sure to be gentle with her weakened body. She didn’t finish her sentence or argue, instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

After they broke the kiss, Tommy pulled Y/n into his chest. “I thought I’d lost you forever.”

“I thought that too...” Y/n drawled, tears threatening to spill.

Tommy wiped away the watery threats and smiled lovingly at her, “run away with me.”

“What?”

“Right now. Let’s go back to Birmingham, you can live with my family and I, we can break the news to your mother whenever you’d like.”

“Tommy...” She thought for a few seconds, Tommy’s smile broke into a frown, his nerves mixing with anticipation. Y/n looked back up to meet his eyes, finally breaking on a decision. “Is there anything I need to grab before we go?”

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