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dreamescapeswriting · 2 years

Text

Little Gremlins ~ KNJ [Request]

⤜WORD COUNT: 2K

⤜PAIRING: Dad!Namjoon x Fem!Reader

⤜GENRE: Fluffy, dad namjoon looking after his twins alone for the first time, twins, reader going out for the first time, coming home to a quiet home, namjoon caring for his twin boys while letting his wife go out for a whole, wholesome, fluffy

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - February 2022

MASTERLIST

The thought of leaving Namjoon alone with your twin boys was starting to worry you a little. Not because Namjoon wasn't a good dad because he was a fantastic father but...He'd never actually been alone with either of the boys for more than an hour at the most. They were four years old which meant they were full of movement and tons of energy. The only reason Namjoon hadn't been with them alone before now was that the members were with him, offering their help with the twins. But tonight Namjoon would be alone with the twins for hours and hours since you had no idea what time you would be getting home.

"Have you got everything ready? You know what they're like..." The two of them had just turned four and were beginning to get into that stage of making a mess. Not to mention running up and down the stairs and being as loud as humanly possible.

"Positive," He promised as he glanced over in the direction of the living room. There waiting for the twins were snacks as well as some toys Namjoon was convinced they were going to want to play with. Jae and San were at that age where they would want to play with everything and all at once.

One second they would be playing with their pretend toolkit and the next they would be colouring...Which would eventually lead to drawing on the walls if you and Namjoon weren't paying close enough attention to them. The twins knew what was right from wrong but sometimes they did what was wrong no matter what. They were children after all.

"Okay...Good luck and if you need me-" You tried to speak but Namjoon cut you off with a giant smile on his face.

"Call you and get you to come back." He repeated what you had been telling him all day long and you whined a little. All you wanted was to make sure Namjoon was comfortable with this. Tonight you were going out on a bachelorette party for a friend of yours, it had taken forever for your best friend to convince you to go with her. It wasn't as if you didn't want to but you were a mother, most of your time was dedicated to caring for the twins or spending time with them.

"Joon..." You said slowly as you began to debate cancelling at the last second. Going out drinking all night wasn't your idea of fun anymore. Your idea of fun was staying home with your husband and children to create memories. Who knew if they were going to grow and hate you for going out sometimes? It was the little things that made you overthink sometimes.

"Baby, I promise that tonight is going to go fine. You're going to have fun and come home to a quiet home." He smiled as he heard the twins coming down the stairs to say goodbye to them. You'd both sent them upstairs to get into their PJ's for the night.

"Mama!" Jae screamed as he began running into your arms, laughing as you picked him up and span him around on the spot. Jae was the eldest of your boys and had the strongest bond with you while San had a stronger bond with Namjoon.

"You're going to be good, right?" You questioned, raising your eyebrow at Jae as you slowly moved him to sit on the side of your hip glancing over at San who was looking up at you.

"Umma pretty," He chuckled running and holding onto your leg as you let out a soft giggle. Both of the boys holding onto you so tightly you weren't sure that you were going to want to let them go.

As if reading your mind Namjoon took San from around your legs and took Jae from your arms,

"Go before you end up staying here all night long." He laughed kissing your lips softly as you whined a little. You didn't want to leave anymore, the mum side of you yearned to stay here and be with your family but Namjoon was practically pushing you out of the door.

"Everything will be fine, I know how to look after our kids." He promised as you nodded at him, the taxi was already impatiently waiting for you at the end of your driveway so you knew that it was time for you to go.

"Just text me...I want to see if you're doing well." Namjoon promised once again before shutting the door on you, locking it and taking the twins into the living room.

They had at least an hour before either of them had to start getting ready for bed and Namjoon was going to make sure that they were tired enough for that. Jae had taken to sleeping for an hour or two at the most before waking up and sneaking down the stairs to play with his toys. Luckily you and Namjoon had invested in baby-gates so that he couldn't try it anymore, the last thing you wanted was for him to fall in the dark. Not to mention a very tired son for his day at school.

"What do you want to do tonight?" Namjoon asked as the twins began to walk into the living room, looking at the selection of things Namjoon had left out for them. New colouring books, their building blocks were in the corner and then there were the toy castles each of the boys owned.

"Colour." San chuckled as he plopped himself down onto the pillow in front of the coffee table, his little eyes widening at the pens that were so close to him.

"Nuh-uh, those are for daddy." Namjoon chuckled as San's small hands began to reach out for the pens, Namjoon lifted them up and moved them out of his reach.

"What happened the last time you had pens?" He questioned as San began to pout out his bottom lip, looking at the wall where there was fresh paint over a drawing he had done.

"I got into trouble." He mumbled reaching his hands out for the pencils instead as he began to look through the books that were laid out for him.

"I wanna play castles!" Jae yelled as he picked up the small knight toy and horse, running it around the room as he made horses noises. It was going to be the existed job in the world.

Once the twins were tired out Namjoon would put them into bed before coming down and making sure the house was tidy for you when you finally arrived home.

Or so he had thought.

The fact was, the twins didn't get tired of running around and playing games. They were so full of energy that the more they used the hyper they got, running around the house even when Namjoon told them that it was past their bedtime.

"Hey, no. It's time for bed." Namjoon cried out as Jae began jumping up and down on the sofa holding his horse as he was pretending that it was flying high up in the sky.

"FLY HORSEY FLY!" He screamed in a high pitched voice, giggling as Namjoon tried to swoop him up into his arms but Jae was faster than Namjoon so he rushed off the sofa. Going to hide in the kitchen and under the table thinking that his father wouldn't be able to catch him under there.

This had been going on for three hours, it was already 11 at night which meant you were probably wondering why Namjoon hadn't texted you. All he had sent you was a reassuring message that everything was going fine. That was two hours ago before the madness had descended over the twins.

"Jae, come on. Don't you want to set an example for your younger brother?" Although San was only a couple of minutes younger Namjoon still tried to play into the older brother role but Jae stared at him.

"I want umma." He whined finally dropping the toy onto the floor, tears beginning to form in his eyes as Namjoon panicked. This was what he had been dreading all night long.

If Jae was going to start crying then San would start, it was as if they were connected through their emotions and the last thing Namjoon needed right now were two crying kids.

"Hey, hey, she'll be back soon...Come on." He whispered as he pulled Jae out from under the table, sitting him down on his lap as he began to rock him a little. It was clear that Jae was tired and he seemed to finally realise it as he held onto Namjoon's arm tightly.

"Let's get you to sleep, mummy will be here when you wake up.." This time Jae didn't fight it, he nodded his head as he sniffled a little. The second San saw what was happening he began to follow Namjoon and his brother up to bed.

Walking into the quiet house you smiled a little to learn that the reason Namjoon hadn't replied was that he was probably asleep. All of the lights were off downstairs and when you peered into the living room to check on everything it was spotless. After Namjoon had put the twins down he'd rushed to clean everything up, going back up to the twins when Jae started yelling for him that there was a monster under the beds.

You could hardly believe Namjoon had managed to keep everything in order, there were times when you even struggled. Getting the twins to sleep on time was the worst part of your day.

"Joonie?" You whispered as you walked into the nursery, giggling a little when you spotted your husband asleep with his head resting on San's bed while his body slumped against the floor.

"Umma?" Jae whined as you kisses the top of his head, looking at you and smiling.

"Were you good for Appa?" You questioned, carefully pushing some of the hair out of his face as he nodded tiredly. His eyes barely were able to stay open as he drifted off back to sleep. This time you carefully made your way over to San, kissing the top of his head while looking at your husband.

Instantly you held back a laugh at the sight of him. San must have managed to get a hold of some kind of pen since Namjoon currently had a moustache drawn on his face as well as two circles which you assumed were supposed to be glasses around his eyes.

"Joonie." You shook him a little, laughing to yourself as he slowly got up from the floor without a word and began leaving the room with you.

"They're like gremlins, you cant get them wet, you can't let them eat after a certain time or they go insane," Namjoon whined as you continued to try and scrub the faint markings of the pen from his face. Most of the black ink had been removed but there were still faint remains left behind which Namjoon hated. You were sitting on the counter in your en-suite bathroom while Namjoon stood between your legs, your hands holding his face tightly as you tried to prevent him from moving away.

"They're your kids! Stop being mean." You hissed at him, using your makeup remover to see if they would remove the pen but it wasn't going to budge. Not for a while at least.

"Did you have a nice night?" He questioned as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, nodding as you remembered all of the fun you had been having.

"It was great, how was your night?" You whispered pressing a deep kiss against your husband's lips, the alcohol from earlier in the night still in your system making you crave his attention all the more

"Fun, we had fun...Until Jae began jumping on the sofa." He laughed wrapping his arms around your waist as you bit down on your lip. Thoughts washed over you as you debated asking Namjoon something you had been dying to for a while now.

"Let's make another one?" You suggested as Namjoon stared at you, smiling as he shook his head.

"Not yet...But we can practice." He chuckled deeply lifting you from the counter as he began to take you into the bedroom, chuckling loudly as you let out a squeal of excitement.

⤜ MASTERLIST

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @sw33tnight @taestannie @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk @taeechwitaa @justbangtanthingz @stillwithlix @kookiekuu @lolalee24 @hopeworldd-2 @totallynoanalien @yubinism @etherealinowrites @heyjiminnie @aerastus

#bts #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts imagines #kim namjoon #namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #namjoon imagines #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon imagine #kim namjoon imagines

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Hi, I hope you’re having a spectacular day!! I was wondering if you could maybe do one of Remus and Sirius just out on a date in town being all in love and like people on the street take pics of them being adorable and post it on social media and its just all these random fans post’s like captioned

“THEY’RE SO IN LOVE”

“I wish someone looked at me like that”

Like they are absolutely worshiping how in love they are and sirius and remus see one pop up on their insta feed or something?

I don’t know I hope you get what I’m saying, if not thats okay!❤️

Did someone call for sickly-sweet Coops fluff? SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“Baby, look at this.”

Sirius raised his head and shifted around under Remus’ arm until he could snuggle against his shoulder to get a better view of the screen. “Quoi?”

“Someone took a picture of us at the park.” Remus pressed an absent kiss to his forehead and tilted his phone down so Sirius could squint at it in the low light.

I’M IN TEARS, the caption read. ACTUAL TEARS. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE BEST CAPTAIN IN THE LEAGUE AND HIS CUTE-ASS BF. It had received thousands of likes in mere hours. Sirius pouted slightly. “You’re not my boyfriend, you’re my fiancé.”

“That’s the part you’re focused on?” Remus laughed. “Come on, we’re adorable!”

For a basic phone camera, the picture quality was surprisingly good. It caught Sirius mid-motion, his legs extended and gloved hands gripping the chains on either side of swing seat; his cheeks were pink from the cold, but his face was alight with laughter as he turned to look over his shoulder. Behind him, Remus’ arms were still out from pushing him, and his beanie was almost in his eyes. Sirius hummed and cuddled closer. “We are.”

“These comments are so nice,” Remus murmured, tapping away from the picture to read.

What kind of love is this and where can I get it, said one.

I’ll have what they’re having please and thanks, read another.

Get yourself someone who still pushes you on the swingset at age 26.

Okay but these two are the LITERAL DEFINITION of love.

Soulmates bitches!!! They’re fucking soulmates!!

Cap’s little smile is killing me. I’m in physical pain. Sir please control your cuteness.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAP I HOPE U ENJOYED THE SWINGS

Seven BILLION people on earth and I still don’t have a Remus. Smh.

They’re so happy wtf!! That’s happiness!! Right there!!

Do you guys think I can get an extension on my homework if my heart literally explodes from joy

“I want an extension on my homework,” Sirius muttered into the soft fabric of Remus’ sleep shirt.

Remus glanced down at him, pausing his scrolling. “You don’t have homework.”

With a groan, Sirius buried his face in Remus chest and blew out a slow breath. “I don’t want to look over tape tonight. I want to stay right here.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm. The world is cold and hard but your belly is soft and warm, so I’m not moving.”

“Okay, baby,” Remus said with a laugh, stroking a hand through the hair at the back of his head. “People think you look really cute with your new beanie.”

“You’re still looking through comments?”

“Maybe I just like seeing people appreciate how wonderful, and fantastic, and handsome, and adorable you are,” Remus teased, dropping a kiss to his ear for each adjective. Sirius made a grumpy sound when his abdomen tensed and Remus leaned back again with a smile in his voice. “Barnacle.”

“Perhaps.”

“Did you have a good birthday?”

Sirius sighed through his nose, letting the tension flood from his muscles and leave him a puddle of goo stuck to his fiancé’s torso. Remus had made the worst attempts at croissants Sirius had ever seen for breakfast, but the powdered sugar coating his nose and cheeks had been far too much fun to kiss away; they had gone out to the aquarium before hitting the park, where they spent endless hours letting the cold November air whip their faces on the swingsets and the frozen pond. Dumo had hosted his birthday party as he always did—Celeste’s cake tasted like pure heaven, and five different children decided to use him as a jungle gym.

And now they were home, curled up in bed while complete strangers took to the internet to wish him a happy birthday mere months after the same platform had been his most hated place. He took his phone off the nightstand and quickly found the post. Thank you for the birthday wishes, he typed. That is a wonderful picture.

“Le meilleur,” Sirius said, tilting his face up for a soft kiss as he put his phone away again. There were much more important things to focus on. “The best.”

#sirius black #remus lupin #coops #sweater weather #vaincre #birthday #cuddles #picture #swingsets #social media #comments

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hyuckssunchip · 3 years

Text

Hasty Encounters, Hasty Decisions

Pairings: Yuta x Reader, ft. nct 127

Words: 10K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), drinking, slight smut, insinuation of sex

Summary:

Y/N and Yuta meet for the first time and learn quickly of not only their attractions, but also their many more differences. Painful words and revelations leave a deep ridge between the two of them, that is until someone makes a shocking confession. Will they continue to make hasty decisions, or will they learn to forgive and forget?

Yuna was the exact opposite of you. She was gorgeous, outgoing and such a party person. You’d rather chill at home and binge your favorite drama for the billionth time, and that’s exactly how you planned to spend this weekend, however, Yuna had different plans.

“Come on, this is the last one of the semester! The NCT frat house always has legendary end of the semester parties. Besides you haven’t been to one yet, you need to broaden your horizons.” She kept jabbing your side, as if that was a good tactic to make you agree to her idea.

“No, I already set up my computer for six straight episodes of Penthouse, it’s too late now.” You gave her a triumphant grin, as if that were enough to get Yuna off your case.

“Are you serious right now?” She rolled her eyes at you, “This is ridiculous, I get that the actors are hot and all, but these are the hot guys in real life! Stop pining over some made up character and get it on with a real guy!”

“Who’s getting it on with a real guy?”

“Mark, Yuna keeps trying to take away my drama time, she’s trying to force me to go to a frat party.” You whined to him. Surely he would take your side, he’s a homebody just like yourself.

“The NCT frat party? I heard those are awesome. Why don’t you want to go?”

Sike.

“Ugh, I can’t believe you Mark, you’re supposed to take my side unconditionally.”

“Right… Yuna why do you want her to go so badly?”

“Mark, don’t you want to go to the party? They’re even better than what people say.”

“Really?”

“Mark!” You tugged at his shirt.

“What? I’ve always wanted to go. You know you should really get out there more. I think Yuna’s right on this one.”

“See?” Yuna gave you a smug look.

“Mark, you’re not helping.”

He swung his arm over your shoulder and pulled you closer, “Maybe you should go to this one, I think it’ll be fun.”

“You’re only saying that cause you want to go.”

“Is it working?” He grinned at you before you shrugged his arm off your shoulder.

“No. I already told you, I’ve got a busy weekend up ahead.”

“Yeah of bingeing dramas.” Yuna put her hands on her hips in protest.

Mark tilts his head at you, “How about this? If you go this weekend, I promise that I will help you set up that editing software on your computer that you’ve been wanting.”

“Deal.” There was no hesitation. You’ve been dying for him to help you for months but he never got around to it.

“Damn, that was easy.” Yuna grinned, “I’ve got tons of stuff you can borrow for tomorrow night!”

“What’s wrong with my stuff?” You frowned.

“Umm… have you seen your closet?” There was a snicker from beside you, but it was quickly cut off when you elbowed him in the side.

“I agree with Yuna on this one too.” Mark said, rubbing his side where you had just jabbed him. “Your clothes just aren’t suitable for a frat party.”

“And how would you know?” You mocked him, knowing he’d never been to one before.

“I’ve seen many movies, thank you very much.”

“Not the same Mark, but regardless you both are coming with me.” Yuna spoke up, “My class is gonna start in fifteen and it’s across campus so I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you later. Don’t think you can ditch this one!”

She ran off in the other direction before there was room for response.

“She’s something else, isn’t she?” Mark chuckled, throwing his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, ever since she and Johnny broke up, it’s like she’s going there to make sure he sees that she’s doing fine. To be honest, I’m a little worried about her.”

“Everyone goes through different ways of mourning y’know? That’s just Yuna.” He shrugged, kicking the stone in front of him.

You dropped it, feeling the mellow mood.

“Well, I should head to class then, I’ll see you at lunch yeah?” You nodded in response and with that he left.

“Sure.” Your eyes followed his back as he continued kicking stones out of his way.

Beep Beep!

“Are you sure this isn’t too short? I’m pretty sure you can see all of my ass.”

“Y/N, that’s the point.” You shot her a look. “Besides you’ll be so drunk you’ll feel fantastic either way. You look hot.” She flashed you a smile and grabbed your arm.

“Now come on! Mark’s waiting.”

You groaned, dragging your feet in resistance. The couch looked so comfy right now.

Beep Beep!

“Yeah we get it Mark!” Yuna yelled, “Come on.”

You were pushed into the passenger seat and she slammed the door on you, sliding into the back right after.

Yuna leaned forward resting her arms on the both of the seats in front of her. “Ready?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning your head against the window. You glanced at Mark, who was staring at the rear view mirror. You smiled at his face.

“Wow.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head and glancing at you. “You look great. You guys look great.”

You sent him a small smile, but went back to looking out the window.

“Of course we do, we spent hours on this.” Yuna scoffed.

“Right.” With one last glance in the mirror at Yuna, he started the car and headed to the address.

“How long are we staying?” You asked, starting to get nervous.

“How ever long we want to. You know you could even stay the night.” She wiggled her eyebrows at you, but in vain.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Right. Just make sure you text me to let me know if you’re going home with someone.” She laughed, “That goes for all of us, I don’t want to be stranded without a ride home Mark.”

Mark blushed and shook his head, not really replying.

There was a comfortable silence throughout the ride and you hadn’t noticed that you had already arrived until the echoing sound of music hit your ears.

“Alright! Are we ready!?” Suddenly you had a headache, and Yuna was not helping.

You were unceremoniously dragged out of the car while Mark, slowly clambored out of his side.

“Let’s go already.”

“You know I can walk on my own right?”

“I know, but you’re a flight risk.” She gripped my arm tighter and pulled you to the front of the frat, skipping the large line that seemed to wrap around the street.

“Yuna! Pleasure to see you again!” And with that you were let in.

It felt as though you were entering a whole new world when you walked through that door. You saw many familiar faces, and many unfamiliar.

“How about we start off with drinks?” She hooked her arms into both yours and Mark’s and dragged you to the makeshift bar. You held eye contact with Mark before letting out a sheepish grin.

If there’s gonna be lots of alcohol involved, how bad could it be?

“Yuna! I’ve got special mixes for you, unless you’re here for the hard stuff. But you know how good my cocktails are. So what are we starting off with?” The man with silver brown hair at the table shouted over the music.

“Taeil!” Yuna smiled, giving him a small hug, leaving you and Mark feeling empty and vulnerable. “I’ll take you up on your mix, I know how many shots you can get into a cocktail. These are my friends, Y/N and Mark. Can you show them a bit of your magic?”

There was a friendly laugh as the man, Taeil, shot you both a smile. “Of course! Is this your first time here?” He asked whilst pouring his concoction.

You nodded silently, looking at Yuna for help, but she wasn’t paying any attention.

“Thought so, I would definitely remember someone like you.” He gave you a wink, handing the first one to you.

You immediately sipped it, not knowing how to answer his comment, evident in your blushing face.

“Oh my god. This is amazing.” You looked up at him, actually confused at how you couldn’t taste the alcohol, seeing as you saw just how much he poured into that drink.

“That’s Taeil for you, he knows how to get everyone the most fucked up.” She grinned at him, taking both drinks from him and handing one to Mark, keeping the other for herself.

He grinned, “Of course, come back when you’re done, I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

“You’ll be seeing plenty of me.” She sang back while dragging the two of you off again. She pulled you to a crowd of yelling people, and as curious as you were, you’d much rather sit on the couch and sip your drink.

“Okay but actually what’s in this?” Mark asked, he sounded as amazed as you felt and you laughed at his expression.

“I don’t know, but it’s amazing right?” You took another sip, turning your attention to the loud cheers from the people around you.

Some unfortunate frat boy was doing a keg stand, held up by Johnny. “Jungwoo! Man, you good? That was a shit ton this time.”

The boy with fluffy brown haired grinned toothily, “I don’t know man, I’m feeling pretty good right now.”

“Alright, you go have fun then.” Johnny laughed, shoving the keg under a table. “Beer pong anyone?”

You rolled your eyes. Johnny and Yuna had dated for a short time earlier this year, but you never really liked Johnny. I mean in general he was a fun guy, everyone liked him, it was hard for you not to. But as a boyfriend? With Yuna? Nope. You saw what she went through and that wasn’t healthy. It’s not like you hated him, in fact you and Johnny had plenty of fun conversations, but he was too out there for you.

You sighed, turning away from the commotion of guys trying to earn the chance to play against Johnny.

“Hey where are you going?” Yuna asked, still staring at the table. You pointed to your now empty drink, “I’m gonna get more!” You yelled back.

She loosened her grip nodding, but you were sure she stopped listening.

“You want me to go with you?” Mark asked, but you could tell he wanted to stay with Yuna and watch.

“No I’m fine. I’ll be back soon, I’ll probably get a drink and then some fresh air. I promise.” He nodded, frowning at you. At least he cared enough to look worried.

You headed back to the familiar table, “Back so soon?”

“Yeah, I don’t even remember drinking all of it.” You laughed, “That probably means it’s working right?”

He chuckled, “It works wonders. So what do you want this time? Something strong or sweet or just something that’ll knock you out?”

You giggled at the offer, “You know, as tempting as that last one is, I think I’ll just go with sweet. Make it so I can’t taste it.”

“Right, coming right up.”

There was another obnoxious cheer. “Yuta! Yuta! Yuta!”

“What are they up to? Beer pong?” He asked, back facing the crowd.

“Yeah.”

“Go figures, that’s the only game Yuta slaughters Johnny in.” He laughed, shaking his head.

“Hey can I get something?” The keg boy from earlier stumbled up to you, obviously having trouble standing still.

“Jungwoo, man what’s up?” Taeil chuckled, handing you your drink as he faced the boy.

“I feel great.” The grin was so endearing that you felt the need to smile with him.

“I’m sure you do buddy. You wanted a drink right?” Taeil reached down for a bottle of Vodka from under the table. You frowned, looking at the half full bottle still on the counter.

“Yeah,” The boy giggled, turning to face you. “Hi. I’m Jungwoo. You’re kinda hot.”

You blushed, sipping your drink. You shouldn’t have been affected, this boy was drunk out of his mind, he probably thought that anything with two legs was hot.

“Here you go buddy. I made this one good, you probably can’t even taste it.” Taeil walked around the table to hand it to Jungwoo, standing next to you.

Jungwoo sipped it, nodding his head contently.

Taeil bent down and whispered in your ear, “ Don’t worry, it’s just pineapple juice mixed with water. He won’t even tell the difference.” He pulled back giving you a grin.

“Hey Jungwoo, why don’t you take this pretty lady outside for some fresh air, I think she could use it.” He winked at you and pointed his head in direction of the empty backyard.

“Of course I will.” He grinned, sticking his elbow out for you to grab, to which you complied and sent Taeil a little smile on your way out.

You sat on the stairs of the deck, Jungwoo landing next to you. He was having a little more difficulty trying to sit down without falling over.

“So what’s your name?”

“Y/N.” You answered softly, taking another sip. It looked like this one was going to be finished just as fast as the last. You shook your head worried about future you.

“Huh. Cute.” He took a long sip of his.

Again you blushed. You really needed to stop doing that every time some guy talks to you.

“You know you’re kinda cute to be hanging out here.” He commented mindlessly, chewing on a block of ice.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like you’re hot, but you seem like you’re too sweet y’know, to be hanging out at a frat house.”

You giggled, “It’s not like I wanted to come here. But you know I’m not having a bad time.”

Another sip.

“Yeah? That’s good. You a student here?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. I’m a Sophomore, what are you?” He was a bit blunt, but you didn’t mind, the alcohol was kicking in and you were beginning to think everything was funny. Honestly, sober you would’ve probably thought this whole situation was funny too.

“I’m a Junior.”

“Oh.”

He paused, thinking.

“You know I’m into older women.”

You laughed, throwing your head back. And he grinned at you, leaning back on his elbows, his drink long gone.

“Well that’s a shame, cause I’m into older men.” He pouted at you.

“People actually think I’m a lot older than I am.”

“I’m sure they do Jungwoo.”

He grinned at you.

“Hey, I kinda like the way my name sounds coming out of your mouth.”

Again, you couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter from erupting.

“Jungwoo, you’re a total flirt.” You had your hand covering your mouth as you tried to stop the giggles, swaying towards him.

He let out a little giggle. You lost your balance and fell towards him, leaning against his shoulder. Jungwoo could hardly manage to keep himself up let alone both your weights. The two of you tumbled flat on the deck, in giggling fits.

You sighed, finally calming yourself as you rolled over staring at the black sky, not a single star in sight.

You turned your head sharply and faced Jungwoo, his nose only and inch away from yours. You could tell he wasn’t paying much attention to you as he eyes were trained on your lips.

“You wanna dance?”

“Huh?”

“I wanna dance. Are you coming?” You attempted to push yourself up, struggling for a good minute.

Jungwoo followed, “Yeah, only if you help me get up, I think I might be a little drunk.” He laughed to himself.

“A little?” You had no right to tease him.

Pulling each other up, you guys somehow managed to make it back inside. As you stumbled inside together Mark happened to find you, holding on to your waist to stabilize you.

“Dude where were you? I’ve been looking all over for you.” You giggled, hanging on to both Mark and Jungwoo. He sniffed, smelling the alcohol on you.

“How much did you drink? You smell like a sketchy gas station.” His nose crinkled.

Jungwoo stumbled, pulling you and consequently Mark with him.

“Woah man, maybe you should sit down.” Mark reached his arm out to grab Jungwoo.

“But I’m gonna dance with Y/N.” He whined, but nevertheless letting Mark lead him to the couch.

“Next time yeah?”

Jungwoo nodded, gladly sinking into the cushion.

“Y/N how about you? You good?” Mark asked, leaning down to your eye level. You leaned your head against his chest and closed your eyes for a bit.

“Mmmmm.”

“Mmmmm? What’s that mean? You need something?” You shook your head, opting to wrap your arms around his waist.

The two of you swayed there for a bit, until you started to feel dizzy. “Water?”

“Huh?” His head was resting on top of yours. “You want water?” He pulled away, once again looking you in the eyes.

He nodded slowly at you, “Okay, I’ll get you water, you just stay right here okay?”

You leaned against the couch and smiled at him nodding in response.

He was only gone for a moment when you felt a presence invading your space. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You opened your eyes.

Woah.

He smiled at you, liking your reaction, “Woah?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

Your hand reached for the lock of blonde hair nearest to you. He chuckled, grabbing your hand, “I’m gonna go with no then.”

You looked up at him, wide eyed earning you a grin. “Wanna dance?”

There was nothing left to do but nod.

He grabbed your head, softly pulling you towards the space everyone was dancing on. From the corner of your eye, you could’ve sworn you saw Yuna making out with that guy from your Calculus class but you shook it off, there were more important things in front of you.

You were tugged against his chest, and the heat coming off his chest making you feel dizzy. After a few moments he turned you around, placing his hand under your chin, leaning your head back in the crevice of his neck. You closed your eyes. His hands once softly gripping your waist dug into your hips, dragging you closer if that was possible. As your bodies grinded against each other, you felt his lips make contact with your exposed neck. You gasped, stretching your neck more in order to give him as much access as you could. Already you could feel the spots where hickies would be impossible to hide the next day, but you didn’t care.

Soon the kisses and licks turned into love bites and the grip on your waist grew firmer. It was becoming much easier to feel the growing eagerness of your partner. You rotated your hips, pushing back into him and he threw his head back groaning.

“Fuck, how about we take this upstairs?” He moaned into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You felt your stomach clench.

Somehow you made it upstairs, stumbling through frenzied kisses and already swollen lips. He pushed your backwards through a wooden door frame and immediately turned you around as he slammed the door shut. He trapped you against the cool wood panel before attacking your neck once more, you let out a gasp, running his hands over his chest. His lips didn’t stop attacking until he found your sweet spot, you moaned, fingers tangling in his hair pulling slightly. He moaned into your neck before swearing and pushing you towards the bed.

Before you had even made it there he managed to rid you of your dress.

“Fuck, you know that shit really wasn’t leaving much for the imagination.” He quickly pulled his top off and pushed you down, crawling you top of you to leave a trail of kisses down your body.

“God, you’re fucking hot.” He groaned as his lips traced the black lace of your bra that Yuna forced you into.

You sunk further into the bed, his body crashing into yours, unbelievably close, as his fingers left blazing hot trails on your body.

You were wrapped around each other in the morning as you woke up. Your eyes opened slowly meeting the already awake eyes of the man next to you. For a moment you stared at each other in silence, relishing the peaceful moments before your hangover would kick in.

There was a loud clang from downstairs, causing you to flinch. The moment was over.

He pulled away from you harshly turning to throw on sweats and a shirt before moving past you to the bathroom. You wrapped yourself in the sheets sitting up and watched his back.

He hesitated for a moment before turning back to face you, “Don’t you know to leave before I wake up?” He gave you a one over while shaking his head at you. “It was just a fuck.”

You sat in silence, only jumping at the sound of the bathroom door slamming. Suddenly you felt sick. You scrambled out of bed to find the pieces of last night’s outfit scattered around the floor.

As soon as you were dressed and you cleaned yourself up as much as you could in the mirror, you ran towards the stairs. The smell of bacon wafted past you, making you wish you didn’t feel the nausea that was slowly rising.

“Y/N?” Taeil turned to see you rush past the kitchen. You stopped, backtracking to the doorway and gave him a tentative smile.

He looked at his watch and frowned, “You’re still here?”

“She was with Yuta.” A boy with black curly hair and a grey hoodie said, munching on his apple. He spun in his chair before stopping in your direction.

Yuta? Well shit, you didn’t even know his name until now.

“I’m surprised you’re still here. Yuta usually makes sure his girls leave before he wakes up. Honestly, most of them don’t even get to spend the night, he just kicks them out after his little escapade. I’m Doyoung by the way.” He flashed a little smile and tilted his head at you.

“Oh.” You blushed looking down at your feet. “I was just on my way out.”

He nodded, getting what you meant.

“Oh? Y/N?” You turned to find a familiar face.

“Jungwoo?” He smiled sheepishly at you, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry about last night. I don’t really remember much except us falling over each other. I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable did I?”

You blushed in response. “No, trust me I think it was mutual last night.” You laughed nervously, rubbing your arms, suddenly immensely aware of your less than modest outfit.

“Here!” Jungwoo stripped off his blue hoodie, leaving him in a plain white tee. He stuck his hand out, offering you the jacket, which you took gratefully. Even though you weren’t planning on staying long, it was freezing outside and you’d have to wait for a ride to come get you.

Mark! You totally forgot to tell him, you mentally slapped your forehead, knowing that he wasn’t going to let this go too easily.

The sweatshirt hung just above the length of your dress, not doing much for modesty down there, but it still felt more comfortable than before.

There was a slam and a girl came running down the stairs and towards the door, she gave you a knowing glance before exiting the building.

You sighed, you should probably get going now, Mark was going to throw a fit but you knew he'd show up anyways.

A hand came down on your shoulder, the man behind it chuckling as he watched the scene.

“You staying for breakfast Y/N?” He moved around you, grabbing a plate from Taeil and sitting down.

“Jaehyun.” You froze. You and Jaehyun were kind of friends. You had met through Yuna and Johnny. Actually you got along really well with him, you just lost contact after Johnny and Yuna broke up.

He flashed you a dimpled smile.

“No, I should get going.”

He nodded, already digging in, “You have a ride back?”

You paused. He noticed, looking up at you.

“Give me five minutes, let me just finish this and I’ll drop you off. Okay?”

You nodded and gave him a smile. Five minutes wouldn’t hurt right? Besides then you wouldn’t have to bug Mark so early.

It was 11 am, but he was probably still knocked out. A ride with Jaehyun wouldn’t kill you. He patted the seat next to you and you took up his offer.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?” Jungwoo set his plate down opposite of you.

You shook your head, “I don’t think I could keep it down.”

“Right.” He paused, looking at his own food with hesitation before shrugging and taking a bite.

Doyoung laughed, sinking into the seat next to the boy, “He’ll probably throw it up, but then he’ll say he made more room and eat again.”

Jungwoo shoved him whilst mid-bite before focusing on the task before him.

You looked at him, “How about you?” Referencing the lone apple in his hand.

“Oh I don’t drink enough to get sick in the mornings, I’m just less of a bacon dude, more of an apple guy.” He grinned, taking a bite.

“Johnny?” Taeil asked.

Jaehyun leaned back in his chair, grabbing the coffee Taeil just sat down.

“Sleeping, you know how he is the day after.”

Taeil nodded, “Yeah, I figured, but I thought he’d smell the bacon and be the first one down.” He laughed to himself grabbing another cup of coffee and raised it in your direction.

You shook your head smiling. Jaehyun threw his arm around the back of your chair and you looked at him. He was sipping the coffee and frowning ahead of him.

“What are you still doing here? Did I not make it clear that you should leave?” Your eyes widened at the sound of the voice you heard this morning.

“Yuta!” Taeil scolded, still setting down a plate for him. He shrugged in response taking the seat at the head of the table, farthest from you.

Jungwoo looked up intensely chewing and just as intensely glancing between the two of you.

You shrunk down in your seat, avoiding eye contact with him. Jaehyun glanced at you and set down his mug.

“You ready?” He asked, standing up with a stretch. You immediately followed his lead.

“Yeah.”

“Let me grab my keys real quick. You haven’t moved right?”

You nodded, watching Jaehyun jog up the stairs for a moment.

Taeil came and stood next to you, cup in hand, “You guys close?”

You shrugged, turning back to face him. “We used to be.”

He nodded silently, watching Jaehyun reappear.

“Got everything?” He asked, opening the door as you started towards the exit. You nodded and turned back to the kitchen one last time, sending a wave and a smile.

You didn’t miss Yuta’s scowl.

“Don’t mind Yuta, he’s just usually cranky the night after.” Jaehyun reassured you, but it didn’t do much good.

You looked out the window and nodded silently.

“Did you atleast enjoy last night?” He asked, attempting at rekindling the conversation.

“Yeah, I think I did. Honestly a lot of it was a blur.” You let out a strained laugh.

He joined you, “That’s what makes it so fun.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

There was a comfortable silence. The car jolted to a stop.

“This is you right?”

You had zoned out and missed half the ride back.

“Oh! Yeah, thanks for the ride. Mark would’ve killed me if I asked him to pick me up.”

He nodded, “No problem. I didn’t mind at all. We should hang out again, I’ve missed you.”

You grinned, “Same, we’ll definitely hang out, just let me know when and where.”

“Will do.”

You shivered as you stepped out of the car and slammed the door. You stepped back, wrapping your arms around yourself and gave a short wave as he left before making your way to your door.

You let yourself in quietly, taking off your heels and turning around only to let out a startled scream.

“Yuna?! What the hell are you doing?! You scared the shit out of me!”

Yuna was sitting on the couch staring at the front door, looking as if she had been waiting all night.

“Well? How was last night? I’m assuming things went well because here you are waltzing in at 11:30 in the morning.” She was taunting you.

You groaned, “At least let me shower first.”

She squealed, clapping her hands whilst bouncing on the couch.

You paused, “Last night… Mark…”

Her face scrunched up, “Yeah, he’s kind of pissed. We both forgot to tell him… but we’ll make it up to him. I was thinking we’d bring him lunch.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Wait?! Both forgot? Did you hook up with someone again?!”

She continued shaking her head with a bright smile and shoved you towards the bathroom. “Clean up first!”

She laughed at your protest but you eventually gave in.

“Maaarrrk. Come on, we said we’re sorry. I mean honestly we were both drunk out of our minds, how could we have even texted you?” Yuna pouted at him, something she always did to get her way with him.

He looked away, staring at the cupcakes you had brought as a peace offering.

“If it makes you feel any better I made a complete fool out of myself this morning.” You said, still twiddling your thumbs.

He cocked his head slightly, an indication that you had his attention.

“The guy I slept with totally threw me out.”

He frowned, looking at you, “Why on earth would that make me feel any better?”

You shrugged avoiding eye contact.

“Who was it?”

“What? Are you gonna beat him up?” Yuna asked, laughing as she stole a cupcake.

“Maybe.” He turned his attention to you, “So who?”

“Yuta.”

“Yuta? As NCT frat boy Yuta? Why would you sleep with him?” He asked, his voice increasing a decibel.

“Umm.. Have you seen him? He’s hot as hell.” Yuna said, licking the frosting off her fingers before giving him a look. “I’m glad she did. It’s about time she got some action.”

“How can you be glad she slept with him? He’s a total asshole! Plus he kicked her out this morning!” He asked, reaching for the coveted cupcake. She slapped his hand away, taking a bite.

“Okay, but everyone knows when you sleep with someone at a party, you don’t stay the night, or you at least don’t stay long enough for breakfast in the morning. No offense.” The last part directed at you, but you just continued to stare at the floor.

“Well, wouldn’t you know?” Mark spat out, for once losing his temper.

Yuna paused and gave him a look. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. It’s just that, just because you go sleeping around and know the ‘etiquette’ or whatever, doesn’t mean that someone like Y/N would know.” He turned around blocking himself off from her gaze.

“Whatever. I don’t need this.” She stood up grabbing her bag. “We came to apologize, I didn’t come to be attacked. You know I’m sorry I ditched you last night but I don’t need to be called a whore cause you’re still pissy about the whole thing.”

She slammed the door on the way out, glaring at nothing in particular.

Well. There goes your ride.

Mark sighed, slouching into the cushion of his couch.

“I didn’t call her a whore. At least I didn’t mean to. It’s just she was totally attacking you, and you did nothing wrong. Except maybe sleep with a dickwad.” He groaned, rubbing his hands on his face. “I would never kick you out like that.”

“I know.” You replied, leaning into his side. “I don’t think she’s actually that mad, she’s just struggling right now. You know how she’s been since they broke up.”

“I just think she’s so desensitized, that she doesn’t even know how to be treated right.”

“I know.” You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder.

The two of you sat in silence for a while.

They weren’t his frat brothers but you were sure he told them all about you and your mistake, judging by the way they were laughing at you.

“Screw them.” Yuna said, glaring at the group. “It’s not even that big of a deal, he should be honored he slept with you.”

You kept your head down, mentally cursing yourself for ever letting him get to you.

The semester had already ended and you had almost forgotten about the frat house and the embarrassment that followed, that is until Yuta and his friends sat themselves behind you in lecture today.

Yuna made a face at you, an attempt to brighten you up. A whole semester with them behind you? This was an actual nightmare.

“Where is Mark?” Yuna muttered checking her phone. “Look I’ve got to go or I’ll be late to my class but you’ll have Mark so don’t let them get to you alright?”

You nodded, playing with the strings of your sweatshirt. With one last glare Yuna exited the back of the lecture hall.

You felt a presence next you and you stiffened.

“This’ll be fun, don’t you think?” You groaned, of course he would have the nerve to sit next to you only as soon as Yuna leaves.

You chose to ignore him.

You didn’t have to look at him to tell that he was smirking, “Luck really was on my side-”

“That’s my seat.”

Both you and Yuta looked up and you sighed in relief seeing that it was Mark, “I don’t see a name on it.” Yuta cocked his head, the smirk still plastered over his face.

Mark just stared at him, not moving.

Eventually Yuta sighed, standing up and staring down at Mark, the height difference only enhancing the mood he was going for. “It’s a shame you’re no fun.” He moved to the seat behind yours and rested his feet on the back of your chair.

You grimaced as you felt the pressure, and rolled your eyes in annoyance. Mark sat down, turning to you.

“You good?” He asked, leaning in close to you.

Again, you nodded silently.

This was going to be a long semester.

“Are you still coming over to my place tonight?” Mark asked, packing his notebook in his bag.

Nodding, you replied, “Yeah, I still have clothes there right? I’ve got to run to the library and get some stuff first, then I’ll just come over.”

“Yeah, if not, you can just borrow something of mine.”

You nodded in agreement, watching as the last of his things were secured in his bag.

“Alright, I’m gonna head out, text me if you need anything.” He waved back at you and made his way out of the hall.

You felt Yuta lean his head forward inches away from yours. You flinched away, bending down to get your things.

“You have plans tonight?” You frowned at his question, or rather statement. He had obviously heard the conversation between you and Mark.

You chose to ignore him, one of your greater ideas.

“Umm.. There’s a party this weekend, if you wanna come.”

You struggled to hold back a snort. Was this his new way of tormenting you? Why on earth would you go to another one of his frat parties?

“It’s for Jaehyun’s birthday.”

You froze, hand half way in your backpack. After a moment you stood up, clearing your throat, attempting to move towards the exit only to find him blocking your way.

You peered behind him, his regular clique of friends long gone, you frowned.

“What?” You breathed out, tired of whatever mind game that he wanted to play.

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, the ever present scowl replaced by a timid look.

“I think it’d be nice of you to go. Cause you’re friends and all.” He shrugged half heartedly, like he was struggling to ask you to go.

He glanced at your scrunched face, confusion written all over it.

“It’s gonna be a small party, not like a huge thing. Just the boys and a few friends.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s gonna be really chill.”

“Right.”

You hesitated to ask for the date and time, but it was for Jaehyun’s birthday so you felt obligated.

You and Jaehyun had gotten closer over the last few months, a small joy in a hectic semester.

“It’s Friday, at seven. Don’t feel obligated to bring anything but yourself.” He sent you a small smile, one that sent an unsettling feeling through your stomach.

You nodded, skeptical of the situation. Your mind was racing, an internal struggle overwhelming you.

By the time you had focused back in, there was a stream of students passing by you, already entering for the next lecture, Yuta no where to be found.

You sighed, hiking your backpack up on your back and heading towards the library.

It was hard to concentrate on the task ahead of you, especially when all you had was thoughts of what was to come this weekend.

“Excuse me.” You flinched, nodding apolegitcally at the girl who reached for a book that you were blocking.

You shook your head, trying to remember what you had come here for. After a half and hour of racking your brain you gave up, opting to just go to Mark’s.

“So I didn’t find any of your clothes, but you’ve got your toothbrush here.” You weren’t focused on what Mark was saying, walking into his apartment in a daze.

“Y/N?” You turned to face him, eyes slightly more alert.

“What are you thinking about so hard?”

You sighed, flopping on to the couch and closed your eyes.

He sat next to you, and you felt his intense gaze over you.

You sat up suddenly, facing him. “What would you do if you had a friend who wasn’t really on good terms with a friend of a friend and you were invited to this friend’s kickback but it would be awkward to bring your other friend, but then it would be wrong if you didn’t tell this friend about the party, but it would also be bad to not go to the other friend’s party cause it’s his birthday?”

“What?”

You sighed, collecting your thoughts. “Jaehyun’s frat is having a party to celebrate his birthday and I was invited.”

“Okay... so?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“It’s supposed to be a small thing, like just the frat and a few friends.”

“Right? What’s the problem?”

“Mark, what do I tell Yuna? I can’t tell her that I’m going to a party cause she’ll want to come, but that would be weird because it’s a small thing, and you know,,, Johnny. I’m sure she’ll end up making a scene.”

Mark sighed, looking away from you. “Just don’t tell her, or do, and just say she can’t go. I don’t really care.”

He stood up making his way to the kitchen. You groaned. Mark and Yuna haven’t quite been the same since the incident after the party. You haven’t found them willingly enter the same room, and even if they were forced to, they refused to interact. You were often caught in the middle of they’re snide remarks regarding each other.

“I don’t really want to go alone though. I’m not close enough with any of the frat guys to hang out there.” You griped, hands fiddling with your sleeves again.

“I thought you were cool with them.”

“Yeah, we’re friendly enough, but it’s still awkward.”

There was a poignant pause.

“Mark?” You whined, hoping that he would catch the hint.

“No, I’m done with parties.” He held up a hand, waving it in refusal.

“But it’s going to be a small one, it’s not even a real party. Please?”

“Are you even allowed to bring anyone?”

You shrugged, “He didn’t say, but it doesn’t matter, they won’t make you leave. And if they do then I’ll just say hi to Jaehyun and then leave.”

He rubbed his hands over his eyes. “Who even invited you?”

“Yuta.” You whispered out.

“Yuta? Why would he invite you?” He frowned, deep in his own thoughts.

“He said it would be nice for Jaehyun. Plus I doubt he’s going to do anything, especially because it’s Jae’s birthday. You know as much as a dick he is to girls, he probably cares about his frat brothers.” You found yourself defending Yuta.

He shot you a look, before shaking his head.

“You owe me.”

You grinned, pumping your fists in victory.

“Yes! I owe you a thousand times.” You stood up, “Where my sweats?”

“You mean my sweats.” He just shook his head and pointed towards his room, “They’re on my chair.”

You slid past his door, grabbing hold of the sweats that had been designated as yours.

After changing a picture on his desk caught your eye. It was a photo of the three of you at the beach, a memory made last year during spring break. You smiled to yourself, eyes tracing over the bright smiles. Your eyes shook as they reached Mark’s profile, too busy staring at Yuna to focus on the lense of the camera.

You winced, recognizing the way that he looked at Yuna, your heart broke for him. It wasn’t the first time you noticed the way he watched her, but seeing it so definite made you hurt for him.

“Y/N? You coming? I’m gonna start the movie if you don’t hurry your ass up!” Mark shouted from the living room, and you tore yourself away, skidding back to the couch.

“Stop doing that, you’re gonna crash into something.” He laughed at you.

“What’s the point of having hardwood floors then?” You climbed over the back of the couch after dumping your clothes next to your bag.

“Who said you got to choose?” You grumbled to yourself.

“Me, cause you owe me a thousand favors now.” You smiled cheesily at him, hoping to ease his irritation with the situation you dragged him into.

“Right. Do you want anything to drink, eat, possibly a foot massage that would appease you?”

He shoved you upon hearing your teasing tone. “Don’t make me regret this.”

You laughed, turning to focus on the screen ahead of you.

You opted for something a bit more casual than what you wore the last time you entered the frat house, definitely a bit more modest.

The mood was totally different the moment that you passed the door.

“Y/N! You came!” You smiled at the familiar face.

“Of course I came, it’s Jae’s birthday.”

Jungwoo peered at Mark who stood next to you, taking in the house as if it was his first time seeing it.

“Who’s this?” He frowned, racking his brain and trying to connect face to name.

“Oh you probably don’t remember.” You laughed at the memory, “This is Mark, he kind of took care of you at the party we met at.”

His eyes flashed at sudden recognition.

“Oh! Right, you were the one that stole Y/N away from me! I never did get that dance.” He grinned cheekily at Mark’s flustered expression.

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on drinking that much this time.” He winked at you.

“That’s what you said last time.” A skinny boy with wide eyes interrupted him, throwing his arm around his shoulder.

The newcomer smiled at you, eyes turning into half moons. “I’m Taeyong, I don’t think we’ve met.”

“That’s cause you haven’t.” The familiar laid back tone answered before you a chance to.

“You were out of town the last time she was here.” Doyoung faced you, giving you a brief smile before turning back to Taeyong. “You know if you stuck around and chilled like everyone else then you would’ve known.”

You felt the tension between the two of them, glancing at Mark who had the same expression on his face.

“I’m here now, so what’s the problem?” The tone was less teasing than you expected, obviously things weren’t smooth between the two of them.

“It doesn’t matter, if you didn’t up and leav-”

“Her name’s Y/N.” Jungwoo interrupted, not caring that it wasn’t quite the right timing to introduce you.

The irritation washed off Taeyong’s face as he sent you a soft smile. “It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.” He winked at your nervous expression. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I think I need a drink.” After sending Doyoung a glare he found Taeil close by.

“Sorry about that.” Doyoung muttered embarrassed, but he didn’t seem too genuine about his apology.

You smiled back at him, another awkward glance at Mark.

“Well drinks anyone?” Jungwoo asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” You giggled at him.

He glared at you teasingly, “What are you trying to say?”

“Okay okay, here.” Taeil swept by shoving a handful of drinks in your direction.

“Well that was easy.” Jungwoo commented before moving to greet the next newcomer.

With everything happening so quickly you hadn’t noticed that Doyoung had also escaped.

“See. I told you it would be awkward, if you weren’t here I’d be standing alone in a corner.” You shoved Mark’s side, handing him your drink.

“What’s this?”

“I’m not drinking tonight. I don’t want to do anything stupid again, drink up.” He grinned at you.

“Well I guess this is payment enough.”

It was some time later that you found yourself laughing alongside Jaehyun when you realized that you hadn’t seen Mark it a while.

“I’m gonna go grab a water.” You excused yourself and set out to find him.

“You came.” You jumped at the sound of Yuta’s voice, uncomfortably close to you.

You spun around, facing him.

“You brought your little boyfriend though.” He was obviously drunk, more so than the last time. Or perhaps you were just more aware and now you could notice his tendencies.

“Right. Have you seen him?” You asked curtly, trying to focus on the task at hand.

“So he is your boyfriend?” The alcohol had definitely left him no control over his emotions as you frowned at the crestfallen look on his face.

“No, Yuta focus. Have you seen Mark?”

“I don’t like him.”

You rolled your eyes, starting to enjoy teasing him. “Why not?”

“He’s too touchy with you.”

You cocked your head to the side. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Only your boyfriend should touch you like that. You guys are like hugging and stuff.” He pouted at you, a new version of Yuta you had never imagined.

“You touched me.” You mumbled out, watching his reaction.

“Can I be your boyfriend?”

You stepped back, nervous for the first time. This version of Yuta made you uncomfortable. You were so used to the asshole that made snide comments and teased you. You knew it was just the alcohol talking but you felt restless upon seeing this new side of him.

Out of the corner of your eye you spotted your savior.

“Mark!” The boy spun around face bursting into a smile as he made his way over to you, slinging his arm over your shoulder.

“Y/N where’ve you been? I lost you.” His smile faded as he noticed your company. “What are you doing here?”

His tone had turned cold and he pulled you tighter against him, an action not going unnoticed by Yuta.

“I’m having a conversation. And you’re not her boyfriend.” Mark glared at him, not appreciating the tone.

“Okay?”

You cut in between their little stare down, moving to face Mark, “Hey, I already wished Jae a happy birthday and stuff, it’s getting kinda late. We should get going now if you’re ready to go.”

You motioned towards the door in case he could understand you.

He nodded, not really paying attention, something that you were expecting.

“Alright, let’s go say bye to Jae and then I’ll drive us home, okay?” You talked slowly, hoping that he would understand more easily.

You grabbed Mark’s hand, pulling him towards the patio, the last place you had seen Jaehyun.

“Oh.” You stopped and turned to face the boy staring at two of your hands. “Bye Yuta.”

His eyes whipped up to find yours, a small smile taking over his features. He lifted his hands and waved slightly, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to.

“What is wrong with him?” Mark muttered under his breath, face grimaced at the sight.

You sighed, resuming your journey to Jaehyun. “He’s drunk.”

You slammed the passenger door shut and slid into the driver’s seat, once more checking that all of Mark’s limbs were attached and in the car.

“That was fun.” He laughed, staring at nothing in particular.

You snorted at his reaction. “So I don’t owe you anything anymore?”

“I never said that.”

“Do you want me to stay over tonight?” You asked, taking a quick glance at him before regathering your attention on the road.

“Yeah.”

You drove in silence for a while, and peeked over at him. He was so silent you were sure that he had fallen asleep. But his eyes were open, hooded, but definitely open. He was staring out the window, watching the buildings flash past him.

“Do you think Yuna wants to come?”

You were startled by his sudden question.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Mark.”

“I know. But I kind of miss her.” He sounded so upset, and you began to get angry at Yuna.

“I know Mark. Things will get better though. She’s just being stubborn.”

He sighed, fogging up the window for a few seconds before it dissipated under the cold.

“Okay.”

You hesitated to continue.

“Hey Mark?”

He didn’t respond,

Your eyes found his sleeping figure slumped in the corner of the seat.

You let out a deep breath, one you didn’t realize you had been holding.

“How do you do it? Deal with her knowing that she’ll probably never love you back?” You asked no one in particular, listening to the silence that followed your harsh question.

You spent the last few miles of the ride with your mind involuntarily wandering back to Yuta. Now that you thought about it he had been acting weird since the day he invited you to the party.

It wasn’t that you missed the nagging or teasing that he constantly made you endure. But it made you uneasy, reminding you why he starting doing so in the first place.

You shook your head, bringing yourself back to the road as you pulled into Mark’s designated spot. The car rocked to a standstill.

“It’s because I love her that I can do it.”

You turned to face the seemingly asleep boy, mentally cursing yourself for letting him hear your thoughts.

“Yuna, don’t you think you’re being a little too harsh on him?”

She had just spent the last twenty minutes purposely avoiding Mark, stating that it would absolutely ruin her day to see him.

“He called me a slut, are you really taking his side?” Her tone had turned fierce as you expected.

“He didn’t call you a slut. Besides if it’s something you’re ashamed of, then don’t do it.” You muttered the last bit, trying to soften the tone.

She whipped her head at you. “What? So now you think I’m a slut too?”

“No, it’s just if you’re so upset with the way that people think of you, then why do you keep giving them reason to think that way?”

It was harsh, but you had finally given up on stubborn Yuna. It was time to finally hammer it into her head.

She was at a loss for words when you looked back at her. “I shouldn’t have to care about what other people think of me.”

You bit your lip, frustrated with the way she was thinking.

“Then why are you so mad at Mark? If you don’t care what other people think of you, why are you so mad?”

“Because it’s Mark. Of course I care what he thinks.”

You stared at her, mouth slightly open, confused with her statement. But it seemed like you weren’t the only one, her eyes widened, throwing her hand over her mouth.

“I mean, he shouldn’t have said that because he’s supposed to be someone I can count on to not think of me that way. I’m supposed to be able to trust that he knows me, and has my back no matter what, not that he’d stab me in the back like that.”

“He didn’t stab you in the back. And he does have your back, no matter what. You know he’s never said one bad thing about you during this time? He just keeps asking if you’re doing okay.”You paused, thinking about your next words, hesitating for a moment.

”You know I think it’s kind of embarrassing how much you’re bad mouthing him and avoiding him when all he does as make sure that you’re doing fine.” You glanced at her as she turned away from you, trying to hide the fact that she was furrowing her eyebrows.

“Don’t you think it’s been long enough? For both of you? Would it be that hard to forgive him?” You raised your eyebrows in hopes that you would no longer be the split messenger between the two.

There was a deep sigh from her side.

“I’ll talk to him later, just the two of us. I guess I owe him that much.” You smiled at her flushed face.

She grinned back, wrapping her arm in yours, “Now tell me about the party last weekend.”

You jolted your head to the side, wide eyed. “H-how did you...?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad. It’s not like I was invited. Besides it would’ve been weird right, for me to show up.” You smiled at her, thankful that she wasn’t upset.

“To be honest, it was fun. I missed hanging out with them.” She elbowed you in the side.

“Any one in particular you like hanging out with?” Wiggling her eyebrows, she sent a suggestive look your way.

You blushed, understanding her intentions. “No. They’re all fun.”

“Right. Did Yuta bother you much? I hope Mark didn’t leave you alone to be bugged by him.” She scrunched her nose, evidence that she was still annoyed by him.

“No. He didn’t bother me, he was pretty drunk.” You frowned, “He actually said something though that bugged me.”

“What?”

“I don’t know, he just kept talking about me having a boyfriend.” You paused, eyes shaking at what you were about to say. “He asked if he could be my boyfriend.”

Yuna made her scandalized face, teasing you as you cut in, attempting to save face for both yourself and Yuta.

“But he was really drunk, who knows if he even knew what he was saying.” You hurried out, nibbling at your bottom lip.

“Didn’t you say he had been acting weird around you lately? Like not teasing you weird, but like he was actually kind of nice to you?” You nodded thoughtfully.

“Yeah, he was actually the person who invited me to Jae’s party.”

“Really?” She asked, squinting in confusion. “That’s strange, I thought he would’ve been the last person to invite you.”

“Right?” You thought to yourself for a moment, “He wouldn’t do something would he?”

“No, I think he’s just gotten bored. Maybe he’s finally tired of teasing you.” You laughed at the thought.

“Sure, I’d die of happiness if that were true.” But there was a small part of you that you chose to ignore, that felt a little sad at the thought.

“Do you want one?” You raised your eyebrow at the scene in front of you.

“I didn’t poison it, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Yuta gave you a small smile. “Taeil baked them, they’re to die for.”

You frowned at the muffin he was showing you, but eventually took it.

He nodded his head once, indicating for you to try it.

As you bit into the soft texture of the muffin your eyes widened.

“I know. I’m not usually one for muffins, but I’ll never pass on one from Master Moon.”

You giggled at the title.

“No really, that’s what he calls him self, but I’m not one to argue.” A genuine smile bloomed over his face, the first time you had seen it.

Unknowingly you returned the smile, something about it making you feel better already.

He rubbed the back of his neck, an embarrassed smile, replacing the previous, “I’m sorry we got off on a bad foot.” He let out a big sigh, “I kind of let things get out of hand.”

You felt yourself closing off again, but realized that his words were genuine.

“I’m not gonna lie, the stuff you said and things you did hurt me. This class was hell because of you, I even avoided seeing Jaehyun because of you.”

You let out a sigh, and a heavy silence followed. You glanced at the worried expression on Yuta’s face, and you recognized the guilt.

There had been some point where your anger towards Yuta had faded. Perhaps it was the fact that he stopped bothering you, perhaps it was his confession, or perhaps it was the way that he started to look at you. You believed that there was something more to Yuta, and you wanted to get to know that side.

“But if you continue to bring me amazing snacks I’ll have no choice but to forgive you.” You laughed nervously, tearing anxiously at the empty wrapper.

“Then I’ll just have to keep bugging Master Moon.” He grinned, a reflection of yourself.

You felt your face heat up, blushing at his blatant flirting.

“Um.... I know I was like really drunk the other night. I’m not going to pretend I don’t remember pieces, because I do. And I want you to know that even though I was drunk I really meant what I said.” He glanced at you from the side, not brave enough to confront you.

“What do you mean?” You tried not to think of the way that he basically confessed to you, and you chose to ignore it.

“Uh... Do you... not remember?” He scratched his head, ruffling his hair into a more messy look.

“I’m not sure, you were saying a lot of things.” Biting your lip, you focused on the wrapper in your hand.

“Oh... I- uh...I like you.” You whipped your head to face Yuta, who was now avoiding eye contact.

“What?” It came out as a whisper, barely audible to him. You heart began beating faster, and you were worried that he would be able to hear it because it was so loud.

“I like you Y/N. Look, I know I have a pretty shitty way of showing it, but I promise that I’ll make up for it.”

You hated to leave him hanging, but you had no words. You wanted to give him some sort of reassurance, but the words were stuck in your throat.

“Will you go out with me? Or at least one date to show you I’m not a total asshole.” He wasn’t great at hiding the fact that he was nervous, and you giggled at the sight.

“Yeah. I guess one date couldn’t hurt right?” You smiled at him, boldly reaching for his hand.

He wrapped his hand around yours, pulling you close to his chest. you could hear the beating of his heart through his shirt, making you smile at the thought that you were the cause of this.

“I swear I’ll make it up to you. I’m done making stupid decisions.”

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bunnysuit-femboy · 3 years

Text

The Worst Wingman - Tiger’s Eye and Gold

(Chapter 2 / 3)

Jean x Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Previous Chapter

Warnings: Mentions of vomiting, Implied sex

Summary: Jean sucks at picking blind dates for you, but at least he’s trying. After one final attempt at finding love at the hands of Jean, he goes on a double date with you and the newest boy he’s thrown onto you. The boy is everything you never knew you needed, and Jean has to push down his growing feelings at the idea of you being happy without him.

Notes: I am not shitting on polpette di cavallo or the consumption of horse meat in general, I understand that it is a popular Italian dish and I was only mocking my ignorance towards the subject! (Plus, I thought it’d be funny to make a horse joke in a Jean x Reader)

Second Saturday

The night air wasn’t chilly, but you stayed by Jean’s side nonetheless. You pressed against his arm, using his body heat to keep yourself warm. And, Jean didn’t mind the close company - he actually liked it when you got close to him, it was the same reason he cuddled with you so often.

You and Jean stood outside of an unfamiliar restaurant, waiting for the last two people of the party to show up and to inform the hostess of their reservation. You normally hated double dates because the other couple always seemed to have more fun than you. But, you felt safe by Jean’s side, you knew he’d go as far as blatantly ignoring his date if it meant he got to have one conversation with you. Maybe that was selfish to think, but you didn’t mind, you’d probably never use him anyways - only keeping him as plan B in a worst case scenario.

But, you surprisingly had faith. Maybe - just maybe - this date will be your last one in a very long time. Maybe you would fall in love with this football player. Maybe you’d marry him and eventually start a family. Maybe you’d make sure to visit this same restaurant every anniversary - a physical monument of where your love had sprouted.

And then, as the years ticked by in your relationship, maybe you’d find yourselves growing sick of each other. Maybe you’d come home early from work and find him fucking his secretary over his desk in his home office. Maybe you’d stay with him, but only for the kids. Maybe - just maybe - you’d be able to ignore the whole affair just to pretend you love him for a few more years until your eventual death.

Oh God, love was exhausting - even to think about. And, it always seemed to end in pain, no matter how in love the couple seemed to be once upon a time.

It was hard to ignore the facts, and the inevitable ending to all things good. It was hard to ignore the over 50% of people who got divorced each year. And, it was hard to pretend you were more deserving of a lifelong fantastic marriage full of love and laughter just because-

“What are you thinking about?” Jean asked with a giggle.

You looked up at the boy, your eyebrows furrowed, “Huh?”

Jean smiled wide, “You look like you’re going to be sick.” He looked around quickly, taking in the sight of the other couples also waiting for a table inside. “Do you want to leave? We can go back to mine and forget this entire night was supposed to happen.”

“No,” You said quickly, “I want to meet him. You went through so much work to convince him to go on this date, why would I throw that away so easily?”

“Not really.” Jean frowned lightly as he looked past you, clearly reliving memories in his head, “I didn’t really do anything, actually.”

It was true, all Jean had to do was show the football player a picture of you and he was in. Jean had started the conversation by asking the football player’s schedule for the next weekend and if he was free for a date that Saturday. At first, the boy continuously refused any date, saying he needed the day to practice before the next game, but Jean showed the boy a picture instead of arguing with his words.

The football player fell completely silent, staring at Jean’s phone with widened eyes. It was hard to say no to a date with you - to put it simply, you were a goddess. The football player continued to stare at the picture of you, taken last Halloween when you and Jean had dressed as a witch and her black cat familiar; you being the witch and Jean being your cat. It was Jean’s favorite picture of you because you showed your candid smile as you laughed at one of Jean’s jokes, instead of your fake smile you saved for pictures.

The football player quickly agreed to the date after seeing the picture. He gave Jean his number, urging Jean to text him the time and place. He’d be there, the football player promised, he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

“Sure,” You said sarcastically, “I’m sure you had to promise him a month’s supply of-” You took a moment to remember what football players liked other than football- “Steroids.”

“Seriously?” Jean asked with a laugh, “Keep the steroids jokes to a minimum when he shows up, okay?” Jean furrowed his eyebrows. “Actually, don’t mention steroids at all when he gets here.”

You sighed, “If it’s any consolation, I was going to say protein powder.” You turned to Jean, slightly tilting your head. “Can I make protein powder jokes when he’s here?”

Jean frowned at you, “I guess-”

“And,” You added with a grin, “Can I make shoulder pad jokes?”

“I suppose-”

“And, can I make football field jokes? Or, is that too much as well?”

“Okay,” Jean said as he threw an arm around your shoulders, “I see what you’re doing.” Jean shoved your face into his chest which had always been his favorite way to shut you up. You inhaled the familiar scent of his clothes, and the unfamiliar scent of a new cologne he wore specifically for this date. “You’re such a smart ass.”

You pushed your head out from between his chest and arm, “You’re ruining my hair, you bastard!”

Jean laughed as he pulled you closer to him, “It still looks great, don’t worry about it.”

“Hey, Jean,” A new voice said from only a few feet away, “And-”

Jean pushed you from his body, allowing you to extend a single hand in the blonde boy’s direction, “Hi, it’s lovely to meet you.” You told the boy your name before he finally introduced himself.

The boy shook your hand with a strong grasp, “I’m Reiner-”

“And, I’m Pieck,” A black haired girl said as she poked her head out from behind Reiner’s broad back. The girl stood in front of Jean and smiled up at him, “And, I suppose you’re my date. Unless she is-” Pieck glanced at you- “Which I’m more than okay with as well.”

“No,” Jean said quickly, “I am.”

“Awesome,” Pieck said with a smile, “Is there a table being readied for us inside or-”

“I have a reservation,” Reiner said, “The table should’ve been readied about ten minutes ago, when we were supposed to be here - Pieck - if you didn’t take an hour just to pick a dress.”

Pieck smiled wide though her words were drenched in venom, “I thought you said you’d stop mentioning that once we got here, Reiner.” Pieck turned to her friend with a tilt of her head. “Am I correct?”

Reiner’s face dropped as well as his stomach, “Of course, I’m sorry, Pieck.”

“So,” Jean said to fill the new silence that had settled, “You all think we should head inside now?”

“Yes!” Pieck said as she ran to Jean’s side, sliding her arm around his and pulling him off towards the front doors of the restaurant. You couldn’t help but pout at their backs as they walked off, noticing how close they immediately got with each other and even the new smile plastered across Jean’s face.

“And,” A gentle voice said suddenly from your left, “‘You ready to head inside as well?”

You looked at the boy by your side and took in the sight of his arm thrusted in your direction. His arm was thick, as much as a football player’s arm is supposed to be. And - if you looked close enough - you could see where his muscle was bulging beneath the fabric of his button down shirt and where the veins of his arms were protruding from within his skin.

You walked inside the restaurant by Reiner’s side, intertwining your arm with his. He talked briefly with the hostess at the entrance, and then walked with you as the group was led to a large table in the back. The table was sensually dimmed and if you were here with only one person, you were sure you would end the night in their arms - the atmosphere was enough to cause your heart rate to accelerate and butterflies to flutter around in your stomach.

You took the seat across from your date, and Pieck quickly took the seat to your right. The night started slowly, a light stream of conversation amongst the four of you. You talked about the general information of each person; their college major, their hobbies, their living situations, their weekend plans, and anything else someone could think of in the heat of the moment.

The night was going swimmingly, you ordered the white wine and a dish going by the name of polpette di cavallo which you hadn’t given much thought to before ordering. It was a smaller dish than what you were originally expecting, a white porcelain plate with a mysterious brown substance surrounding three meatballs.

You pushed your fork and knife through the slightly charred meat, cutting the balls into consumable pieces. You continued to talk with the group and - more specifically - Reiner. You found out more about the boy you were on the date with, from his personal life to his football career to his plans after college.

He was sweet, he was funny, and he always gave you time to speak - continuously asking you questions about yourself.

But, unfortunately for him, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Jean. He talked with Pieck to your right, and you couldn’t help but listen to every word exchanged between the two. Even going as far as cutting into their conversation a few times and answering a question clearly directed at Jean.

“And then,” You said in response to Pieck’s question, “Jean went back to the party to pick Connie up because he finally realized he left him behind!”

Pieck giggled loudly, “That’s amazing!” She completely turned in her seat, now facing you instead of her date. “Then, what happened?”

You leaned closer to the girl, “Then, he called and begged me to meet him at the party.” You grinned wider. “Because, he didn’t want to leave again after going back.”

Pieck quickly turned back to Jean, “Why didn’t you want to leave? Even after Sasha threw that drink in your face?” Pieck then looked back at you. “And, why did he call you to come to the party as well?”

You furrowed your eyebrows at Pieck, “I’m actually not sure-”

Jean shrugged lightly, “I just- I wanted another beer and I needed somebody to drive me home afterwards.”

You turned your gaze to Jean, your eyes lit with a new fury. That was why he called you that night? For a damn ride, not even for your company? It was always strange to you how Jean could be so casually cruel. He’d speak before thinking and end up breaking a piece of your heart without noticing - and he did it frequently.

“Seriously,” The word was drenched in hurt as you shouted it across the table at Jean, “That’s seriously all you called me for? You just wanted a ride, Kirstein?”

Jean scratched the back of his neck, “I know you don’t really like drinking so I wasn’t worried about you getting drunk-”

“What do you mean I don’t like drinking?” You thrusted your hand towards your half-full glass of white wine. “I drink all of the time, I’m a real maniac.”

Jean smiled, “Oh, you’re crazy-” Jean leaned on the table, coming closer to you- “I mean, you really are a maniac - How can you possibly slowly sip white wine at an Italian restaurant?”

And, as quickly as Jean could upset you and break your heart, he could just as quickly mend your broken parts.

You bit your lip to hide your new smile, “I can go crazy-” You leaned towards Jean as well- “Sometimes, I sip from your beers and then I immediately regret it because it’s gross.”

“Oh,” Jean giggled with the word, “You’re wild.”

It was like time had stopped completely - which seemed to happen a lot when around Jean. You were sure it was because he was too beautiful not to stare at, and Father Time helped you by stopping everything altogether. Or, you thought the effect of time stopping was purely psychological considering how deeply you knew the boy. But, whatever the reason, time stopped nonetheless.

You sat motionless, only looking into Jean’s eyes - a color reminding you of a tiger's eye crystal. And - like a tiger’s eye crystal - Jean seemed to radiate confidence and strength, and gave you an unknown balance to your own being. Jean was your second half, a part of you that you hadn’t known was missing. He was like the second half of an undone puzzle or-

“How’s your-” Reiner said, suddenly breaking the moment between you and Jean- “Your- uh, po- polpette-”

“Polpette di cavallo,” Pieck finished Reiner’s sentence for him.

Reiner nodded briskly, “That.” He smiled wide at you. “How is that?”

“It’s good,” You said as you scanned the plate in front of you, “It’s very thick, I think they used a different part of the cow than what I’m used to.” You glanced at the three faces watching you intently. “Maybe the stomach? I don’t know what part they use for hamburgers, I don’t really like thinking about it.”

Pieck giggled and pushed your shoulder lightly, “You’re kidding, right?”

You widened your eyes at the girl, “Oh, is it not the stomach?” You cleared your throat. “Then, the- the thighs?”

“No, silly,” Pieck said with a smile, “That’s not beef-” Pieck thrusted at the meat still sitting on the plate in front of you- “That’s chavelin.”

You gave Pieck a blank face, “Chave- what?”

“Chavelin.” Pieck tilted her head at you. “You know, horse meat?”

Suddenly, the chavelin was making another entrance, just this time coming back up. You smashed a hand over your mouth as the horse meat mingled with your stomach acid, begging to be back on the plate in front of you. You made quick eyes around the table; first at Pieck who was rubbing your shoulder soothingly and asking what was wrong, then to Reiner who was leaning across the table with wide eyes, and then to Jean who was already standing, gesturing you towards the bathroom.

Jean, sweet Jean, you felt strangely guilty for consuming the meat but - oddly enough - he didn’t seem to mind. At least, he didn’t look like he minded as you ran off towards the bathroom, your high heels clicking quickly against the fancy tiles of the Italian restaurant.

You swung the bathroom door open, ignoring the cringeworthy smash that erupted through the room once the door hit the wall behind it. There were other women in the bathroom, but you ignored them as you made your way to the first open stall you could find. The women watched curiously as you fell to your knees in front of the toilet, threatening to throw up the food you had so mindlessly eaten for the last hour and a half.

Nothing came out though, only a few breathless burps into the toilet bowl. You sat there for a few minutes longer than you needed to, sitting against the marble-tiled wall beside the toilet. You pressed your face against the tiles lightly, letting the coolness calm down your sweating skin.

“This is the women’s restroom,” A woman’s voice said from beside the sink.

“I’m sorry,” A familiar voice said back, “I’m just here checking up on somebody. She got sick, I’m here to-”

You lightly pushed the bathroom stall open, leaning against the edge of the door. You smiled weakly at Jean, standing with two middle-aged women who you remembered briefly from when you ran in here. He seemed to be aggressively convincing them of his honesty, swinging his arms around ferociously with his words. And upon seeing you standing in the doorway, the women finally believed him and didn’t try stopping him any further.

“Hi,” You said delicately from across the few feet separating you and Jean, “This is the women’s restroom, what are you doing in here?”

Jean bit back his smile, “I thought you might want some company.” Jean crossed the steps between you, now only a few inches away. “Nobody deserves to puke alone.”

You lightly pushed Jean’s shoulder with a giggle, “You’re ridiculous, but thank you-” You turned around and opened your arms to the inside of the empty bathroom stall- “And, welcome to my humble abode.”

“Oh,” Jean said with a smile, “I like what you did with the place.”

You grinned, “Thank you, I just got done with renovations, so I appreciate that.”

“And,” Jean quickly added as he pointed towards the lone sink in the corner, “The kitchen area looks very nice.”

You shrugged, “I tried to go for something a bit more modern and minimalistic.”

Jean breathlessly giggled by your side, “Well, you succeeded.”

Jean let you take the first seat, watching as you found your spot beside the toilet with the side of your face against the tiled wall. Jean then joined you on the floor, sitting by your side and pressing the side of his face against the tiled wall, but only so he could make eye contact with you.

The bathroom got silent a minute after Jean joined you in the stall. You supposed the other women were either staying quiet in order to eavesdrop or left to return to their dinners. Either way - you didn’t care if the women were there or not - you were going to talk to Jean freely in your secret space.

You weren’t sure why the bathroom now felt sacred to you. It wasn’t at the end of the Labyrinth for only the worthy to find. Instead, it was a bathroom in an Italian restaurant with a purely Italian menu that you should have used Google Translate for. But, it felt like you and Jean’s secret space, a place where you two could always find each other and could spend the rest of eternity together. Nothing bad happened within these stall walls, and nobody was eating horse meat for the past hour and a half within these stall walls.

“Do you remember when we first met?” Jean suddenly asked in an attempt to fill the comfortable silence in the bathroom.

You nodded lightly, “Yeah, of course I do.”

You had met Jean at a house party freshman year of college. You were invited since your roommate at the time was sleeping with the home-owner which happened to be one of Jean’s closest friends. And - ironically - you met Jean on the bathroom floor in that house at that fateful party nearly two years ago. It was strange how things went full circle.

Jean leaned his shoulder into your own, “Do you remember why we even started talking that night?”

You grinned to yourself, “Yeah, I do.”

You only started talking to Jean that night because you found him crying on the floor of the bathroom when you went to find your roommate. He was tipsy and had just seen his ex-girlfriend - who he was clearly not over - downstairs, dancing with another man. You had a bag of popcorn that your roommate begged you to make for her, but you instead offered it to Jean and joined him on the bathroom floor.

Jean tilted his head towards you, “Do you remember what you said to me?”

You looked into Jean’s eyes through your thick eyelashes, “Yes, I remember.”

While sitting on the bathroom floor together, Jean ranted to you about his ex-girlfriend and even the new guy she was dancing with. You heard about why they broke up, who she moved onto, and why he couldn’t bring himself to move on. You then leaned into his side on that bathroom floor, whispering one phrase you had been telling yourself for years.

Jean smiled to himself, “When you go looking for gold, you end up finding fool’s gold - so don’t go looking at all.”

“Let the gold come to you.” You whispered back to Jean, finishing your own quote from two years ago. You hadn’t known the words were so monumentous, you thought nothing of the quote and yet it stayed with him all of these years.

“I followed your advice,” Jean said matter-of-factly, “I followed your advice so well - actually - that I even started to push the gold away when it was just within reach.” Jean looked down at his fingers fiddling with the fabric of his slacks. “I set her up on a hundred horrible dates hoping I could forget about her for only a moment. But, I couldn’t forget about her, even if somebody wiped my memory.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot as you smiled at Jean, “That doesn’t even make sense.” Jean looked at like a wounded deer, wide scared eyes taking up all of your sight. “You can’t remember me if your memory was wiped - that’s not possible.”

“I’d manage,” Jean said with newly red cheeks, “I couldn’t forget you, even if the government tried to make me.”

You pushed Jean’s shoulder playfully, “Nuh-uh - you’re a liar, Kirstein.”

Jean shook his head, “Nope, I’ll always remember you.” He leaned his head in towards you. “I’ll remember your laugh and that little wrinkle you get between your eyebrows when I do something stupid.”

“Oh,” You said with a playful furrow of your brow, “‘You mean the wrinkle I get when you do anything?”

Jean grinned lightly, “Yeah, that one.” He continued leaning in closer until he was only a whisper away. “And how you taste like tropical fruits - like lemons and coconut.”

“And,” You whispered to his mouth, “How do you know what I taste like?”

Jean smiled, “I just intend on finding out.” His lips were pressed lightly against your own, his hand on the side of your head. “So, can I find out?”

You nodded, “Please do.”

Jean gently pressed his lips to yours, and the feeling made your stomach flip with excitement. You moved your legs closer to his, bare thighs on clothed thighs and the hem of your dress shifting up to your hips. You didn’t mind the new coldness spreading over your legs because your insides felt unbearably hot when kissing him.

The softness of Jean’s lips weren’t anything new to you. You had kissed Jean before, a soft smooch during a drunk game of spin the bottle - but never like this. His lips tasted like blueberry vodka last time you tasted them, but now his lips tasted like rosé and mint - a byproduct of the wine he had been drinking all night and the mint he sucked on before you ran off towards the bathroom - It wasn’t the best taste, but you weren’t complaining.

“I’m glad you waited for me,” You whispered into Jean’s mouth.

It became extremely clear to you at some point of the night just how much Jean means to you. Maybe because of one of the many times when you caught Jean’s eyes looking into your own. Or, one of the many times you noticed Jean talking to you when telling a story, as if you were the only one there with him. Or, one of the many times when you watched Jean fiddle mindlessly with the top of his wine glass, his eyes never leaving your frame - mentally undressing you in front of everybody in the restaurant and both of your dates.

He couldn’t help it though, he’s always loved how you looked in that black satin dress. It seemed everybody liked the dress, considering both Reiner and Pieck couldn’t keep their eyes off of your frame as well. Reiner and Pieck, who were still waiting at that table, hoping for some word from their dates who now found themselves sucking face in the women’s restroom.

“Jean,” You whispered, “We should head back.”

Jean sighed, “Okay.”

So, you did. You left the bathroom with Jean and eventually the restaurant, planning on going to where you normally did after dates - Jean’s apartment. It wasn’t easy saying goodbye to such a nice guy like Reiner knowing there wouldn’t be a second date, and it wasn’t easy saying no to Pieck’s offer of a second date with just her, and it especially wasn’t easy staring into that half-finished plate of polpette di cavallo until you and Jean finally made your exit.

The car ride was mostly quiet, both of you ignoring the obvious elephant in the room - what the hell happened in the bathroom. You didn’t regret the conversation on the bathroom floor or even the kiss that came afterwards, but you did regret ever cutting the kiss short. You searched your mind for some way back to that moment, thinking of a plan of either building and operating a time machine or trying again with Jean.

“So,” You said, “Pieck seems nice.”

Jean grinned to himself, “So does Reiner.”

You nodded slowly and turned to look out of the window, “‘Think there will be a second date with her?”

“If you’re having a second date with Reiner.” Jean spared a glance from the road in order to look at you. “‘Think there will be a second date with him?”

“Eh, he’s not really my type.”

Jean stopped the car at a red light. The color red seeped through the windshield, turning the inside of the car a bright crimson. Jean’s features were lit up by the light as his gaze danced across every inch of your face.

“He’s not?” Jean asked, “Then, what’s your type?”

You furrowed your brow, “Are you stupid?”

Jean smiled wide, “What are you saying?”

You shook your head and leaned forward, caressing Jean’s cheeks gently. You pressed your lips to his, smiling against his mouth. Jean kissed you back, quickly turning a sensual peck into a feverish makeout.

You felt Jean’s hands as they moved up the soft fabric of your dress. His fingers moved across your side and then wrapped around your body, landing on your back. He used the new position to pull you closer, much to your surprise considering the gasp that escaped from between your lips to the movement.

You wrapped your arms around Jean’s neck, pulling his face in closer. You pushed your tongue towards his mouth, and he gladly let it enter between his lips. You felt his breath hitch in his throat when you curled your tongue and swiped it across the roof of his mouth. Jean responded to the kiss with a tight grip on your dress only bringing you in-

A car suddenly honked it’s horn from behind you. Jean and you pulled apart as quickly as possible, ignoring that anything had happened. You slowly wiped your thumb across your bottom lip, smearing the wetness from the kiss onto your fingertip.

The rest of the ride was brutal, your desire for Jean was only getting unbearable. He didn’t even have to do anything. His fingers curving around the steering wheel made your heart pound. His slight head bob to the music quietly playing from the radio made your stomach inflate with nerves. And, his perfect posture in the driver’s seat made you want to groan with how badly you wanted him.

It was ridiculous, you were turning into a prepubescent boy - finding anything and everything Jean did as the epitome of attraction.

The car couldn’t have pulled into the apartment building’s parking lot any sooner. You were practically melting in Jean’s passenger seat and you needed to feel him again, you didn’t care why. You opened the car door and eventually walked alongside Jean towards his apartment complex.

You silently walked into the apartment building with Jean, and even rode up the elevator just as quiet. You waited beside him as he unlocked his apartment door. You watched as the muscles in his back moved under his shirt as he attempted to hold the door and unlock it at the same time - a trick the lock needed since the apartment was so old.

Once inside, you quickly kicked your shoes off, leaving them to lay with his shoes. You dropped your purse with the shoes as well, leaving it on the floor beside the door. And once you had discarded your unneeded items, you stood there - waiting for a sign from him, any sign at all.

Jean crossed his arms against his chest, his eyes landing on anything in the room but you. He peered across the kitchen and living room, even eyeing his bedroom door for a few seconds. Jean sighed before mumbling into the awkwardly silent room.

“So,” Jean said, “What do you want to do?”

You pressed your lips together, “I liked what we were doing in the car.” Jean suddenly looked at you, his eyes widened. “And, in the bathroom at the restaurant.”

Jean grinned to himself, “‘You wanna do that again?”

“Yes.” You nodded. “I do.”

Jean crossed the space between you, swooping his arms around you and pressing your chest into his. You bent your head upwards, giving Jean more room as his mouth pressed kisses into your neck and cheek. You giggled with your words as you attempted to speak.

“Jean,” You said as you pushed your fingers through his soft hair. You moved Jean’s face back enough to make eye contact with him. “‘Race you to the bedroom?”

Jean never thought he could let go of you in general, never mind quicker than he’s ever done anything before in his life. As soon as you were out his arms, Jean was running towards his bedroom door. You tried to beat him though, grabbing his arm and pulling him backwards, but nothing stopped him - he beat you into the bedroom.

You left the door open in front of you, standing back as Jean threw his discarded clothes from the bedroom floor and into his laundry basket - a half assed attempt at cleaning up. You supposed the gesture was nice, considering he wanted to clean up for you. But, it was even nicer knowing Jean had never seen his date with Pieck ending here.

Your eyes peered across the entirety of his bedroom, something so familiar now with a different connotation. You’ve touched Jean plenty of times in this very room, but not the way you’re about to. You knew that after tonight, everything would be different between you two - but a good type of different that filled you with hope.

Your eyes landed on the alarm clock on his bedside table, the red numbers flickering suddenly from 11:59 to 12:00.

Second Sunday

Jean’s body weight was crushing on top of you, but a type of crushing weight that was comfortable. You swore you could live under Jean’s body for the rest of eternity. He was warm and strong and his kissing only made the position all that much better.

Your dress was on the floor and you were mostly naked, lying on Jean’s bed with only a bra and panties on. He pressed his bare chest into your chest, the only clothes on his body being his pair of slacks and the brown belt holding them up.

“Jean,” You breathed into his mouth, “I want you.”

Jean groaned against your lips, the sound coming from deep within his throat. He had never thought he’d hear those words from your lips, he never thought he’d be good enough to. But alas, here you were; underneath him, mostly naked, whispering gut wrenching phrases into his mouth.

You moved your hands down his lean body, dainty fingers finding the waistline of his pants. You undid the belt around his waist and threw it to the floor once it was out of the belt loops. You then brought your hands to his zipper, undoing that as well.

You pushed Jean’s slacks down his legs, moving them out of the way in order to free enough space for what you really wanted from him at the moment. You curled your hands around his body, digging your nails into his back in an attempt to bring him closer. You pressed your fingers into the small of his back as you bucked your hips upwards towards him.

You felt as Jean’s hardness pressed down between your legs, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped from between your lips. Jean moved his lips from yours, allowing more panting breaths to escape from your mouth as he continued to press down into you. He instead kissed down your neck, taking in each moan and ingraining them into his memory.

You moved your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, and pushed them down over his hips. He was just as big as you had always assumed. You weren’t perverted or dirty minded per say, but some nights you’d catch yourself with an excessive amount of questions; you’d wonder about his size, if he were good in bed, and if he had ever satisfied a woman before.

Sure enough, your questions would be answered after tonight.

You brought your hips to his, feeling him through only one layer of clothing now. You brought your hips off of the bed, pushing your panties down over your thighs. You awkwardly moved your legs around Jean’s, attempting to kick the fabric to the floor.

Jean brought his mouth to your ear before breathily whispering, “Do you still want me?”

You nodded frantically, “Yes, yes- yes, please.”

Jean grinned at your response, finally bringing his hips to yours. It was a moment you had waited for for much longer than you thought. This moment was in the distance for two whole years, and now it was finally here. You had wanted this for so long, to the point where you’d take anything Jean would give you - such as a drunken peck and a date with nearly every man on campus.

Next Chapter

#jean kirstein #jean aot #aot #modern au #college au #jean x reader #aot x reader #jean boy #jean kirstein x reader #double date #x reader #slight smut #f/m

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years

Text

Don’t Take the Money

(cross-posted from my AO3 and based on the Bleachers song of the same name; you should give it a listen ‘cause it definitely shaped this story)

-vomit tw, depression tw, lots of angst and emotional whump with a happy ending, of course-

Jaskier had received six urgent messages in three weeks, each delivered by a different exhausted messenger in the same oddly familiar livery. They showed up outside of inns, in the corner of taverns, and one of them even had to trek through the deep woods to find their hidden campsite; Geralt almost felt bad for them. Almost.

After the seventh strange man appeared with a scroll for Jaskier, the bard didn’t even bother reading it. He merely tossed the rolled and sealed piece of parchment into a refuse pile on their way out of town and didn’t look back. Geralt picked it up when the bard wasn’t paying attention, letting his eyes scan the fancy, swirling script of the Viscountess Pankratz.

Julian Alfred Pankratz,

Return home immediately! Your wedding cannot be put off any longer! Lady Ainsley will not wait another month for your foolish adventures with that Witcher to come to an end. If you do not return for your wedding in three weeks time then you shall be officially disowned and your name will be stricken from the family records.

With Urgency,

Lady Pankratz

Geralt swallowed hard. Jaskier was betrothed? He was to be married in three weeks? But they weren’t anywhere near Redania. Or Lettenhove. Jaskier had never mentioned anyone by the name of Lady Ainsley before, or anything about his past if he could avoid it. Did that mean...?

“Why aren’t you going?” the Witcher asked. Jaskier whirled around, his eyebrow already raised in confusion; he went three shades paler than normal when he saw the limp paper hanging from Geralt’s fingers. “We’re not even remotely close to your hometown and we’re traveling in quite the opposite direction.”

Jaskier made a face and waved his hand dismissively.

“I know. I don’t want to marry her.”

“Why don’t you want to marry her? They’re going to disown you, Jaskier. Isn’t this” - he shook the letter for emphasis - “the life you’re used to living, anyway? You should go home and be with...with someone like you .”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Geralt? You think I belong with someone foppish? Loud? Annoying?” The bard was spitting mad already. The Witcher had touched on a sore spot, apparently. “Should I be with someone more breakable and human and petty?”

“Don’t you want- aren’t you-”

“C’mon big boy, use that fantastic Witcher brain of yours. Figure it out.”

Geralt didn’t understand.

“Wouldn’t you be happier with her than on the Path with me?”

Jaskier looked...hurt. His expression changed from indignant to heartbroken in the measure of time that occurred between split seconds. It did something awful in the Witcher’s gut. Something unfamiliar and painful. The bard’s next words were barely above a whisper. Even with his enhanced hearing Geralt had to focus hard: “Would you prefer me to be married off and out of your way?”

“No, that’s not what I-”

“I don’t even know what we’re even getting at here, Geralt. I’m sorry. I can return home if you’d like. If I send a messenger first thing tomorrow then the family’s hired mage can portal me back in time for the wedding.”

“Jaskier,” the Witcher was pleading. He didn’t know why or for what, but the pitch of his voice left room for no other possible interpretation. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“Then don’t ask me to marry her, Geralt.”

The Witcher dropped the letter back onto the refuse pile and shoved it deeper with the tip of his boot. Jaskier’s bright smile returned and the soft notes of his lute filled the air once again. For some inexplicable reason Geralt felt triumphant. As if he’d won a battle he didn’t know he’d been fighting against an enemy he’d never met before.

---

“Are you Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf?” a well-dressed stranger asked, approaching the table where the Witcher was seated. It had been a week since his and Jaskier’s argument over the summons. Neither one had brought it up again and the bard had seemed almost unusually affectionate since. The amount of casual touching they did had significantly increased, even when the sun set and it was growing close to bedtime. Jaskier seemed to be happy touching Geralt and the Witcher had no reason to complain; he liked knowing that his best friend wasn’t scared of him.

He regarded the messenger with a suspicious gaze, “Aye. I am Geralt of Rivia.”

“I have a contract for you.” The man slid a piece of paper across the table and folded himself into the chair across from Geralt’s. The pattern stamped into the red wax seal was familiar but the Witcher couldn’t quite remember where he’d seen it before. His strange visitor smiled benignly, “It doesn’t even involve killing.”

“Then why hire a Witcher? That’s kind of our schtick.”

“This agreement is of a more personal nature,” the man shrugged, leaning back in his chair and waiting for Geralt to read his missive. The Witcher took the delicate stationary in his large hands and unfolded it until he could see the printed words:

To Sir Geralt of Rivia,

Witcher and Friend of Julian Alfred Pankratz

We, the Pankratz Family, come to you and offer this agreement:

Return Julian safely to our ancestral home within two weeks and you shall be paid the sum of 1500 crowns. Consider it a bodyguarding mission, if you so desire.

You are also formally invited to attend the wedding of Julian Alfred Pankratz of Lettenhove to the Countess Ainsley DeStael of Rinde, which will occur three days after your mission ends.

In order to complete the job and claim your payment, however, you must leave the wedding party without Julian at your side and return to your Witcher duties alone. He isn’t cut out for such a hard life on the road. He is of noble blood and has responsibilities here at home. Please return him to his kind of people and claim your coin in recompense.

Sincerely,

Francois Reginald Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove

Constantina Charlotte Pankratz, Lady de Lettenhove

Geralt glanced up from the contract and out into the main dining room where Jaskier was currently jigging atop one of the surprisingly sturdy tables. The bard’s smile was bright, his voice was strong and clear as he sang of lovers meeting in secret, and his blue eyes twinkled with joy. He loved the attention of performing. How could Geralt take that away from him, even if he would be safer at home? Even if he would be married to another, spending his time with another, caring for another…

But didn’t Geralt care about Jaskier? Isn’t that why he’d risked life and limb over and over to keep the bard safe? Because Geralt loved him? He pushed the thought away with haste and tried to keep his expression neutral. His amber eyes strayed to the upturned hat at Jaskier’s feet. People had been depositing coins there all night and a rather decent pile had sprung up but -

But he could be doing better, Geralt thought. He could be taking a warm bath every night and buying expensive oils from real apothecaries and not sketchy traveling salesmen. He could be dressing in silk every day and never complain about having to wear a woolen doublet for warmth again. He could sleep next to a fire in a real feather-bed. With blankets. He could stay healthy and safe and never go near another angry monster for all his days.

Something in the Witcher’s heart withered and died when he realized just how much he’d been holding Jaskier back; something important. Something the bard had helped him cultivate over six long years of traveling together. In an instant the Witcher had hidden it away in a dark corner to die.

“Alright.”

“Huh,” the messenger smirked. “They thought it would take more bribery to get you to agree, Witcher.”

“It’s not about the crowns,” Geralt shrugged, gaze flitting back up to Jaskier. The bard’s twinkling cornflower-blue eyes met with his and Geralt quickly glanced away, already ridden with guilt and shame over his decision. “It’s about making him happy and keeping him safe.”

“If I didn’t know any better about your kind and their lack of feelings,” the messenger snorted, “I’d say you might even love the Little Lord Pankratz.”

“If I didn’t know any better about myself,” Geralt replied, “I might agree.”

“See you in two weeks, then. Hope you can make it to Redania in time.”

“Why not just portal us there? Jaskier said his family had a hired mage.”

“Busy with wedding preparations,” the man shrugged. “Anyway, I must be going. The Viscount and her Ladyship are eager to hear your reply. See you soon, I’m sure.”

The stranger stood, bowed, and disappeared back to Lettenhove with the signed contract. Geralt swallowed back a mouthful of bile. He hated himself. He really did. But this is what’s best for Jaskier.

---

“Who was that, earlier at the table?” the bard asked. He was lounging on the bed with a tin of lute polish in one hand and a rag in the other. “Did he have a contract?”

“Yes. In Redania, actually.”

“Oh, lovely! It’s almost time for the summer festivals to begin; I can show you the best alehouse in all of Novigrad while we’re there.”

“My job is near Lettenhove. Do you want to go with me?”

“Sure. Might be fun to swing by my old stomping grounds. This doesn’t have anything to do with my canceled wedding, does it?” the bard shot him a pointed look. Geralt schooled his features into some sort of passivity and shook his head.

“Vampires rarely attend the weddings of minor nobility,” the Witcher lied through his teeth.

“Vampires, huh? Nifty. Haven’t had one of those to write about in awhile.”

“Hmm.”

---

“Geralt, help! Geralt, please! GERALT!”

The Witcher tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He kept hearing Jaskier’s raw, heartbroken voice ringing in his ears. He could still smell the desperation and panic that clung to the bard’s soft skin as he struggled to get away from his captors. To get back to where the Witcher stood with Roach and the gatekeeper. Geralt kept imagining those eyes, those fucking beautiful eyes, brimming with tears of betrayal as a liveried servant handed him a velvet pouch stuffed fat with crowns. Oh gods, the way his bard had looked at him…Geralt shoved his head out the window and vomited. There was nothing but the sour sting of bile against his tongue and the back of his throat. He heaved in a breath but choked back the sob threatening to come with it.

“Please don’t leave me here, Geralt! Don’t take the money! I’ll be better, I promise! I won’t talk as much, I won’t touch Roach again, I won’t write any ballads about you, Geralt please, I lo-”

The guards had dragged Jaskier inside and slammed the heavy oak door shut before he could finish his sentence, but the Witcher had gotten the general idea. The bard thought he was doing this out of hatred and not out of the sincerest, purest love Geralt had ever felt. He thought this was a punishment and not a slightly backwards form of rescue. If only the bard could understand.

Jaskier’s love wasn’t unrequited.

The bard stole the very breath from Geralt’s lungs every time their eyes met. Every time Jaskier crowed with pride after finishing a new song about their adventures together the Witcher felt his icy heart melt a little more. Each casual brush of their hands as they walked side-by-side sent his emotions reeling. The way his exuberant bard looked as he strolled beside Roach, the sunshine bringing out streaks of dark red in his chestnut hair and lightening the embroidery on his travel jerkin, it was ethereal. Magical. Overwhelming in all the best ways.

And he’d given it all away for a measly pouch of a coin and a slightly clearer conscious. Or was it?

Geralt retched again as he came to another realization.

He had forced Jaskier into something he didn’t want. Geralt had always given his friend free reign. The younger man came on and off the Path like a bee between flowers, visiting and traveling with the Witcher when he pleased and leaving again for odd jobs or festivals when Geralt wasn’t in the mood for company. But he’d given him no choice about the marriage. No, he’d wrestled Jaskier to the ground and bound his hands. He’d gagged him. He’d flung the bard into Roach’s saddle and tied his crossed wrists to the pommel so he couldn’t pick the knots free and escape. He’d passed Jaskier off to the guards and watched them drag him away as he spit out the gag and started yelling.

As he confessed his love to Geralt after six long years on the Path together.

Fucking hells, what have I done to him?

The suddenly panicked Witcher tumbled from his rented bed and reached for his boots. There was no time to spare. There was no time to waste.

There was only Jaskier.

---

Jaskier couldn’t believe it.

After all this time. After all their adventures. After all the songs he’d written and rooms he’d gotten them at comfortable inns, this is how the Witcher repaid him. Trading him back to his parents for a bag of coin like he was some sort of slave or whore.

He was a bard.

He was Geralt’s bard.

Well, he used to be Geralt’s bard. Now he was going to be Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove and Lord of Rinde by marriage.

He wished he could just stop breathing and disappear. His heart thudded dully in his chest and it felt as if he was floating several feet below the surface of deep water. He was unable or unwilling to surface; maybe both. There was no point anymore, really. Geralt, the only person he’d ever really loved, had trussed him up like a market goose and traded him for silver.

The food his family’s servants brought him laid mostly untouched. He knew how to eat just enough to keep from dying. He’d been in plenty of dungeons and bandit camps before. Jaskier had spent six years following the Witcher’s Path and surviving off of whatever Geralt caught or he traded for. There was no reason to eat any more than what he needed to keep his body alive. There was no reason to get out of bed. Or bathe. Or change clothes. These clothes still smelled like the road. Like lute polish and chamomile oil and Roach and mud and Geralt.

“Please,” his mother begged, clasping his limp hand in both of hers. She’d been sitting at his bedside for maybe an hour, watching him stare listlessly up into the green velvet canopy above him. “Just eat something substantial. Say something. Do something, Julian. We know you aren’t happy with us or our decision but you can’t just lay here all day and wallow in self-pity. You have responsibilities to take care of; Ainsley has grown worried and her father is impatient.”

“The wedding is tomorrow,” he’d replied. There was no emotion in his voice and the monotony was soothing to his own ears. Geralt didn’t like it when he got too excited. Best to be calm and quiet like a good little noble. “I will be presentable. I will be at the altar. I will do my duty for the family.”

“Thank you, Julian.”

“But I will not love her.”

“You never have to love her,” his mother smiled. She gave his hand another small pat before standing and moving towards the door. Her job here was done, after all. “We only need you to marry her.”

---

Geralt pounded up the steps of the keep two-at-a-time. His usually slow heartbeat was now pounding in his ears like a warlord’s drum. He had to save Jaskier, he had to - the door slammed open and something hard went flying into his chest, knocking him back a step. The Witcher reached out a hand to steady the person he’d collided with but his amber eyes were still focused on the castle’s front door. He moved to step around the stranger and into the building when they suddenly spoke. The bard’s voice was pitchy and low from crying all morning: “Geralt?”

“Jaskier?” the Witcher gasped. His grip tightened around the younger man’s upper arm. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” Jaskier looked truly flabbergasted. His expression shifted from shock to anger quickly, however, and the hurt in those blue eyes nailed Geralt to the ground where he stood. “Am I OKAY? You absolute fucking moron; of course I’m not okay. The love of my life tied me up, handed me over to my horrible fucking family like a Beltane offering, and disappeared into the night with a fat bag of crowns. The one person I love most in this world, the only person I’d ever trust with my life or my lute, treated me like a transaction of some sort. I am very much not okay, Geralt of Rivia! Now pick me up, take me to Roach, and get me the fuck out Lettenhove before I have to marry that horrible, terrible, hideous woman!”

The Witcher cracked a smile. Jaskier jabbed a finger into his chest and frowned even more deeply. “Why the fuck are you smiling, Witcher?”

“Because I missed the sound of your voice.”

The bard blushed, his righteous anger faltering.

“I love you too,” Geralt added. Jaskier’s eyes somehow grew even rounder and more watery. “I’m so fucking sorry but I didn’t know how else to protect you. I thought that maybe after coming home and seeing how much nicer it was than being on the Path you might want to stay here and be safe. Live your life normally. I thought you’d be happier here than you were with me. You’d certainly wouldn’t be hurt as often.”

“Did you just say that you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Did you hear me say that I love you, mere moments ago?”

“Yes.”

“Then why the fuck would you try to get rid of me?” The Witcher tried not to flinch when Jaskier placed a gentle hand against his cheek. He’d expected a slap. A kick to the shin. A knee to the groin. Screaming. He hadn’t expected that look of soft understanding to dawn on Jaskier’s boyish face. Despite the knowing sparkle in his eyes, the bard’s voice was sad. “Caged birds never sing, Geralt. What an awful cage it would have been; I'd never see my handsome Witcher again. I'd never attend another royal wedding as entertainment. I'd never write another line of song, much less be able to sing it. I would have been miserable Geralt. I probably would have died much sooner here than I would on the Path.”

“Can you ever forgive me?”

“As soon as you do as I say and get me the hell out of here, then yes, I’ll consider forgiving you, Witcher.”

“Well I suppose we shouldn’t waste any time.”

Geralt flung the bard up and over his shoulder and took off back down the steps at a sprint. He wasn’t going to let those people have his darling Jaskier back. Not if they tried to cage him and take his voice. He knew better now. He understood.

They loved each other.

The bard was laughing brightly, bouncing along as Geralt made for the stables. He could see his family exiting the Great Hall and making their way in his direction. It didn’t matter. They’d never catch up with his Witcher. He shot them several naughty hand gestures and grinned widely when Geralt swung them both up into Roach’s saddle. “Sorry girl,” he apologized. “Time for our daring escape into the woods.”

---

"Fifteen hundred crowns, huh?" Jaskier asked, eyeing the hefty purple velvet bag.

"Actually there are only fourteen hundred left," Geralt shrugged. He reached into his saddlebag and brought out a small leather pouch, which he handed to Jaskier. The bard opened it, peered inside, and gasped in very genuine surprise.

"Geralt..."

"Do you like it?" the Witcher was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth in the cutest way. Jaskier wanted to answer but his heart was caught somewhere between his throat and his stomach so he couldn't quite form words. He nodded.

"Can you help me put it on?"

"There's no clasp. They aren't meant to have clasps."

"I know."

Geralt's heart soared as he lifted his gift for Jaskier out of the bag and lowered it over his head. The medallion rested just between his collarbones, framed by a tuft of the bard's chest hair. It was a copy of Geralt's wolf medallion, only this wolf held a flower in its mouth. Gently, as if unwilling to break the stem or let it go.

"It's perfect," the bard beamed. His eyes were watery and he blinked the tears free to keep staring at his new jewelry. "Thank you."

"Hmm."

"What do you want to do with the rest of the money?"

"I don't know," the Witcher shrugged. "Maybe go to the coast?"

"I've always wanted to go there!"

Geralt pressed a tender kiss against Jaskier's lips, reveling in the sensation of his bard melting against his chest. They'd spent the last few nights wrapped around each other, whispering secrets and stories into each others mouths until sleep overtook them. Tonight would be no different, except that now Jaskier felt truly safe. He felt loved. He felt utterly surrounded by the happiness that came with being on the Path next to his Witcher. "What are you thinking about, little lark?"

"I'm glad you came back for me. I'm glad we're together now."

"Hmm. Me too."

#geraskier fic #geraskier #geraskier fanfic #geralt x jaskier #geraskier whump #geralt of rivia whump #jaskier whump #geraskier hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #geralt/jaskier #emotional hurt/comfort #h/c fic #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher netflix

589 notes · View notes

sunsoothed · 3 years

Text

hair(care)

remember this post? yes i wrote the fic. with some angst and backstory as a treat! family bonding time and people learning to love. the ao3 summary is "Yohan first learns affection through money, then oil." which i think is really really funny.

word count: 1696

read on ao3

apologies for any errors, and enjoy!

The first time Yohan tries, it is before everything. He’s allowed to err here and there, require an entire braid to be unwound and redone. He’s allowed to experiment with the clips and the ribbons and decide when the act is complete and present his art to his niece and his family. Elijah is rightfully fawned over, cheeks bright and smiles brighter, holding onto her uncle and hiding her face in his shoulder with glee.

That was, of course, before everything.

If Yohan has touched a hair on Elijah’s head since, it is only to make a promise or only in her sleep.

The doctors will take care of you, don’t worry. Samcheon is here. I won’t let them hurt you any more than you already have been.

Midnight, in that agonising few months of hospital rooms and the claustrophobic rehabilitation centre. When Elijah is able to perceive nothing but her breath, Yohan, hands reverent; soothing his own fears through comforting his niece. Things will be okay. We’ll be fine. A few grounding breaths are never enough, not after he learns what those monsters took from his niece.

And when Elijah cries. When she first asks after her mother and father, why they aren’t by her side, why is it just samcheon everyday? When Yohan’s tears ring before hers, for the first and last time. I’m sorry, so is declared. I’ll fix this, so is promised. He holds her as close as he can permit himself to, and vows to burn down this world if she asks him to.

Elijah, once, four years since, on her tenth birthday, asks him, “Can you help me?”

Yohan will pretend like he hasn’t been starved of hearing those words. He follows her to her room, honoured of her trip halfway across the house.

“The girls at school,” Elijah fumbles about, wringing her hands together, “that… they wear their…”

He stands in her doorway, somewhat uninvited, waits for her to finish.

“They wear their hair, kind of… like this,” Elijah mimics some variation of a hairstyle best she can, two locks of her hair held in her hands, the parting off. “I was just…”

Yohan, unfortunately, understands little. “Do you need a haircut?”

Elijah’s hands fall, as does the thin hope upon her features. “It’s nothing,” she dismisses. “I only called you because ahjumma wasn’t in today. It’s fine.”

Yohan blinks. “I can help if —”

“It’s fine,” Elijah hisses. “I was mistaken.”

If there is any chance of that ever happening again, time will have to be reversed. Elijah turns twelve, and things change, and Yohan notes his laptop has been hacked.

He buys her a cake for her thirteenth birthday that finds itself smashed against a wall and a demand for no such recurrence.

Yohan will never disobey her. Not with things that she can control.

So he buys no cakes, but buys her a building and channels the affection he allows himself to feel once a month in an allowance that shocks Ms Ji despite the lifetime she’s spent in this family.

Once, there is a package of hair care products with their usual shipment of essentials, which Ms Ji makes a show of putting in Yohan’s way. When he relents, it only takes a tilt of head to the east of the house for her to get the hint. He never knows if Elijah uses them, but the list goes on to include some products out of the large batch he’d purchased, and Yohan considers buying another building.

On her sixteenth birthday, Yohan asks, “Do you want to have a birthday party?”

Elijah asks, “Who will we call?”

Yohan nods, for that is an apt answer.

When Kim Gaon comes, Elijah hates him more than usual. That, Yohan had expected. What he hadn’t was that this hatred would melt away faster than ice when met with fire.

The frist time Elijah sports a more delicate hairstyle than the usual ponytail, Yohan thinks it’s a trick of the light. But she turns her head when retrieving cereal, and her hair is still parted that way and a short braid runs from behind her ear into the clipped-back hair at the back of her head, and Yohan pauses to stare.

Instead of their noncommittal acknowledgement of each other each morning, he asks, “When did you…” and gestures to the back of his head.

Elijah shrugs, looking over at him impassively for a moment before pursuing her breakfast once again. Kim Gaon slides into view, grin perpetually etched into his face, asks, “Elijah, did it stay?”

To which Elijah smiles back, and now Yohan’s eyebrows remain shot up.

Kim Gaon continues to talk, “It’s experimental. We’ll try a different style tomorrow. Your hair’s long enough to make an intricate bun.”

Yohan ensures Elijah watches him conspicuously eye the both of them.

“Kim pansa,” he says, breaking the moment. “We need to go to work.”

The next day, and the day after that, Elijah wears her hair in different styles. Once it is a high bun with some small braids, once it is a different parting and a new set of clips. Yohan observes critically over breakfast as Elijah holds her head a certain way to ensure it doesn’t fall into her food, and thinks, how impractical.

She catches him looking, so she hoists a sour look, to which Yohan responds with an exaggerated tilt of his head, aiming to mimic her.

“Don’t make fun of her,” Kim Gaon’s imposing voice interrupts. “Elijah looks fantastic today.”

Elijah beams. Yohan is disarmed of a biting reply for he hasn’t seem her teeth take on anything but a stubborn baring of power in front of him. He spends the rest of the day replaying it.

When things so south and north again, when Elijah acknowledges, begrudgingly, that her uncle did not have it out for her father, Kim Gaon mediates harmoniously.

He spends an evening making them both chase the cat around the house.

It’s an inane idea, even Elijah hates it, but he tells them the reason Kkomi starts throwing things off their desks at four in the morning is because she’s understimulated, and that even a cat needs to exercise.

So it’s Elijah’s job to get her rilled up enough to run — in a cat’s terribly comic way — away from them, and Yohan’s to ensure she keeps running around.

He’s insane, is what Kim Gaon is. Elijah’s more than sure this borders on some ethical offense. Yohan sure seems to find some pleasure in making the cat scared for her life.

Gaon congratulates them both with a mid-evening coffee and snack break. Elijah actually, voluntarily, asks for Yohan to pass the plate of biscuits across, and thanks him — thanks him! — when he does.

Before they all retire to bed, after another shared meal, Elijah calls for him from down the hall.

“Yohan!”

He turns, maintaining what he thinks is a smile.

“Can you try and get some coconut oil?”

“What for?”

Elijah scrutinises him, gauging how he doesn’t understand something so obvious. “For my hair.”

Yohan nods, still not on the same page, but very much wanting to be. “I’ll get it,” he assures.

He doesn’t blink twice at the astronomical shipping price.

It’s a tall bottle, imported and primly packaged, that greets Elijah when she returns home from her weekly ice-cream run with Gaon.

She eyes it, suspicious, before their resident busybody stands in her doorway and says, “Oh, bujang-nim actually bought it for you.”

Elijah blinks at Gaon innocently. Yohan does listen to her sometimes.

“Material wealth,” Gaon seems to understand. “We’ll put it in your hair tomorrow, okay? Keep it in for a few hours.”

“A few hours?” Yohan voices, having just turned the corner, dressed as he usually is at home.

“What are you doing here,” Elijah mutters, shooting a scowl at Yohan as he stands in her doorway as well.

He scowls back, never one to back down from a challenge, as Gaon goes on about the benefits of oiling hair behind them.

“Don’t pull,” Elijah hisses.

“I’m not,” Yohan insists, but puts less force into his actions nonetheless.

Gaon and Ms Ji are monitoring them, mirroring each other with their arms crossed and leaning against opposite sides of the doorway.

Yohan sections Elijah’s hair into three parts after brushing through it, the fine-toothed comb surprisingly sparse of broken hair.

“Gaon has been helping me take care of it,” Elijah had explained, when he errantly asked. “What, did you think I’m some sort of wild animal?”

Yohan carefully collects some oil in his palms, completely foreign to this, eyes flickering up to Gaon for guidance. Gaon is absolutely no help.

So he trusts his instincts and starts at Elijah’s scalp, rubbing oil in, and ends with oil down his forearms and Elijah’s hair in a thick braid. She’s fast asleep.

“That means you did a good job,” Gaon whispers to him.

Yohan would smile, but such affection hardly suits his face. He pats Gaon’s face with an oily hand, leaves him spluttering, and grins to himself as he tries to wash the oil off.

It barely becomes a routine, because despite Gaon’s somewhat vast knowledge on hair care and what Elijah read online, washing oil out of your hair can be a nightmare. But Ms Ji and Gaon have observed their two sulking overlords interacting with an increasing frequency, even if it is sometimes just to disagree about an arrangement of clips or parting of hair.

Gaon had supposed, somewhat, that his bujang-nim had at least an understanding of style. In his discussions with his niece, though, when somehow colour schemes and draping becomes relevant, Gaon admits he’d underestimated Kang Yohan.

Later Elijah will decide she wants to dress for dinner as well, and Yohan will be the only one diligently obeying the formality. So much so that he will leave a guest in the company of the villainous home to attend to his niece’s requests. No one will ask about the pink bow in her hair, but it’s more than enough for Yohan to know that he tied it up.

#the devil judge #the devil judge fic #tvn the devil judge #kang yohan #kang elijah #kim gaon #is there a tag for the fam #lawful family #(?)#idk #whovie writes

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gisellelx · 3 years

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Since tomorrow is Father’s Day (and also Edward’a birthday I think?) can you share some sappy headcannon moments about Carlisle and Edward?

Ohhhhh anon. Thank you for this. My heart, here it all is spilled out on paper. I am making NO APOLOGIES for the length of this post. You knew what you were getting into, here. And have I got a treat for you about my headcanon and this particular date: First, you must understand that because of the ole' sideblog, I have a very detailed headcanon about where Carlisle is at any given time so that there aren't continuity errors. This is actually one of the fun things about fanfic vs. profic--in profic, at least in contemporary YA, my genre, you are trying to minimize references to actual events and time lest your work not be timeless. But I have a really detailed outline of when all my characters exist; I find I can't write any other way. This is why SM is so baffling to me--it's so clear she just has like, blank gray clouds for any time any given character isn't on screen. Nah. I have backstories for days on even my minor characters. I always know where all of them are. In fic, I get to fully indulge that because no one has to figure out if the fic will still sell five or ten years from now if it makes a dated reference to the new iPhone. So I can set the characters precisely in time, and imagine how exact dates and events affect their lives right then. Carlisle and Esme have been in Wisconsin; the children are all living as individual couples in southern France. You can thank Foi Pur for the headcanon that the Cullens own a home in Toulouse. They were stationed there while Carlisle was practicing in Bergamo early in the pandemic, and the children stayed there while Carlisle followed the outbreaks and Esme refused to leave his side (even though he begged her to). They came to the U.S. last summer; they haven't lived here since they left Forks 8 years ago. The borders have been closed; they haven't seen the rest of the family since then. On June 9, 2021, France opened the borders to vaccinated Americans. As case counts have receded, Carlisle has shifted to being a more standard hospitalist, with the usual 7 days on, 7 off schedule instead of taking off to say, Mumbai, because he bought Esme their old house and she's busy with it. He's working that schedule at two hospitals though, so basically is never off-duty. As soon as France announced their change, he went to both CMOs and said he was taking time off to see his family. He had to finish working that week, and then had to work his next "on" week at the other hospital, which meant that June 19 was the earliest he could possibly travel. In other words, the actual world, and the very real constraints of the kind of work I envision Carlisle to be doing, have converged on the fact that Carlisle and Esme touched down in their private jet at Castres airport early this morning Central European Time. On Father's Day. And Edward's 120th birthday. Everybody met them. There were lots of non-liquid tears. Edward hopped on Sotheby's the moment the news dropped on June 4 and rented an estate in Saint-Tropez that is costing them a quarter of a million dollars a week but it's private and they can all be outside. They got there this morning and are throwing Edward an extravagant party this evening, and Carlisle hasn't been more than six feet from Edward for the last twelve hours. Edward's patience with this is going to tire by midday tomorrow, but for now, he's enjoying Carlisle's attention. (It's 7:30 PM in Saint-Tropez as I write this; they're in the thick of gift-giving.) In other words, these boys could not possibly be happier this particular Father's Day.

So that's the big, fun, sappy, timely hc. Here's some others:

Edward is an only child. There, I said it. Carlisle and Esme talk about having six children and will never in a million years admit, even to themselves, that they actually only have one child. But they treat Edward like he is their only child, and Carlisle thinks of him as separate from the rest. He certainly loves him more.

Edward gets very pouty if anyone but him celebrates Father's Day. Most of the others are very "whatever" about it but Carlisle and Rosalie do have a very father/daughter relationship and so she also likes to honor him on Father's Day. Because Edward is Edward, he assumes she's doing this just to annoy him and it's one more hash mark on the "Rosalie is a bitch" bingo card.

They are best friends as well as father and son. Their relationship is always both/and. It often turns on a dime--they're having a raucous, bawdy time one moment and then something triggers Edward and they are in full-on father/son comfort mode the next. Everything in their relationship happened very offhandedly. The first time Carlisle told Edward he loved him, it was by accident: he thought it while they were playing in the woods a few months after Edward's turning. Edward came to a stop so fast Carlisle almost crashed into him. Carlisle then said the words aloud for the first time.

Edward didn't return those words for nearly a year. Again, it was almost an afterthought: he was thanking Carlisle for a new phonograph and the words "I love you" just slid out. Carlisle almost spontaneously combusted.

The first time Edward called Carlisle his father, they were still living as a man and his brother-in-law. He came home excitedly, having bought tickets to the new moving picture house in town. He was telling Carlisle the story, excited that he felt confident enough to sit in a closed room with a crowd of humans, and mentioned he had bought two tickets because as he'd told the ticket seller, he thought his father would like to come. He was surprised when Carlisle started crying. Edward and Carlisle almost never fight. When they do, it is vicious. Edward is the only family to have ever seriously injured Carlisle; Carlisle has a long gash across his left collarbone and down his left scapula from the most serious attack in 1927. Edward hates it when Carlisle thinks about them. Carlisle has never broken Edward's skin, but there've been a handful of times they've had very tense conversations while Carlisle had him in a half nelson.

Nothing, and I mean nothing, can wound Carlisle more than Edward having a teenaged fit and screaming, "You're not my father!" Edward knows this, but sometimes his brain short circuits and he does it anyway. This has happened only a handful of times and each time it's taken years to repair.

Carlisle was touch-starved for so long that he is very touchy-feely with Edward. Edward is perpetually seventeen and does not like to be cuddled, hugged, or kissed. They met in a place that is nowhere near the middle where Carlisle occasionally puts his arm around Edward. Like, once or twice a year.

This changed a little bit when Renesmee became a teenager and started rebuffing Edward's physical affection. He came to Carlisle and complained about how she never wanted to be hugged anymore and Carlisle laughed so hard he choked. Edward has gotten a little better about being hugged since then. Renesmee has been very good for their relationship in lots of ways, not the least of which has been that it has helped them both view Edward as more of an adult. Anyway. I could go on for days. These details are always lurking, and they're sprinkled throughout any fic I write. Love these boys so much. They are such a fantastic duo to write. Happy Birthday, E.

Happy Father's Day, C.

#headcanons #carlisle cullen #edward cullen #father/son #long post #sorry not sorry #anon #ask #i honestly don't remember where the movie headcanon came from #i have absorbed it as canon so completely it feels like mine but i think i stole it

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fangirling-is-my-passion · 3 years

Text

🎃 Halloween Special 🎃 (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Warnings: none, according to me

Summary: It’s your fifth year at Hogwarts and you decide to change things up a little bit by making a mix between muggle and magical traditions in Halloween.

A/N: Hellooooo, lovelies! I know it's been ages since the last time I posted any of my writings, but I got this idea the other day and I just couldn't let it die in my drafts. It's my first time writing for Draco, so if there's any mistake or stuff way too out of character, please, have mercy on me... 😔🙏 I love you and I really hope you enjoy it! Happy Halloween! :) <3

October was finally coming to its end and Halloween was just around the corner, so everybody's excitement was palpable. The Halloween celebration at Hogwarts was one of the most expected by the students and you were definitely not the exception, nonetheless, after already four years of spending the holiday the wizard style, you were kind of starting to miss the muggle celebrations you were so used to when you were only a child.

You missed the costumes so much. Everything was really cool, but why didn't wizards dress up for Halloween? I mean, can you imagine the possibilities?

And so your idea was born: A Halloween celebration in Hogsmeade with your friends and anybody else who wanted to join, but with costumes, like muggles did. It was going to be a little bit of a mix between the two worlds. And it was going to be fantastic.

"Guys, guys, guys, guys, guys!" you said excitedly on Monday morning, sitting at the Gryffindor table in a rush, "I was thinking, why don't we throw a costume party in Hogsmeade the night of Halloween? It could even be at the Three Broomsticks, if we ask for permission, of course, I gotta check that, but, a costume party! What do you think?"

"You mean like the muggle tradition?" asked Hermione.

"Yes! Exactly! I actually don't quite understand why wizards don't dress up for Halloween, but whatever. I think this would be great!"

"Of course, sounds amazing, (Y/N)! But we gotta plan it very well, so I'll help you with the organisation," said Hermione with a lopsided smile.

"Well, sounds like fun, so count me in," said Ron, "By the way, (Y/N), can you pass me the sausages, please?"

"Sure, there you go..."

"I'm definitely in too. It would be my first time dressing up for Halloween, so I wouldn't miss it for the world," Harry added, "Dudley was the one who went trick-or-treating every year; meanwhile I stayed at home, either inside the cupboard or doing whatever chores my aunt could come up with."

"Blimey, Harry, that sucks..." Ron commented before placing another sausage on his plate, which was already brimming with food. Harry simply shrugged.

"Erm, well, great then! I think..." you paused for a second and then added," Let's tell everybody else!"

"Who are you planning to invite?" Hermione questioned; she was definitely taking this organisation thing very seriously.

"I was thinking of simply spreading the word, so anybody who wants to can join."

"Oh, all right. That sounds fine," she said, although she didn't sound entirely convinced.

"Are you going to invite your boyfriend then?" Ron inquired with a sly look on his face.

"Oh, he's not my boyfriend! We're just... acquaintances... who hated each other in the past... but not anymore..."

He referred to no other than Draco Malfoy, the so called Slytherin Prince. At the very beginning of your Hogwarts days, you honestly couldn't stand each other, with all his arrogance and his superiority complex, however, at some point and for some strange and unknown reason to you, he stopped being an utter arsehole, your mutual teasing became more of an inside joke than actual bullying and you kinda started getting along. At least you were able to be in the same room without trying to hex one another.

"Yeaaah, of course, and who also study together in the library..." Ron continued.

"That happened one time!" you exclaimed, a flush creeping across your cheeks, "Or was it twice?"

"Twice" Harry and Ron answered in unison.

"Actually," Hermione interrupted, "it happened three times if we count the one where they had to work on the potions project together."

"But that does not count! It was a project! We had to!"

"Mmmmm, it counts because you chose to work together" she explained, a sly tone in her voice.

"That was just because he's the only Slytherin I've had an actual, relatively decent interaction with... Seriously, Hermione? That's not even the point here, guys, let's focus. And yes," you said making emphasis en the 'yes', "I am going to invite him, 'cause, why not? He's probably going to instantly reject the idea anyways, you know how he is." You crossed your arms over the table and took a deep breath.

"Wow", said Ron, "I can't believe you actually said all that without pausing to breathe. However," he said emphasising that last word," I'm telling you, (Y/N), you're gonna end up together. But if you're so sure of the contrary, let's make a bet."

"What?"

"Yes, whoever loses will have to do the winner's homework for a week." Ron smirked.

"A week! Are you nuts?" you exclaimed.

"Well, you have nothing to worry about... Unless you do think you're gonna end up being Malfoy's girlfriend..." His smirk widened and your cheeks went a little pinker than they already were.

"All right, fine. It's settled then. I only hope you're ready to do all my homework for a week, Ronald Weasley."

"We'll see about that."

After a busy and tiring week trying to plan an amazing Halloween party at the same time as doing all your class work, Saturday had finally arrived and everybody was filled with excitement. The news of your party had spread like wildfire and soon you and Hermione had to recalculate the supplies you'd need in order to have enough for every single person who wanted to drop by.

Also, you'd indeed told Draco about the party, nonetheless, just as you thought it would be, he didn't seem very excited about the whole idea... Well, yeah, he might have implied that he would never in his right mind attend a muggle celebration like that and that you were nuts to think of the possibility, however!, he didn't really, explicitly say no, so you'd taken his response as a maybe and still hoped he'd go for at least a little while (wait, why were you hoping that? It's not like you cared that much about him attending or not... Right?)

Since you'd been very busy with all the planning, you'd started working on your costume a little bit late, but you were very satisfied with the result: you were going to be Medusa. I mean, she's iconic! Being able to turn people into stone if they look you in the eye? Wicked! (At some point Harry made a joke comparing Medusa to a basilisk, and I mean, sure, but to be honest he really had to work on his humour). You'd even enchanted a diadem with snakes so they moved like they were alive! (Because, come on, you were committed to this holiday, but let's be sensible, you weren't going to wear actual snakes on your hair, there are levels).

The point is that, like everyone else, you were incredibly excited about your party. And also a bit nervous, you didn't want to screw something up, but you also knew not everything could be perfect and what mattered most was that everybody had fun.

"(Y/N)! Are you ready? We gotta get going!" Hermione called from outside the bathroom of your dormitory. You opened the door and stepped out, ready to rock and roll.

"So? How do I look?" you asked, twirling so she could take a look of your whole costume.

"Intimidatingly gorgeous."

"Oww! Thank you! Wait," you said now focusing on Hermione's costume," what are you wearing? No, no, not that, forget that, but why didn't you tell me you were going to be greek goddess, Hermione?"

"For your information, I am Athena," she said and imitated your twirl, "and I wanted it to be a surprise, I kind of got the idea thanks to you, when you told me you were going to be Medusa."

"Well, yeah... It's perfectly okay, but I would've liked to know before! Also, dressing up as specifically Athena is so you, Hermione, and you look gorgeous, seriously, I'm in love with you. Draco Malfoy who?"

"Is that a confession?" questioned Hermione with a sly smile.

"It's a joke" you clarified rolling your eyes but with a lopsided smile on your face.

"Yeah, sure, truly convincing," your friend said with sarcasm "Anyways, we gotta go now, come on!"

And off you went. You met Harry and Ron in the Gryffindor common room (Harry had dressed up as a Gryffindor quidditch player who'd been hit in the head by a bludger, and Ron was simply wearing a Chudley Cannons uniform. Boy, if these guys were obsessed with quidditch...) and the four of you headed happily towards the entrance of the castle, where all the students gathered before going to Hogsmeade. In your way there you were able to see a lot of different costumes from the students who were attending your party and you were deeply amused (and amazed) by they're creativity. Wizards should definitely do this more often.

When you finally arrived to the Three Broomsticks, you found the entire place decorated just as you'd imagined, and Madam Rosmerta (whom you'd previously sent a letter asking for her permission to use the place for your party in exchange of a reasonable amount of money, and she very kindly had agreed and even offered to help you with the organisation and setting the ambience too) was just applying the final touches.

"Oh, hello, dears!" she greeted you with a smile; she really was a very beautiful woman, no wonder why Ron and many other students fancied her, "So? What do you think? Is it like you imagined?"

"It definitely is!" you exclaimed looking around the place in awe, "It's truly fantastic, thank you so, so much! Now all we got to do is wait for everybody else to arrive!"

It didn't take too long before the first group of students entered the place, only a couple of minutes after the time of the appointment, and from then on, people just kept flooding the pub.

"All right, guys!" you shouted over the murmurs of the crowd so everybody could hear you and be quiet while you spoke, "Here's what we've got: You are allowed to order two butterbeers free of charge, however, if you want more you'll have to pay them yourselves. Now, there's relatively decent food on that table," you pointed to the table on the corner at your left side," and in that other table next to the entrance you will find a bunch of various sweets that are definitely unhealthy if eaten in excess, so, please, don't get too excited, people," the multitude before you chuckled and you smiled widely," Also, dear Colin here offered to take pictures of whoever asked him to, so if you want one, just let him now... Ah! And I almost forgot, there will be a costume contest at the end, so be sure to write your name down on the scroll that's on that wall,"you said and pointed to the wall opposite to you," if you want to participate. I think that's all for now, so enjoy the party, and Happy Halloween, everybody!"

The crowd cheered and applauded you before returning to their chatting or heading straight to where the food was. You walked towards the bar to tell something to Madam Rosmerta and soon some upbeat Halloween-themed music started playing. At some point, a few students took a corner of the place as improvised dance floor and, frankly, everything was even better than how you'd pictured it at first. And that was saying something.

"Amazing party, (Y/N)! You should totally do this more often!" cheered Fred and George Weasley about and hour after the beginning of the party. They'd dressed up as some quite creepy zombie conjoint twins and you thought it was brilliant.

"Thank you, guys! I'm glad you're having fun!" you shouted over the music, "By the way, I think your costume is brilliant, suits you perfectly!"

"Thanks! Hope it's enough to win that costume contest of yours, but being honest, there's a lot of competition here," Fred replied.

"Yeah, I mean, just look at your costume! You look fantastic!" George continued.

"Oww, well, luckily for you, I'm going to be a judge, so I'm not participating..."

The conversation went on for a couple more minutes until Lee Jordan called the twins to the dance floor.

Although the party was an absolute hit, you couldn't help but think about a certain someone who wasn't there.

"You look a bit disappointed," said Hermione from behind you, making you jump a bit, "Thinking about somebody who didn't come, perhaps?"

Sometimes it was truly scary how Hermione could know so much.

"What? No! What are you talking about?" you asked trying to brush the topic off.

"Will you please stop trying to deny your feelings, (Y/N)?" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "Look, it's pretty obvious that Malfoy isn't indifferent to you and, to be fair, I don't really mind! I mean, he's been a lot less annoying since you two started to get along a little better, so go ahead if you fancy him!"

"But what if I don't want to fancy him, Hermione?" you exclaimed finally giving in, "He was pretty awful to us in our first years and, yes, maybe we get along now, and he's been a lot better but... I just... I don't know! I guess I feel a bit guilty about it... Besides,he can still be considerably rude sometimes towards people and, even if we left that aside, what makes you think that he could possibly fancy me? I mean, come on, he didn't even come! And I don't... I don't want to be all head over heels for him or anything, and that's also the reason why I keep denying it! If I talk about it, it becomes more real, so maybe if I simply ignore it, my feelings will go away soon enough!"

Luckily for you, you were wearing your green Medusa makeup, otherwise Hermione would have been able to see your cheeks turn bright red.

"Okay, I understand that..." she said, "But I think you got something wrong there, (Y/N), he did come..."

"What?!"

"He just arrived, look, there he is! It's like you invoked him" You turned to look were Hermione had her eyes fixed. And, of course, she was right, there he was. Looking quite dreamy, but you shouldn't think about that, should you? "I'd give you my whole pep talk, but there's no time, you've got more important things to take care of right now. Just, I don't know, let it flow, okay?... But go on, then! Go with him!" she hurried you. You did as you were told and walked towards him changing your mood instantly and pretending that the previous conversation with Hermione had never happened. Just act normal, you thought.

"So you came!" you greeted him once you'd reached him.

"I did," Draco asserted, "Medusa, huh?" he said looking at you up and down with a raised eyebrow and... was that the spirit of a smirk? Once more your makeup helped you hide your blushing and you tried to act like there weren't some butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

...Ugh, this was exactly why you didn't want to admit you fancied him in the first place!

"Indeed," you replied smirking, "And a vampire, eh? Pretty simple if I'm honest, but you look good."

"I always look good, (Y/L/N), but if I'm honest," he said imitating your tone, "you look pretty good too."

"I always look good, Malfoy."

You explained him what you'd told the crowd at the beginning of the party and he decided to order a butterbeer. Then the conversation between the two of you simply kept on going without much difficulty; for some strange reason the fact that you had feelings for him and yet apparently not a single thing in common with him didn't affect your communication.

"All right, but this is insane," he said at some point, " how did you manage to pull this off? I mean, it must have cost you quite a fortune..."

"Well, I did get help from my friends with the budget, but, yes, I had to negotiate with my parents and trade my Christmas and birthday presents of the next year for some money to do this right."

"You're bloody insane..."

"I think you made that pretty clear when I first invited you to come, and yet here you are," you said with sufficiency, "so I guess I'm not the only one here who's gone a bit nuts."

He huffed and took another sip of his butterbeer. In that moment, Ginny Weasley, Parvati Patil and Hermione, who were currently dancing among a bunch of other students, called you and gestured at you to go dance with them. You nodded and turned to Draco in order to tell him that he could stay there while you danced for a while, but before you could articulate anything he said:

"No way you're leaving me here, you're the only person I can actually interact with in a mildly pacific way, so I'm sticking with you."

"Okay... But you're gonna have to dance, then."

"And you think am not qualified for the task?" he asked with his usual smirk.

"Are you really always such a showoff?"

"Only when I'm trying to impress somebody," that answer definitely took you by surprise, but you didn't have the chance to say anything, 'cause he added, "Go on, then, they're waiting for you. I'll go right behind."

And so you danced with your friends. And he danced. And you two danced together. And it was pretty unbelievable for everyone, including you, but nobody seemed to mind since they had never seen Draco in such an unproblematic mood.

A couple of hours later, the costume contest finally took place. The prize for the winner was a special package of sweets you'd prepared plus five galleons... Yeaaah, you'd definitely put a lot of effort in the planning of your party, and it had been completely worth it so far.

All the participants formed a line so each one could walk around showing their costume just as if it were a fashion runway. Meanwhile, you were arranging the seats for the judges. And, as a matter of fact, you had one judge missing. Your intention at first had been that there were four judges in the panel, nonetheless, since both Harry and Ron had declined the offer because they wanted to participate, you were only three: Madam Rosmerta, Hermione and yourself. And all the people you trusted also wanted to take part in it, so it seemed that you'd have to settle with only three judges. Unless...

"Hey, Draco!" Wait, since when did you address him by his first name? Oooh, this was getting out of control... You shouldn't have said anything!

"What is it?" he asked from the seat he had taken at some nearby table, just like all the other students who wouldn't take part in the contest, and were happy to simply watch, had done.

"Well, I was wondering..." you began doubtfully, "if you would like to be a judge too?"

"Me? A judge?" He frowned. "Why?"

"Because I wanted there to be four, but I've got one missing. And I think you'd make a fair judge, as long as you keep your good mood and you're not rude to our contestants... So?" you said bitting your lip.

"Erm, all right. Can't promise I won't be tough on them, though" there was that smirk again.

"Oh, shut up," you said playfully," You can be tough, just not rude. There's a difference."

And so the contest began.

An hour flew by and sooner than you'd expected, you found yourself deliberating with your three judges on whose costume was the best. A task which was pretty hard to do. Harder than you'd expected, actually.

At the moment, you had managed to leave only three finalists, each one provided by one of your fellow judges, and you were the one with the final word. The problem was that you couldn't make up your mind.

"I'm telling you!" Hermione insisted, "Harry's costume should win! It's creative and original and very thorough!"

"Granger, you're only saying that because he's your friend," intervened Draco," but come on! That kid with the Dementor costume? He is literally floating! And he's like in second grade or so! I really think he's the one who should win."

"Well, he definitely portrays a dementor better than you did in third year..." the girl countered.

"All right, guys, don't fight, we gotta make a decision quickly and you're getting on my nerves. Yes, both of you..."

"I still say that those Weasley twins are a lot of fun... They should win if you ask me," Madam Rosmerta mentioned, already losing interest in the matter; looking at three teenagers argue over a costume contest wasn't exactly her definition of "fun".

"Yeah, but they're costume is not as complex as Harry's, (Y/N)!" Hermione reiterated.

"But Potter is not floating, now, is he?" Draco retorted.

"Merlin's beard, you guys! Will you both please shut up?" you scolded, "If I'm completely honest, I wouldn't even consider any of them as my first option, I would choose Padma Patil!" you paused for a second thinking what to say next to state your point, "I mean, she dressed up as Celestina Warbeck! Are you joking? That's bloody brilliant if you ask me! And not only that but she brought Lavender, Parvati and that other girl whose name I don't remember at the moment as her Banshees! Come on! Creative, original... Besides, look at her dress! It looks pretty thorough to me! And yeah, she may not be floating," you added turning to Draco," but she's enchanted her necklace to play 'You stole my cauldron but you can't have my heart' to look like she's actually singing!"

There were a couple of seconds of silence, until Draco decided to break it.

"Then why on earth didn't you say that from the very beginning, (Y/L/N)?"

"Because you were so determined to say who you thought should win that I didn't want to cause more trouble with the decision!"

"Well, as a matter of fact, it makes it a lot easier for me," said Madam Rosmerta, "that girl and her friends were my second option. I simply love Celestina Warbeck."

"She was my third option, so I guess I don't mind," Draco stated shrugging and then leaned back on his chair.

You looked at Hermione.

"Well, yeah... She wasn't in my top three, but it's fine for me", she didn't sound entirely convinced, but it was enough.

"Okay, then..." you said finally, a little surprised by the result, yet satisfied," Brilliant! Then we've got our winner!"

The four of you stood up; Hermione, Draco and you walked to the center of the improvised runway while Madam Rosmerta simply returned to the back of the bar, clearly not wanting to take part in the decision-making of some fifteen-year-olds anymore.

"So, before we announce our winner, I wanted to say something," you began, "As you can see, it was quite difficult for us to make a decision, because all of your costumes are amazing. I truly think so! You're so creative and fun, and believe me when I say that if I had a larger budget I'd probably give prizes to all of you," you chuckled softly, " unfortunately, it isn't the case, so we had to choose only one... Are you ready to know who won?"

The multitude shouted a very enthusiastic "Yes" as response.

"All right, then... Padma Patil, congratulations, you and your Banshees are the winners!"

There were cheers, applause and a few disappointed sighs, but everybody seemed to be as satisfied with the decision as you. You gave the four girls their prize and the music started playing once more. However, the party was coming to its end and a lot of people were already saying their goodbyes and leaving. Therefore, before anything else could happen, you grabbed Draco's arm and dragged him all the way to where Colin Creevy was taking a few pictures of some third year students.

"What are you doing?"

"We're gonna take some pictures," you stated, "I've already got a few with Harry, Ron and Hermione, but since you arrived late..."

He didn't even get the chance to protest, because in that moment the third year students left and you dragged him once more to the spot where they'd been posing.

"What the... What am I supposed to do?" he inquired with a slight note of panic in his voice.

"Dunno, just think of cool poses! We've got two shots, so think fast!"

Your first shot was of you two in an average pose, you know, just smiling, you leaning on his shoulder, his arm around your waist and the butterflies in your stomach going a bit crazier about it.

"What now?!"

"I don't know! It's not like I'm used to doing this!" he exclaimed.

"I thought you were Draco bloody Malfoy, aren't you known enough to get a lot of pictures? You should be used to it!"

"I don't get a lot of fun pictures with weird poses!"

"Well, think of something then!" Colin could do nothing but stare in amusement at your absurd argument, trying to suppress his laughter.

"You think of something!" Draco countered.

"Why am I the one who always has to think of everything? Use your brain, mister!"

And you'd barely finished your sentence when, without a warning and almost against any common sense left on both of you, Draco's lips crushed against yours, his hands grabbing the sides of your face eagerly. Only an instant later he pulled away and looked at you, with his usually pale cheeks coloured in a bright shade of pink and his moon-like eyes reflecting the panic of maybe having done something very wrong. However, he quickly intended to hide it:

"Was that a proper use of my brain, miss?

You were flabbergasted. Totally. The whole night had been utter madness for you since this boy arrived... But it wasn't a bad type of madness, you were delighted. You fancied him. And now you knew that it was mutual.

"Well... Sure... but why did you stop?" you murmured, just inches away from his face, and then smiled bitting your lip. You saw his whole face lighten up as he smiled broadly, just before leaning in to kiss you once more, this time more passionately and intensely than before. You could feel the cold touch of his family ring against the soft skin of your cheeks, contrasting with the warmth of his palms.

The camera flashed and that single incredible moment was captured forever in a picture that would last for a long, long time, kept in scrapbooks and family photo albums.

"Oh, crap..." you grumbled after you pulled away the second time.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, his voice hoarse due to the kiss.

"Now I'm going to have to do Ronald's homework for a week!"

257 notes · View notes

camillemonty · 3 years

Text

Crush

JJ x Reader|Kook

Summary: You just moved to outer banks and you are not so thrilled about your new kook life as your parents and are curious about how your summer will be.

As the summer goes on surprises come along with ups and downs, tears and laughter, new friends and family.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter three - Jealousy

The shopping day with the girls went well, they were fun to be with but at some point it was exhausting, the only thing they talked about was clothes, shoes, and what to post on Instagram. So when the time arrived you got out of the car and waved at them goodbye letting go a sigh you didn’t know you were holding, you walked inside the house with a couple of bags of the stuff you bought and threw them on the floor of your bedroom. After looking for your mom and dad for a couple of minutes you realized you were alone, back in your room you arranged the clothes in your closet. Your parents had not returned home yet so you went out again. You walked through all Figure 8 and beyond until you ran into an ice cream shop, it was almost empty so you took your chance and entered.

You sat at one of the tables outside, the day was beautiful and at that moment you regretted not taking a book with you so you just started scrolling through your phone while eating your ice cream.

On the other side of the street close to the ice cream shop was JJ, he was alone, which was weird, he just wasn’t in the mood today, he kept walking down the street when he saw you sitting alone, it took him a minute to recognize you but when he did a smirk appeared in his face, he would not let this opportunity pass. So he came close to you, but you didn’t notice until he talked.

“Princess” he said standing right in front of your table.

You looked up to meet with his eyes “hi” you were confused about his presence.

“Eating ice cream alone? That’s kinda sad” he sat at the table.

“I like my own company” you ignored his glare and looked at your phone.

“Oh I see, the princess does not need their kook bitches all around her” he teased.

“Could you not call me that?” you roll your eyes “I mean I’m sorry for yesterday but I have done nothing to you”

He laughed “One you moved in, two you are the new Kook princess, and three you are friends with Rafe” he counted with his fingers.

“Well one I had nothing to do with the moving decision, two I’m not the princess of anything and three I’m not friends with Rafe” you mimic him.

With the faint of a smirk on his lips and ignoring your attempt of mocking him, he leaned over the table, getting closer to you, you straightened your back at his closeness but he didn’t move, and with his lips now in your ear he whispered: “then why is he coming here?”

You tilted your head so you could look at him, confusion running through your eyes; he smiled at you with his face still close to yours and stood up.

“Sup kooks?” he said to the boys behind you.

You turned your head and saw Rafe, Topper, Kelce and Liam, “great” you thought.

“What are you now? The fantastic four?” he joked “Well not fantastic, maybe assholes suits you guys better” you had to keep your lips sealed not to laugh “Know what? I really don’t give a fuck” he shrugs “see you around princess” he said at you and walked away.

It happened all so fast that the boys were still trying to find the words to reply at the insult, Rafe and Topper face was red with anger, Kelce couldn’t care less, he was looking at his phone, but the sight in Liam's face, he was mad at you, you rolled your eyes, knowing that he was going to scream at you later, he was a jealous person, and you hated it.

“What were you doing with him?” Rafe grumbled.

“I was alone actually, he just came and sat” you keep eating your ice cream, trying not to make this a big deal.

“You better stay away from him” said Topper as the four seated with you.

You rolled your eyes at him “Your problems with them are not my problems” you saw Liam narrowed his eyes “I don’t even know the guy why would I hate him?”

“We are just warning you” Kelce spoke “they aren’t worth the trouble”

You nodded with annoyance, hoping they will leave it there. Liam didn’t say a word about it, which was weird; the four guys kept you company and took you back home, ending your walk.

JJ entered the Chateau with a smile on his face, Pope and John B were there, he sat on the couch and stretched his arms around his neck.

“Dude where were you?” Pope asked.

“Just walking”

“Why? Are you high?” said John b.

“Not yet” JJ chuckled “I was just pissing out some kooks, you know, my favorite sport” They both laughed “well no, my favorite is getting girls in my bed, if you know what I mean” they rolled his eyes on JJ.

“Gross” the two friends said.

“Talking about kooks we meet Y/n yesterday at the Kegger” said Pope.

“Who?”

“The new kook, the one that moved to Carter’s house”

“Oh the princess” JJ laughed “yeah I meet her too”

“You did?” John B asked confused.

“Yeah she and her boyfriend interrupted me with the touron yesterday” he sat with his elbows on his knees and started rolling a joint.

“She is really nice actually” John B spoke.

“Yeah she even played beer pong with us” Pope said.

The sound of the door distracted all three, it was Kie.

“Hey guys” she said sitting on the kitchen counter “what are you talking about?”

“Y/n” Pope answered “JJ met her”

“Really?” she asked and JJ nodded, lighting the joint.

“I was pissing her off today at the ice cream shop” he said letting the smoke out of his lungs.

The other two looked at him in confusion “I thought you said you met her yesterday at the Kegger” spoke John B.

“I did, I just saw her again today and decided to go bother her a bit, but then Rafe and the others arrived”

The three friends shared a glance between them.

“So you like her” Kie stated.

“What? No” JJ said “She’s a kook”

“A kook you met yesterday and are already pissing her off” Kie laughed and JJ rolled his eyes.

“Whatever” JJ rolled his eyes again and gave the blunt a smoke.

The sun was setting and inside the Chateau the party was on, music out loud, drinking and smoking, Kie was dancing at the table as the guys screamed at her, it was all laughs and fun. John B's phone started ringing.

“I’ll be back in a minute Sarah wants me to go pick her up” he said.

“If you go in the boat it will be faster” Pope pointed.

“I’ll go with you” said JJ and winked at Pope.

“Yeah we will be back in a minute you two continue the party” he saw between then and mouthed to Pope “Go for her”.

“At least bring more beer” said Kie.

“Count on it” John B winked at her and went out the porch with JJ following him.

“You think he will make a move on her” JJ asked.

“Don’t know man” John B started the boat “I knew he liked her but never thought he will do something about it”

Pope was right as always and they arrived at Sarah’s house fast, she was already waiting in the dock with two six-packs of beer. She jumped in the boat and kissed John Bs. JJ winked at John B and throws him a kiss, making him laugh. They were going to start the way home when screams cut the silence, they saw at each other confused, trying to know who was screaming.

“Look” pointed Sarah “it’s Y/n”

The guys looked at where Sarah was pointing and saw you and Liam in the backyard of your house, close to the dock, you two were screaming your lungs out, the three were frowning at the fight you two were having without understanding a word you were saying.

Sarah gasped loudly in surprise and covered her mouth with her hand.

“Dude!” said John B.

“What the fuck” Spoke JJ, anger running through his veins.

You were on the floor with your hand on your cheek; your eyes wide open as the shouting pain in your face grew. “What the fuck just happened” you thought, Liam was still standing in front of you, in shook for what he just did, he has slapped you right in the face with all his strength, you tasted the blood from your broken lip, tears burning the corner of your eyes, but you resisted them you weren’t going to cry. You stood up by yourself rejecting Liam's hand.

“I’m so sorry y/n” he said immediately.

You looked at him and noticed the red eyes you didn’t notice before, he was drunk and there was something about him that made you think he was also high, but not for weed. He took you in his arms, hugging you, but you didn’t hug him back, you pushed him away seconds after and said goodnight, walking away and inside the house, he stood there a couple of minutes and then started walking home, but ended up with Rafe, again.

In the distance the three in the boat saw everything; still shocked about it, when Liam was gone John B started the way back home.

“We all saw that right?” John B said after minutes in silence.

“I can’t believe it” Sarah spoke.

“That fucking kook” JJ sigh running his fingers through his hair.

“That fucking idiot was doing shots with Rafe an hour ago” anger in Sarah's voice.

“If he was with Rafe then it wasn’t only shots what they were doing” said JJ.

They knew he was right, that was the last comment the entire ride back to the Chateau. They jumped out of the boat and walked inside without saying a word, the music was still loud, Pope and Kie were sitting on the couch.

“Finally” said Kie smiling but the look on their faces made her and Pope worried.

“Dude what happened?” Pope spoke.

“Yeah did someone died or something?” said Kie.

The three saw each other, waiting for someone to talk first “We…” John B started “We just saw Y/n’s boyfriend hit her”

"What?” Pope and Kie screamed.

“What the hell… where?” Kie asked.

“We were right in front of her house when we heard the screams and then he hit her” continued Sarah.

“Oh my god… poor Y/n” Kie said.

JJ didn’t say anything; he just clenched his jaw every time the scene went through his head. After a couple of minutes in shock, the five started to drink again and continued the night laughing and drinking. But JJ couldn’t forget the scene.

When you were in the safety of your room you let the tears out, you felt horrible and your face hurt like hell, you went straight to the bathroom end gasped at your reflection, your cheek was still red and the left side of your lip was swollen, you felt weak and powerless. Slowly you took all your clothes and went inside the shower, the hot water washing everything away. You knew Liam was a jealous person, this was not your first fight out of jealousy but he had never hit you before. You started remembering the whole thing.

"Y/n you can’t hang out with them” he said “you don’t want these Pogues around you like Topper said they are low life people they are not worth it” there are those words again.

“Stop saying that” you said “besides I don’t care what Topper or Rafe say”

“Why not? They have been nice to us; you are just being an ungrateful bitch”

“They have been nice while talking shit about other people” he rolled his eyes “And I don’t know if you are too drunk to remember but if I’m using the terms right, you were Pogue before you arrived here”

He clenched his jaw “But I’m not one anymore”

“And it’s so hypocrite of you that you insult them” you huffed “you became a perfect kook, but maybe I don’t want to be one”

“I see what is happening here” he came closer to you.

“You do? Then tell me please”

“You like that blondie”

“Oh my god” you sigh and rolled your eyes “are you serious?”

“Yes I’m serious” he screamed.

“You are out of your mind! I only ran into him, it’s not like I was looking for him” you tried to reason with him.

“You like that miserable Pogue and don’t tell me you don’t” he kept screaming, rage taking over him.

“Stop calling them that” you screamed back.

“See, you are defending him” he yells.

“I’m defending someone who has done nothing wrong!” you shake your arms in the air.

“I saw the way you looked at him today, I’m not stupid y/n!” he shouted.

“Stop being so fucking jealous of everyone!” you screamed.

“I saw the way he leaned on you, you didn’t even move, instead you let him whisper in your ear” he came closer “I knew you were a slut” he shouted.

You laughed, you had enough of this “I bet if it had been Rafe you wouldn’t say anything”

“Rafe will never do that I’m his friend” he said “The blondie instead, I bet you are waiting to cheat on me with him, that fucking Pogue!” He screamed.

“Oh my god you are so full of shit, you are a totally different person” you yelled, fingers tugging of your hair.

“Maybe this is me, maybe I had to come here and meet Rafe to realize that” he throws his arms in the air “but you… I knew it from the beginning you were a whore” he screamed pointing at you with his finger, getting even closer.

“Realize what? That you are Rafe’s little bitch?”

And then he hit you, you felt it in your cheek like if it just happened. You stepped out of the shower and put your pajamas on, you saw your reflection again, for a second you felt bad for what you said to him, that it wasn’t his fault, that he was drunk and maybe high; you knew he will be all day apologizing for what he did if he remembered, but you couldn’t forget it, you don’t know if you will forgive him, it was all too much. You lay on the bed hoping to fall asleep fast, you were so tired, and you did, in a matter of minutes, you were sleeping.

You woke up at your phone ringing on your nightstand, it was Liam, he has already called you four times, so you picked up.

“Yes”

“Y/n thank god, I came by your house and your mom told me you were sleep, I thought you were avoiding me” you rolled your eyes.

“No I’m not Liam, that’s why you called?”

“No, I… I wanted to invite you to give a stroll, just the two of us, promise” you sigh and he heard “please say yes” he begged “I’m so sorry for yesterday I just want to have a nice day with you, my girlfriend” you sigh again and thought twice about it, but you knew that he wouldn’t stop until you accepted.

“Ok” you said.

“Perfect, thanks, see you in thirty?”

“Yes”

You hanged up and sigh, you rubbed your eyes tiredly and got up from bed to get ready, your reflection was better this morning you felt rested, but you couldn’t forget what happened, the scene went through your mind almost every five minutes, and the cut on your lip wasn’t helping. You wanted to feel pretty today, not for Liam but for yourself, you deserve that, so you put on your favorites high-waisted shorts and a blue crop top, you put on makeup and your favorite necklace, you saw your reflection again, this time smiling; finally you put on your favorites vans. Downstairs you saw your mom, when she asked for the cut on your lip you said you didn’t saw the door, apparently, she believes it, she knew you were distracted sometimes; you ate and waited for Liam to arrive. The doorbell rang so you stood up, knowing it was him.

“Ready?” he said when you opened the door, he got flowers “wow y/n you look amazing” you gave him a fake smile “this are for you” he hands you the flowers.

“Thank you” you place them on the table at the entrance and closed the door behind you “let’s go”

You were walking around with Liam and couldn’t help but notice that people looked at you, not because you were pretty, they looked at your swollen and broken lip, even the other boys, they looked at you and then stopped on your face, frowning, you rolled your eyes, wanting this to be over and go home.

And then he threw all the plates in the air, my dad was so mad” Kie said laughing; she was talking about a customer from this morning.

“I would’ve loved to be there to see it” Pope said.

“No you don’t, I had to clean it” Kie rolled her eyes “hey you guys want ice cream?”

“I could eat an ice cream” Pope said.

JJ and John B nodded in response, Kie smiled and grabbed Pope's arm leading the way to the ice cream shop. The two friends saw at each other.

“You think he told her yesterday?” JJ asked.

“I don’t know he hasn’t said anything”

John B went inside but the shop was full “I’m going to look for a table outside, you know what I want” JJ said and John B nodded.

Already seated JJ was tapping his finger on the table, waiting for his friends when he overheard your name.

“Y/n do you want an ice cream?” he looked at you two in the distance, you were on your back “well I’m going to the bathroom wait for me here” you nodded, he saw Liam come inside and stood up immediately, coming towards you, his eyes scanning your body, you looked different and he couldn’t help but bite his lip.

“Princess” he said, you rolled your eyes with a smile “we have to stop meeting this way” you turned around and he stopped, his gaze on your lips, he felt anger at that moment but he had to play dumb “wow what happened there?” he touched the spot on the cut in his lips.

“I was distracted and didn’t saw the door” you said the same lie you told your mom.

“Really?” in his mind the scene repeated again “It almost looks like someone hit you” he frowned.

You laughed; nervous “Maybe next time someone asks I’ll say that, it’s more interesting”

“Yeah I mean, I get in fights a lot and I always end up with a cut like that in my lip” he shrugged his shoulders like it wasn’t a big deal.

“Oh” you mumbled and he realized you were nervous.

The other Pogues went out of the shop and saw JJ talking to you, they looked at each other and went towards you two. Kie was the first one in saying hi, followed by Pope and John B, they all looked at your lip, but John B was the only one that asked.

“You ok?”

“Yeah I didn’t saw the door” you shrugged your shoulders; they looked between each other but didn’t say anything.

“y/n” Liam said getting closer, everyone turned around to see him when he saw the blonde, whose name you don’t know yet, his jaw clenched, you closed your eyes for a second hoping he wouldn’t do a scene right here right now, he gave them a fake smile and arrived at your side, putting his arm around your waist, you also put on the fakest smile, you could cut the tension with a scissor if you wanted to, it was all so awkward. John B and JJ stared at Liam, while Kie and Pope looked at you.

“Well see you around guys” you said.

“Yeah see you” the three replied, the blond was quiet.

When you were giving you back at them following Liam he spoke “actually there is a Kegger tomorrow, at the Boneyard, if you two want to come” you turned around and smiled, not faking “you can tell Rafe and his friends too” he added.

“Thank you I’ll give the message” Liam answered and dragged you away.

“Dude what the hell was that about?” John B questioned.

“Yeah man what the hell?” Pope said.

JJ was smiling, a smirk on his face, thinking about a plan he could only understand, he shrugged his shoulders as a response, and the three rolled his eyes at him.

“Here your ice cream is melting” Kie handed him the almost melted ice cream.

Liam drove you home in complete silence, you were a little surprised, you expected screams after he found you with the blond and his friends. He parked in front of your house and reached the hand that was in your leg without looking at you, you turned over him and a couple of seconds later he did too.

“I love you” he said looking at you right in the eyes, the words coming out of his mouth for the first time, but something inside you knew he really didn’t felt them, the lack of emotions in his face was obvious.

You leaned over him and kissed him, he didn’t move “see you tomorrow” you smiled and he nodded.

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

Hope you like it. Feel free to leave feedback.

I don't have a tag list but since someone asked to be tag, I'll make one, so just let me know if you want to be tagged.

:) <3

@pink-meringues

179 notes · View notes

seijorhi · 3 years

Text

asks :))

what i have learned today is that y’all wanna get fucked by some monsters...

What does nostos mean? What language is it in? 🤔 also I of course loved it, mind blown as usual queen

it’s ancient greek! it means homecoming, the idea of a triumphant return home for the hero after a long journey. i found it through looking at the root of nostalgia. in this fic of course it’s kind of a grim tongue in cheek play on it. the reader’s coming back to the mountains, but she’s running away after a bad breakup, and the welcome she gets is... shall we say less than ideal haha

Just read nostos-

First of all as a person who reads monster shit- hell ya. Mhm. That’s some good shit right there. That was DELICIOUS horror. It actually had me a bit nervous and afraid to read what was gonna happen next 😳

Secondly- omg I wanna know what happened next (at the end) 👀 know what I mean??? 😼

ANYWAY AS ALWAYS you never disappoint and your writing is fantastic (if/when you write horror yandere stuff again I’ll be there- frothing at the mouth. A+++++ work ILY💖)

you want me to write the monster porn, just say it bby ghfjdkshgfjkd but ty

Omfg that fic was so good!

Did the readers mom know about monster kuroo?? Or was she just worried because of the previous murder? And did Kuroo somehow manipulate reader into coming back to the forest or was it just a big coincidence? (👁👄👁 there's no such thing as a coincidence)

Looking forward to your future work <3

ty nonnie!! i didn’t have the right space for it, but after kohsuke was ripped apart and eaten kuroo stayed by the reader’s side until late in the night, only disappearing when he heard the reader’s parents/search party approaching. they found her lying in pools of blood (and scattered half eaten body parts), shaking and unresponsive – they knew no animal could’ve done something like that. so they knew something lurked in those woods, but considering the reader had repressed the memories, her mom couldn’t just come out and say it <33

You are an AMAZING horror writer!!!

The uneasiness I got from the conversations with the mom is just *chefs kiss*

A+++++

ahh thank you!! horror is such a hard genre to write because i’m never sure if the suspense and everything’s gonna hit right haha

I read Nostos before going to sleep last night and at the time I was like “sure hope this doesn’t give me nightmares” and thankfully it didn’t lol. But I think I’m willing to take that chance again because it’s so GOOD and I think I’m just going to have to relive it – @ohno-otome

fhdjgbfhjkdfn i’m glad it didn’t give you nightmares bby!! but i also appreciate that haha, i’m an absolute wimp with scary movies and stuff but i just can’t stop watching them haha

I just wanna say that I was listening to "You're a psychotic villain playlist" on youtube while reading Kuroo's oneshot and I can't explain the emotions I felt, but I'd let Kuroo do things to me asdfghjkl – @itishebihime-samaforyou

ooh nice! sometimes the right playlist makes things doubly as fun haha

OH MY GOD!?!?! Nostos was soooo GOOD?!?!? Like it was so creepy (but in a good way), and scary and suspenseful!! And the ending!?!? Omggg honestly one my fav fics from you!! You did my mans Kuroo justice 🥺💖💕

TYYYYYYY i was genuinely concerned i was gonna scare everybody off haha

Ah! The new fic! Chiefs kiss! Magnificent! Bravo!🧚‍♀️✨🧞‍♀️🦖🦭🌹💫

tysm nonnie!!! <33

i’m pretty sure i’m in the same/similar timezone as you? and i do be staying up late to be one of the first to read your fics (i usually stay up late anyways). so imagine my surprise when i see you post in the afternoon. in conclusion, whether you post to align with your european and american readers’ timezone, my gmt+10 arse will still be one of the first to read your fics. also nostos sjdufigyyjf i have to admit, i recently just found out about monster fucking and nostos scratched the itch😫 i feel bad for kohsuke though

bby i always post at like 2-4 in the morning please get some sleep!! the fics will be there in the morning lmao. i kinda low key forget about my aussie/gmt+10 followers because i think there’s like... 3 of you haha

Honestly if i could give u a dollar everytime i got off to your fics, you'd probably be rich by now

lmao the idea that people find my fics hot enough to get off to still blows my mind lol

your newest kuroo fic was so SO good!! its totally okay if you dont want to answer this so you can keep things ambiguous but is monster kuroo planning on killing the reader after he's...done with them

thank you, bby!! but no, monster kuroo isn’t gonna eat her – he’s had plenty of chances to do that if that’s what he wanted, but he has other plans for the poor reader

RHI, I WANT TO STATE FOR THE RECORD THAT I AM OKAY WITH MORE MONSTER FUCKING IN THE FUTURE. i also want to say im not a monster fucker, but that just feels like a lie at this point. okay, now that that's off my chest, i love it. the mystery, the connections of kuroo to a cat. kuroo's probably gonna go and batter around his prey once they're under his grip like my cat does. hopefully the reader will come out somewhat unscathed, if they are ever allowed to leave 😌 love this, love how different it is, the way kuroo just tries to weasel in. very monster and yandere vibes, very you. have i said i love this yet?? id willingly let him get me drunk on his cock, maybe never leave the peace of the mountains again

‘i want to say that i’m not a monster fucker’ bby the denial will get you nowhere haha. just lean in and embrace it hgfjkdlkfgjnkdl ahh but thank you this is such a sweet ask ILY!!!

Omg omg the monster thing kuroo was in ur latest fic is so familiar to me abdhdmfnjfjf. I remember being told abt a monster with VERY SIMILAR characteristics to it (aka the not being able to go inside a house unless invited and using fire to lure ppl out) AND JFC IT TERRIFIED ME. Esp how when i told ppl around me and they didnt recognize what it was, but it was somehow known to the kid that told me abt it.

(Some ppl thought it was familiar but still didnt know what it was)

Do u know what im talking abt? Hopefully u do

-🥚

GHFJDK so the monster in this is kind of based off the nekomata spirit in japanese folklore - they can appear like people, torment victims by reanimating the corpses of their loved ones, they’ve been blamed for forest fires, so it was just fun to use that as a basis and then go buck wild haha. anyway thanks for the ask bby!

Rest In Peace Kohsuke, you would’ve loved Haikyuu season 5😔✊– @joyvstheworld

poor kohsuke deserved better, i’m just mean to the oc’s i throw into fics haha

Monsterfucking ❤❤❤❤❤❤ a little annoyed you're making me simp for yan Kuroo though (a vibe tho tbh). You're so extremely talented!!!! &

This is probably a stupid question, but how did Kageyama react when he couldn't find y/n? How is life with yan Suga? I imagine probably awful BUT yknow maybe the stockholm syndrome set in fast lmao. Sorry, I'm going on a binge reading your stuff. - @oracleofdin

i will not apologise for making you simp for kuroo he deserves it the man’s a snacc. and as far as your second question, suga’s a very caring, very smothering kinda yandere, so i guess in some ways it’s better than what the reader had with kageyama but... pick your poison haha

That was so good. I’m so shook rn I can’t comprehend anything but how good that was and how good a writer you are

TYSM NONNIE!!! <33

Ok, so, I just read Final Girl and the lil' ticket addition to it and just---

Well, ok I've been playing Dead by Daylight a lot lately? And I'm just picturing Tetsu as the newest killer "The Trickster" and I'm positively RANDY.

Your writing is ALREADY thirst inducing and just as satisfying, but this has SENT ME- If you're not familiar, please...

https://youtu.be/iowkiPobYYQ

Understand my thirst. (I'd also like to clarify, I use a different skin for him that gives him black hair and he looks like Kuroo with an undercut.)

~ @the-casual-hedonist 🌸

i love how feral y’all got for final girl kuroo. like bo and akaashi had his fans, but i put a spiked bat in kuroo’s hands and y’all lost your goddamn minds and i love to see it. fghdjkvhfjdkls thanks for the ask bby

idk why but I love preggo reader as long as I don't pretend it's me 😢✋ I hate babies n pregnancy anywhere else other than horny haikyuu fics

i think that’s a valid thing for a lot of fans. the idea of breeding is sexy, the actual getting pregnant and having a kid thing... not so much. but especially with non-con scenario’s, it’s more about the aspect on control than the actual desire to have kids. but yeah, i feel you

Sorry to bother but uh was just wondering in fracture did Osamu kill his wife or was it actually an “unfortunate event” ? Love your work btw!!

he most certainly did :))

LMFAO RHI i totally get not liking cheating/infidelity fics (towards reader) bc IT HIRTS ME SO BAD I CANNOT HANDLE THOSE.

id be reading fics those fics like: tf you mean my yandere aimt gonna baby me and only want me??🤨🤨🤨⁉️‼️

EXACTLY! listen i get that it’s a fucked up fantasy, but in my fucked up fantasy you damn well better have the decency to be loyal smh

Finders keepers is the most beautiful thing I've read by you: I read it twice like I normally do and here's what I figured out the second time (that's when I analyze it and find the little tidbits of things that are much darker than they appear (: )

To start I LOVE THE DETAILS OF THEM NEVER TEACHING READER ANYTHING- at first I assumed "oh they might see her as a little sister or child or something" but realized thAT WAS THE ISSUE!! they infantilize her and isolate her from everyone but her group. the small details like that are what make the story amazing 😎💅

ahh thank you so much, nonnie!! pls this is making me soft 🥺

I just wanted to stop by and say that I love your writing and I hope you're doing well!!! Drink plenty of water and keep up the amazing work :) but seriously you're one of the best fanfic writers I've seen on tumblr! I read your "Imitation" piece about kuroo and i keep coming back to it, it's so good! I did want to ask if you think it'd be possible for the reader to ever escape with the baby (or at least attempt to). Or if Kenma would "help" at all just to put an end to kuroo's antics lmao

kenma would in no way help the reader, and tbh by that point if kuroo did get her pregnant, she’d be far too emotionally dependant on him to actually even want to leave, but thanks for the ask!

You know who I think would be a perfect Yandere in the JJK world? Choso.

🚨Spoilers Ahead🚨

After being locked in a glass jar for however long he was, and all that happened with his brothers, I feel like he would absolutely never let his darling out of his sight. He would be possessive. Obsessive. And Oh So delusional. Sure he’d be your anything - he truly is a softy - but to what end?🤤

choso would make an excellent yandere, ngl 😌

what au/troupe of your fav character(s) that you have written do you like the most?

(rlly hope this makes sense🙏)

i am always a slut for soulmate au’s :))

#ask #anon #rhi answers #ohh so many asks #i love you guys <33 #fic q's

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zeldasayer · 4 years

Text

I transcribed and translated Pedro’s interview from GQ Germany for all of us. I tried translating as good as possible but bear with me, English is not my mother tongue. By @sixties-loser

Pedro Pascal, the star from “Game of Thrones”, “Wonder Woman” and “The Mandalorian” talks about becoming an adult, film, fashion, corona – and a painful surgery in the exclusive GQ interview.

It seems almost eerie how empty the streets of LA are in the sunshine. Meanwhile a new normality seems to be coming to Europe, most people in L.A. are still cutting their own hair. Many have not seen their friends for half a year. The pandemic is out of control. The reaction towards it too. Inviting someone into their garden for a “distance drink” can cause the same distress as suggesting to switch spouses.

Therefore, it was particularly surprising that Pedro Pascal immediately accepted. He accepted the drink, not to switch spouses. He is one of the rising stars and newcomers this year – if it wasn’t for corona sending the whole film industry into a forced vacation, there would most likely not have been time for said drink. After having his skull crushed in “Game of Thrones” followed the lead role as a DEA agent hunting Pablo Escobar in “Narcos” in 2015 and now he is stepping towards big Hollywood films. From the 1st of October onwards the Chilean-born actor will be starring in the blockbuster “Wonder Woman 1984”. Moreover, the second season of the “Star Wars”-series “The Mandalorian” on Disney+ starring him as the lead is going to air in October this year – but he will be underneath a helmet. Well, we all are under a helmet in 2020 in one way or another. We want to meet the man who a few years ago still worked as a waiter in New York, whose parents were political refugees who found asylum in Denmark and settled in Texas and whose son one day signed up for a theatre group in High School.

Then, the cancellation! While we were in the middle of fixing up the house and the garden for the drink with Pedro and organizing the fashion shoot, which was not easy considering the safety measures in L.A., his management called with an unfortunate message: Pedro – no, not sick with corona – had to get emergency surgery because of a damaged tooth and was lying in bed with a swollen face that was hindering him from speaking and taking pictures. The sun is shining onto empty streets. And our empty garden.

A few days later he nonetheless arrived at our front door without a swollen face but still with threads in his mouth. He was not chauffeured by a limo-service but he came with his own car – he even picked up his make-up artist. He is helping her carrying all of her utensils into the house and declares: “I’ve got time today!”. What a celebrity! It seemed like we did not want to ask him how he made it to the A-List of Hollywood but he wanted to ask us how we made it to the A-list. Pedro Pascal! Yes, what kind of a celebrity?

Pedro Pascal: Sorry for messing with your plans. The surgery was an emergency.

GQ: Really? We were wondering whether the swelling wasn’t the product of a secret visit to the plastic-surgeon. Apparently, they are drowning in work because of the quarantine in Hollywood.

PP: I have to disappoint you. A few days before our appointment I was rushing to the hospital with a fractured tooth and the worst pain in my entire life – a hospital in which treats people with severe cases of corona. I was unable to reach any dentist! Right in front of the parking lot a specialist called me back. The pain was hell despite the ten injections I got. The doctor said I was not an exception because a lot of people are grinding their teeth because of all the stress.

GQ: What are you most afraid of at the moment?

PP: How the government is handling the pandemic is worrying me more than the virus itself. This shortage of intelligent management of the crisis is a moral shame. The leadership crisis in this country is turning us all into orphans – destitute and abandoned.

GQ: How did you spend your time over the last few months?

PP: I spent it with frozen pizza and sweatpants in Venice Beach. I live in a rear house that’s in a family’s garden. Actually, there are a lot of good takeout places nearby but for some reason I just love pepperoni pizza from the supermarket.

GQ: That does not really sound like movie star-lifestyle. What does it feel like being suddenly stopped from top speed to zero?

PP: Regarding what is going on around the world one should hold back one’s own mental turmoil. I would be lying if I was saying that I am not disappointed. The whole team put a lot of heart and work into the production of “Wonder Woman 1984”. We had a lot of fun on set. I wished to travel around the world and introduce the film with the same lively energy.

GQ: You come from a politically engaged, socialist family that fled from the Pinochet-regime in Chile. What do you remember from that time?

PP: My sister and I were born in Chile but I was only nine months old when we first found asylum in Denmark. From there we quickly came to San Antonio in Texas where my dad started working as a doctor at the university clinic.

GQ: Texas is not known as a socialist utopia. How did you assimilate?

PP: San Antonio is not a Cowboy-town but very diverse with big Asian, black and Latino communities. I remember it as a romantic place, culturally open. The culture shock only came as we later moved to range county in California. There the atmosphere was suddenly white, preppy and conservative.

GQ: How were you received in California?

PP: I’m still ashamed of the fact that I did not correct my classmates when they kept on calling me Peter. I am Pedro. Even if I didn’t grow up in Chile the country and the language are still a part of me. I was very unhappy in that environment. However, I was fortunately able to go to another school close to Long Beach where I felt more comfortable. Through the theater group at that school I found my way.

GQ: Were you able to visit Chile as a child?

PP: Yes, when my parents made it to the list of expatriates that were able to travel to Chile without consequences. First, there was a big family reunion and then my sister and I stayed there for a few months with relatives while my parents went back to Texas. They likely needed a break from us. They got us when they were very young, had a buzzing social life and my mother was obtaining a PhD in psychology.

GQ: Was your mother a typical young psychologist who wanted to apply her theoretical knowledge at home?

PP: You mean, whether I was her guinea pig? For sure! I remember strange tests and sittings that were disguised as games where someone was watching me react to different toys. I cannot have been older than six but I was already aware of the dynamic. My favourite thing was being questioned about my dreams. That was a wonderful opportunity to come up with fantastic stories.

GQ: Was that your first performance?

PP: Of course! My mother worried about my strong imagination because I was living in my own fantasy world rather than reality. I hated going to school. I was always categorized as the troublemaker. At one point, the topics at school became more interesting and my grades also went up. There are so many kids that are unnecessarily diagnosed with learning disabilities without considering that school can be abhorrent. Why is it so accepted to be bored in class when there are so many stimulating ways to convey knowledge?

GQ: Considering al that has happened this summer around the world: Do you believe that we can seriously demand social change now?

PP: I Hope so. After lockdown, the first time I went out was to protest for “Black Lives Matter” on the streets. The energy was peaceful and hopeful until the police provoked severe conflicts. Nevertheless, we cannot run from problems like we used to this time and we cannot distract ourselves from them either. It seems like the pressure of the pandemic led to a new clarity: We cannot go on this way.

GQ: The “Wonder Woman 1984” Trailer revives the optimism of the 1980’s. From today’s point of view, it seems almost nostalgic.

PP: That’s right. You really are happy for two hours. The director Patty Jenkins created a film full of positive messages. We shot in Washington D.C., then in London and Spain – this sounds like I am talking of a past time.

GQ: Do you miss traveling?

PP: I’m just now realizing the privilege of just packing up one’s stuff and being able to fly anywhere. An American passport used to guarantee unlimited travel. And that’s why it the small radius of our lives is actually unimaginable. Over the last years I often retreated for a break after shootings because I was constantly on the move and overstimulated. My friends were already complaining I had become too comfortable. We all took social contact for granted and are only realizing now how dependent we actually are on human contact. Over the last weeks I often longingly thought about all the parties and dinner invitations I declined.

GQ: In L.A. people spend more time at home or nature than in other metropolises that are more geared towards public life. Could this city become your second home after New York?

PP: My Real Home are my friends. I have been a nomad since I was little and I do not have a place where I have put down roots. Up until not long ago my physical home was a place in between departure and arrival. Therefore, it was something I did not want to complicate through the accumulation of stuff. On the contrary: Without having read Marie Kondo’s book I have freed myself from excess baggage over the last few years and I lived relatively minimally.

GQ: Is there nothing you collect or something you just can’t throw away?

PP: Books! I even still have the literature I read when I was a teenager and when I was in college. Recently, I stumbled upon a box full of old theatre manuscripts and materials from my time at the New York University. I also cannot part from art easily, just like I cannot part from lamps or old photos. On the other hand, I can easily get rid of furniture and clothes.

GQ: Do you remember roles that were really only completely defined through the costume?

PP: Yes, I am particularly thinking about “Game of Thrones”. At that time I understood for the first time what it meant to be supported by a look. This is thanks to the costume designer Michele Clapton. She created very feminine robes and brocade coats for my character that nevertheless looked masculine when worn and I felt very sexy in them. Of course, Lindy Hemmings power-suits and Jan Swells bleached hairstyle for the tycoon-villain in “Wonder Woman 1984” were very important as well. At first I did not really see myself in the role because the cuts and colors of the 80s do not really fit my body. I’m more the 70s type.

GQ: Do you incorporate those inspirations into your personal wardrobe?

PP: In my free time I choose comfort over a cool look these days. Sometimes I miss the times when I expressed myself through a certain style. It is hard to imagine that I went to Raves as a teenage in the 90s; I was a real club kid with ridiculous outfits: overalls, balloon pants, football shirts and a top hat, like in Dr.Seuss’s “Cat in a Hat”. Later in New York I was hanging out with a group of people that felt it was very important to have a certain style. The fact that I am basically only wearing sweatpants everyday is actually tragic.

GQ: whoever plays roles in comic book adaptations becomes a bodybuilder and eats ten chicken breasts a day. You don’t?

PP:My body would not agree with that. It is hard enough to stay in shape normally. When you’re in your mid-forties you have to live with a lot more discipline. Up until before my tooth-incident I worked out with a trainer in my garden multiple times a week to keep the quarantine body in check.

GQ: Apart from the personal trainer, are you in a steady relationship?

PP: I am not ready for that yet. Maybe at some point I will be but until then I’ll let it be. I can’t even offer you absurd corona dating stories.

GQ: What would annoy you the most if you were your own roommate?

PP: I can be quite controlling. I have to conjure all my humanity to prevent myself from going through my entire film collection. When I don’t want something I cannot keep it to myself or be passive-aggressive, I always have to take it to the frontlines. Other than that, I tend to have tunnel view: when I am not feeling well I cannot imagine to ever feel better again. I have trouble relativizing my emotions or to wave off problems. Method-acting would really not be for me. This is why I try to only work on projects that feel good, where there is mutual support and encouragement.

GQ: When we were trying on the clothes earlier you spoke of a lack of self-confidence. How does that get along with a career like yours?

PP: Isn’t it interesting how these characteristics and circumstamces relate? Self-worth comes from inside but it is also influenced by what society values because we often internalise the public gaze. I have lived in New York for 20 years, I studied there and made a living by working as a waiter until my mid-thirties because the theatre and film jobs I got did not pay the bills. There were so many times I was almost there. The disappointment of having missed the perfect role or opportunity by a hair’s width can be crushing. When should you give up and what is plan B? That is a question that is not only on many actors‘s minds but also on many others minds who struggle for a living – no matter how much potential they have or how close they seem to be to the top. We are seeing now how our narrow definition of success destroys society. At the same time, we are realizing that where we come from and the color of our skin still decide whether we can exist with dignity.

GQ: What are the positive aspects of a relatively late success as leading-man?

PP: I feel like I can decide over my own life without the pressure of having to accept projects or to have to present a certain identity on social media. This is for sure also because I am a man. Regardless of age, Women have to try harder to stand out.

GQ: Life always consists of risk management – now more than usual. For what would you risk losing something?

PP: Generally, when you never risk something you might never get ahead. That is for friendship, love, work and creativity. I have to be ready to take risks for the things that really matter to you.

#pedro pascal #THANK YOU MY LOVE!#submission

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bluebirdsbluebells · 4 years

Text

You Get What You Get - part one

Summary: One mistake. One little mistake. That was all it took for everything to suddenly flip. You knew that you should’ve stayed in that night, and you were right from the beginning. You should’ve never let the blonde from the beach walk you home, you were paying the price for it.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader (Topper x reader too but it’s not romanticized like at all)

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: swearing, angst, Topper being a control biatch, fighting

My masterlist!

A/N: okay so I know that I just started the “Made You Up” series like a week or two ago, but I finished Outer Banks and I’ve seen a lot of really great fics on here, so I decided to write one of my own! I haven’t seen many on here where the Obx crew are actually going to school, so I thought that I would incorporate that into it heavily. It’s going to take a little bit for JJ and Y/N to kind of… get familiar with each other so please be patient; this chapter was just more about introducing Y/N and a snippet of her life. Hope you guys enjoy it! My writing is still a little rusty…

_______________________________________________________________________

Seven times. That’s how many times he had asked you. Seven times. Topper wouldn’t quit it. Over and over and over, and by the fifth time you were starting to get a little peeved. It wasn’t that you didn’t like partying, but you had schoolwork to do. Loads and loads of schoolwork, and the deadline was Sunday night. That was the next day. You didn’t have time to follow Topper and his crazy ass friends to some kegger on the beach; grinding down on the work was the only thing that mattered to you. All you needed was a set of good headphones, a big glass of ice water, some chips and salsa, and you would be set for the night.

But Topper just wasn’t letting up.

“Please Y/N?” He begged, bringing his hands up to your shoulders. You groaned under your breath as you stepped back. His hands slid down your arms, and then they fell to his side. “Please?”

“Topper,” you sighed heavily. “We’ve been over this. Last week I had two overdue assignments. I don’t want Mrs. Markey to-”

“You’ll have plenty of time to get them finished tomorrow, okay?” He pleaded, but you just shook your head, sinking down in front of your desk. You had left the curtains open, and in the horizon you could see the sun was beginning to set. It would be only a matter of time before it would be too late to head out. Surely Topper would give up at some point, but then again he was a pretty stubborn guy. Seven months together and he had proved that to you thoroughly.

“Topper, I’m serious,” you said, shaking your head at him again. His shoulders sank as he stared at you, and then he glanced to the side as if he was trying to keep it together. You knew that he was upset, but you also knew that you couldn’t just leave.

School was your top priority. It was your junior year after all; the hardest grade so far. That was what everyone had told you when you were still a sophomore, and boy were they ever right. You had thought that the tenth grade was tough, but junior year had really shown you every trick it had up its sleeve. Assignments due almost every weekend, tests and quizzes nearly every week, endless amounts of studying and review, countless flashcards to be made… you just couldn’t keep up. But with your parents being on the wealthier side, you knew that you had to try and make them proud by creating a solid future for yourself. Nowadays it seemed like grades were the only way to really get their attention. It wasn’t their fault -- they were busy people -- but over time it had taken a little bit of a toll on you.

“Y/N,” Topper started again. “I just don’t think this is very fair.”

“Fair?” You asked, craning your neck around to give him a look. “I have grades that I need to keep up with Topper.”

“You have a ninety-five average, you’ll be fine,” he answered shortly, his head dropping slightly to the side as he looked at you. You could see the tense flex of his jaw when he spoke.

“It took a lot of work to get where I am,” you replied, turning back to the books and papers in front of you. With your thumb you pulled open your laptop and punched in your password, but just as you were about to begin on your first assignment the screen was slammed shut.

“Hey!” You yelled, looking up at Topper with a glare.

“It’s one night,” Topper said, his brows drawing together. “Come on.” “I said no.” “You’re being stubborn, Y/N. I only want what’s best for you, okay? And going out to have a little fun would be good for you.” You frowned at him. “Good for me?” “You haven’t been out in ages. I’m just trying to look out for you! I want to make sure that you keep up your social life.” “My social life?”

“You haven’t gone out with me in over three weeks.” Topper stared down at you hardly, and you felt your shoulders sag. It was true, you hadn’t been out with him in ages, but to be fair you had been busy with volunteering and working and school. There wasn’t much time for anything else.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.” “Do you not like spending time with me anymore?” Topper asked, and your jaw dropped open with shock at the accusation.

“No! That’s not it! I said that I was busy with-” “I think you’re putting school before me.” You exhaled slowly, trying to control the emotions that you were feeling. Frustration was slowly bubbly up inside of you. He just didn’t get it. His parents would probably pass everything down to him. He probably wouldn’t have to work a day in his life. Even though your parents were ‘rich’ they weren’t making things easy for you. They had made it very clear that if you wanted something, you would have to work for it just like everyone else. In a way you admired them, because you knew how hard they worked to get where they were too.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea tonight, that’s all. If it was any other night, I would’ve gone. I’m sorry Topper.”

He rolled his tongue along his teeth, then let out a snort of a laugh. “You say that every fucking time. If you don’t want to be with me anymore, just tell me. In order to be in a relationship you kind of need to see the other person.”

There was an angry pit that was beginning to form in your stomach, and then all of a sudden you were on your feet, staring up at Topper with frustration and guilt. “Fine!” You snapped. “I’ll go.”

You hated giving Topper the satisfaction that he had won you over yet again, but you knew that if you didn’t play the good girlfriend role, the night would be a whole hell of a lot worse. You didn’t have much of a choice except to climb into the backseat of Rafe’s fucking whatever kind of new car -- BMW most likely -- that he had and plaster on a fake grin.

It seemed like the ignored homework was already starting to have its effect on you, and you could feel the weight as you stepped out of the car and out onto the sand. You didn’t know where Rafe parked it, but you knew that you were absolutely not going home with him. You didn’t mind plenty of things, but drinking and driving was one that you just couldn’t condone.

“Oh fuck yeah!” Topper yelled as he spotted the roaring fire. His hand instantly snaked its way around your waist, and you were pulled tightly against his side as you headed towards the beach, following the sounds of the laughter, music and shouting.

You were always shocked that these kinds of things rarely got shut down. They were loud, messy and at least one fight always broke out. Normally between a Kook and a Pogue, but sometimes it was just playful banter between friends that turned into something else very quickly. Keggers were just wild in general. You didn’t hate them, but you could think of a few different preferred ways to spend your evenings, your homework being one of them.

“Topper?” You heard a voice from behind you, and Topper spun around, causing you to be dragged along as well. You were met with the grin of Kelce, one of Topper’s other friends. Kelce wasn’t as bad as Rafe, but he wasn’t fantastic either. None of Topper’s friends were anything special, but you would never dare to say anything.

“Kelce,” Topper greeted under his breath, as if to say ‘you son of a bitch’. “Knew you’d be around here.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Kelce replied, slapping Topper on the back. Your boyfriend's grip loosened on you, and you looked around, trying to see if you could spot any more familiar faces. Your two best friends -- Emerson and Scarlett -- had said that they were probably going to hit the kegger, but it was unlikely that you would spot them. The darkness was taking over the place quickly, and even with the roaring fire it was tough to make out exact faces.

You were a little tense at the beginning of the night, mostly because of Topper’s friends, but as soon as you got a beer in your hand you loosened up a little. Topper and you even danced a little bit, which made you laugh a little more than you thought it would, but the moment was quickly ruined when Rafe pulled Topper away, saying that he needed to show him something. After getting yourself another beer, you followed absentmindedly, and the sight that you were met with was one that you didn’t think you’d see. “What are you doing?” You asked Topper as he pressed his nose down to the hood of some random parked car. Coke. Cocaine. He was doing drugs, right there in front of you. “You want some?” Rafe asked, raising one brow as you stared at the two boys. You glared at Rafe, then looked back at Topper, who wiped his nose quickly before rocking back on his heels. He hooted out, and Rafe began to grin as he slapped his back, congratulating him. You shook your head at the two of them, feeling a pit starting to grow in your stomach. “You dragged me all the way out here just so that you could ditch to do drugs?” You asked, and your words were cold, but they were also laced with the slightest hint of disappointment. It wasn’t anything that you hadn’t expected from Topper, but it still was disheartening to see.

You had never done anything other than smoked weed, and you hadn’t planned on doing anything worse than that.

Topper seemed to snap out of his excited state, and he narrowed his eyes at you. “You didn’t have to follow us.”

You snorted. “I meant to the kegger, not here. Jesus Topper.”

Rafe and him exchanged glances, and then Rafe shook his head at you.

“Let the boy do what he wants, would you?” Rafe scoffed, and the comment made you tense up. Oh, how you wished that Topper would let you do what you wanted. Why was it always about him?

“I’m gonna go,” you mumbled, backing away slowly, and Topper rolled his eyes at you, a laugh escaping from his lips.

“Oh don’t be so uptight Y/N!” He yelled, but you had already turned and were headed back to the party. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone, mostly because the chances of it being worth your time were slim to none, so you started towards the water. The amount of people dwindled the closer you got to the ocean, and you were grateful for that; just a few couples making out here and there, but it wasn’t an issue to you. It was more peaceful with the waves and the moon -- which was only partially hidden behind a cloud.

You sank down in the sand, liking the way its coolness grazed your legs. You were definitely buzzed from the beers and shots that you had taken, but you weren’t bad enough that you couldn’t make it home. You knew you would be fine.

“Shit!” Someone cursed behind you, and you turned your neck, frowning slightly at the racket. A boy was stumbling through the grass, a beer in his hand. It sloshed out of the bottle with every step that he took, and it looked like he was swatting at something… or stumbling over something? You couldn’t really tell. “You okay?” You called, and the boy looked up, his face pinched up as he tried to find the girl who matched the voice. “Shit!” Was his only reply, and then he darted out of the grass, stumbling down the sand and damn near running you over.

“Jesus!” You muttered, scooching away from the boy. He looked around him once, then twice, then his eyes landed on you. He ran one hand through his messy blonde hair as he stared down at you, as if he was trying to see if he recognized you. “What happened?” You asked when he didn’t say anything, and then you looked back towards the grass, trying to see if someone else was there, but you couldn’t spot anyone.

“Well,” the boy started, and then he plopped down beside you, only a few feet away. “I was taking a piss and then I see something moving in the grass. You know what it was?” He glanced over at you, then placed the bottle up to his lips, taking one quick swig before continuing. “Fucking snake.”

Your eyes widened, and you brought a hand up to your mouth.

“No way,” you said, and he nodded, brushing his hair back from his face. You then squinted at him, because he did look familiar. The blonde hair, blue eyes, muscle tee and cargo shorts with scraped up black boots. You recognized him from school. You couldn’t quite remember his name, but you knew it was something short… Joe? No. You shook your head at yourself, and the boy looked back over at you.

“What are you doing out here?” He asked, face scrunching up at you. “Party is back there sweetheart.” He flicked his thumb over his shoulder, and you looked back towards the crowd. Your cheeks got slightly red at the pet name, but you brushed it off.

“Just needed some air,” you replied, shrugging slightly as you wrapped your arms around your knees. “What, the air over there wasn’t good enough?” The boy asked snarkily, and you rolled your eyes at him, glancing over once more. “Funny,” you commented. “Don’t know, I had a lot of homework to do and-”

“Homework?” The boy asked, his eyes widening as his eyebrows shot up. He then clicked his tongue at you, his tongue swiping out over his lower lip. “I wouldn’t be so worried about homework if I were you.”

You rolled your eyes at him again. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Oh really?” He asked, and then he twisted his body to face yours. “Try me.” You opened your mouth, then closed it again. How would you explain everything? It was just mainly your parents, but it was also you. The pressure that you put on yourself; your need to feel accomplished; your need to feel good at something. All your life you hadn’t really felt like you had a knack at anything. Some people in the obx were good at surfing, or good at fishing or drawing or singing or golfing. You didn’t really have anything like that, so you just always turned to school. Your grades felt validating, and therefore you felt validated. It was a hard situation to explain to a boy that you vaguely recognized, and it wasn’t one that you really talked about.

“I’m waiting,” he said, and then pretended to check an imaginary watch.

“I just like school, that’s all.” You shrugged, trying to play it off. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“Don’t get invited much?” The boy teased, and he poked the tip of his boot against your flip flop. You swallowed hardly, shaking your head at him defensively.

“Not true!”

“Oh.” The boy smirked at you, and he placed the bottle in the sand beside him. “That’s the real winner.” “It is not!” You defended, crossing your arms over your chest tightly. “I get invited to plenty of things!” “But don’t like them?” He narrowed his eyes. “Sounds fishy to me sweetheart.” “Don’t call me that,” you snapped, and he only grinned back at you. The flash of his wickedly straight, white teeth seemed to flick a switch inside you, and you suddenly realized where he was from. Rafe’s sister Sarah was dating one of his friends. The friend was John B, and the boy in front of you was JJ. JJ Maybanks. He was one year above you, and you knew he had some classes with Topper because Topper had complained about him before. “Those trashy Pogues,” Topper would say. “I’m going to slaughter them all one day. Especially that fucking JJ.” He was a troublemaker, that was for sure. Always getting kicked out of class or scoring himself a detention. That was when he actually showed up to school. Him and John B used to skip all the time, but ever since John B started dating Sarah he had spontaneously decided that he wanted to better his education. Not for JJ though.

“I recognize you,” you blurted, and JJ cocked his head, a light hum of curiosity escaping his lips. “You’re JJ.”

“Am I?” He replied, wiggling his eyebrows, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Even though you knew that he wasn’t the best kid, you felt comfortable with him all of a sudden. A lot less tense than you had been with Topper and Rafe.

“You’re in senior year.” “Kind of.” He shrugged, and you frowned at him.

“Kind of?” “When I show up,” JJ replied smugly, and then he gave you a quick wink that made a blush creep to your cheeks. “Thought I hadn’t seen you around much,” you answered, and he smirked at you, brushing his blonde hair back out of his eyes.

“So you look for me then? Makes sense sweetheart, I would look for me too.”

“I-” “Now I know you’re walking the halls though…” He shrugged, “maybe I’ll show up more often.” The back of your neck got hot, and you opened and closed your mouth. You probably looked fucking stupid, but you didn’t know what to say back. In the pit of your stomach you felt a tiny flip, and you didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or his response. There was no way that he didn’t know who you were. It was a cocky kind of thing to say, but if Topper knew him, he definitely knew Topper, and if they both knew each other, the chances of JJ knowing you were pretty high. You had never really had a conversation with him before; only ever really seen him in passing, so you weren’t sure, but Topper made it pretty clear to everyone that you were his girl. “I should get going,” you blurted suddenly, and JJ let out a laugh. It was low and rumbled from the back of his throat, and all of a sudden there was a shiver that shot down your spine. You stood up quickly, brushing the sand off of your shorts. JJ stood up too, doing the same to his own clothes.

“I can walk you,” he said, and it was more a statement than a suggestion. “T-that’s okay,” you started, glancing over your shoulder. You had no idea what Topper was doing, but you just prayed that he wouldn’t notice you slipping away. He would most likely bash you about it the next day, but you didn’t care. You had had enough of the kegger anyways.

“No, it’s seriously fine,” JJ replied casually, and he tilted his head at you. “Unless you’re scared?” “Scared of you?” You snorted. “Why would I be?” “Cause I’m a Pogue and you’re a pretty little princess Kook.” You frowned at him, slightly taken aback. There was always banter between the Pogues and the Kooks, but it had never really mattered to you. Of course you should’ve known that it would’ve made a difference to JJ though. Him and his friends were all anti-pogue. Well, that was until it came to Sarah. You really had no idea though.

“Of course,” you replied shortly, rolling your eyes again. “Well, a Kook girl needs to get back to her homework. So if you would please excuse me, I need to get out of here.” “You’re excused.” JJ bowed in front of you, and you let out a short giggle, then bit your lip, trying to hold it back. That was definitely the alcohol. “But I’m coming with you.” “You can’t!” You replied, and you started walking backwards away from him, but he followed, holding his hands up in defense. “But I can,” JJ said, and the right side of his mouth perked up into a lopsided grin. “Literally try and stop me baby. You can’t do it.” The name made your stomach flip, but again you brushed it off. You turned away from him and began walking along the beach, but you could hear him following you; kicking sand around and throwing rocks. “So why were you really hiding?” JJ finally asked after a good ten minutes of silence. You were about another ten minutes from your place. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, tipping your head back to look up at the sky. A few clouds drifted past, but it was mostly clear. A nice night. You wouldn’t be closing the curtains, you knew that for sure.

“I think you do,” JJ answered smugly, and you glanced over at him. He had jogged to catch up with you, and he was running his fingers through his hair as he spoke. “What happened? Your friends ditch you? Had a bad trip? Some crazy bitch try and hit on you?” You laughed. “Yes to the last one. He’s trying to follow me home.” JJ gave you a look to that one, and you let out another laugh, starting to relax again. You were worried that Topper was following you, or that Rafe would drive up in his fucking BMW and just slaughter the two of you, but it was nothing but a worry. Topper probably hadn’t even noticed that you had left, and Rafe was probably too high to even step inside his car. “I’m being serious,” JJ continued. “What happened?” “I’m being serious too! I was having a great time sitting in silence, and then all of a sudden this weirdo-” “Hey!” JJ nudged you lightly, and your skin got warm at his touch. “I’m the one trying to keep the weirdo’s away, alright?” “Alright,” you answered, giving him a bit of a side-eye. He was grinning to himself. “And seriously, I didn’t want to go in the first place. It was time for me to leave.” “Someone must’ve made you go though,” JJ said quietly, and he kicked a rock along the sand. “Topper?” Ah, so he did know.

“Uh yeah,” you mumbled uncomfortably. “He did.”

The houses were beginning to get larger, and you knew that you were getting closer to your place. Fairly soon you would have to tell JJ to leave, just in case Topper or someone was waiting. You just couldn’t risk it.

“There she is!”

Oh fuck.

You spun around to face the road, which was a good fifteen feet away from the beach, but still giving Rafe and Topper the perfect view of you and JJ. You felt your stomach drop to two things. Rafe driving was the first, but the second was the argument you knew would be coming. There was no way Topper would be okay with you walking home with some other guy, especially not JJ. “Topper,” you breathed, and then you turned to JJ, shaking your head at him. “You gotta get out of here.” He frowned at you. “Why? I can take ‘em.” “No!” You said a little too forcefully, and JJ cocked a brow. You heard a car door slam, and turned around to see Topper stumbling around the side of the vehicle. He was heavily under the influence, it didn’t take a genius to see that. You could practically smell the liquor on his breath.

“Who’s that Y/N?” He yelled down at you. He wasn’t even that far away -- maybe ten or fifteen feet -- but you knew that the low lighting mixed with his state was preventing him from seeing anything.

“Your cockblock!” JJ yelled before you could usher him away, and you saw as Topper tilted his head, his face twisting up in confusion.

“JJ? Is that you?” He yelled. “I’ll beat your bitch ass up!” “Oh really?” JJ called back, and he winked at you, sending a new wave through your body. A wave of fear. “If you can take me.” “JJ just walk away please,” you said, holding out your hands to try and steady him, but he was already making his way towards the car. Topper was doing the same; barrelling in your direction, fists clenched.

Even though you saw his arm swing up, you didn’t actually think that Topper would hit JJ. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, but then again it moved so quickly. One minute JJ was beside you, and then the next minute he was ramming his fist into the side of Topper’s face.

“Stop!” You yelled, and your stomach twisted up into several knots at the sound of the bone on bone contact. You rushed up the sand, and then through the grass, wondering what the hell you could do to stop them. Your mind was hazed, and you couldn’t seem to figure out anything, so you just kept yelling. “Topper stop that! JJ get off of him!” You tried to grab Topper’s fist as it swung back, but he was too strong, and it just slammed into JJ’s jaw. You could see the dark liquid that began to drip from his nose, and it made your knees go weak.

“You hit even worse when you’re wasted,” JJ whispered sharply at Topper, and your boyfriend let out an angry grunt, his knee ramming up into JJ’s stomach. You yelped out as JJ doubled over, and Topper jammed his knee into the side of the blonde’s face. “Topper!” You shrieked, and then you sunk to the ground beside JJ, your hands instantly grabbing his shoulders. You tried to get a better look at his face, but he shielded it from you, and you saw the blood that dripped off his chin and onto the grass. It made your stomach churn. “Get away from him Y/N,” Topper said lowly, and he grabbed your bicep, pulling you away from JJ, who was gasping on the ground. You tried to yank your arm out of Topper’s grip, but he only tightened it, his nails digging into your skin. You winced lightly, and he pulled you behind him. “No!” You yelled as Rafe’s arms wrapped around your torso. Your feet lifted from the ground, and you tried to kick back at Rafe, but he was holding onto you tight against his chest.

“Get just in the fucking car,” he muttered, throwing open the back door and trying to force you inside. It wouldn’t have mattered who the victim was in the situation; you hated seeing people hurt, and in that case, JJ was the one that was hurt. You knew that Topper could get angry, but you didn’t expect him to throw punches so openly in front of you. And hard ones too. You should’ve just denied letting JJ come along with you. You should’ve been harsher to him, then maybe he would’ve been okay.

“The fuck you doing with my girl, huh Pogue?” Topper growled, kicking JJ lightly in the side again. You watched as JJ looked over at you, then up at Topper. He sucked in a breath, then spit out the blood that had been collecting in his mouth. “Wow Topper,” JJ replied coldly. “How’d you ever manage to score her? Gave up your life insurance? Forfeit your pension plan? Paid her parents? Or maybe-” “Shut the fuck up!” Topper yelled, ramming his foot into JJ’s side once more before spinning on his heel. Rafe managed to finally get you into the back of the car, and he slammed the door quickly, narrowly missing your fingers.

You watched as Topper stormed around the side of the car, and when he climbed inside you knew that it was over for you.

“Fucking drive,” he spat to Rafe, who whistled lowly under his breath. “Topper I-” “I don’t want to hear it,” he cut you off, malice in his voice. “I can’t fucking believe you.”

You dropped your head, your heart sinking. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what to think. It had all happened so fast. And JJ… it was all your fault. You shouldn’t have listened to Topper in the first place. You knew that staying at home was the best option, and you were paying the price for being right.

#jj maybank #jj #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj fic #jj fanfiction #jj imagines #outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagines #fanfiction #yougetwhatyougetseries #bluebirdsbluebellsfic

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youreacowgirllikeme · 3 years

Text

Intoxicated

note: this was a request from @dappertapper69 , I hope you like it :)

words: 4238 (oops)

warning: alcohol, swearing, smut, unprotected sex (pls don’t do that) hope that’s it

“Focus, damn it! “you told yourself, hastily writing down some notes on your tablet before looking back up to where your boss was standing in front of the white board. It was the daily morning meeting, so you still were a bit tired, but that’s what coffee was for and it was certainly not the reason you weren’t able to pay attention.

It was him, your boss. Right now, he was showing some poll graphic, but your eyes were fixed on his muscular arms and rolled up shirt sleeves. He looked so good when dressed casually, the top two buttons of his dress shirt were undone, and you desperately wanted to run your hand into the neckline.

Yes, your boss was hot, but he was also really intelligent, kind and funny to no ends. The whole package, and your crush on him was big.

But your boss was also Jake Tapper, the lead anchor of CNN Washington, and there was no way he would ever see you this way. No, he was your mentor, and you basically owed everything you had right now to him.

You’ve met about a year ago at a debate Jake was moderating. Covering the event had been the first major job you’ve gotten from the newspaper you we’re working at back then, and while you weren’t really satisfied with print media, you had to take what you could. But meeting Jake had changed your life for real. You had started talking about what you were currently writing about, and you showed him some of the freelance articles you had done in for various political blogs.

He had liked your work, you exchanged numbers and two weeks later, a job offer from CNN Washington was on your desk, assistant producer for The Lead with Jake Tapper. You had to read the letter three times before actually believing it. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and you had no doubt who was behind it.

You didn’t hesitate for a moment, you directly called Jake to confirm, and two weeks later you were all packed up and ready to move to DC.

Jake went above and beyond to make sure your transfer was smooth in every sense, he helped you find an apartment, gave you a two-hour long office tour on your first day of work and regularly checked up on you in the first weeks to see if you were adjusting. He still did that, to be honest, even now that you’ve worked here for months and had learned the ropes.

But you didn’t mind at all, you have learned so much from Jake, journalism-wise as well as when it came to politics, history and literature. His general knowledge was so impressive, another thing that made him so ridiculously attractive to you.

But considering all the facts, jeopardizing your entire career by making a move at Jake was just impossible. But Lord, you wanted to.

You were so caught up in daydreaming that you didn’t even notice that the meeting was over, everyone already left except for Jake. He was packing up his stuff and looked over to you.

“Y/N, everything alright. You’ve been really quiet today, and you look exhausted. Is there something you need?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

Bless his heart, you thought. There was definitely something you needed from him, but you would not go there. And it wasn’t like you could tell him that the reason for your exhaustion was the wet dream you’ve had of him last night, one that made you wake you up drenched in sweat and with soaked panties, unable to fall asleep again.

So you just dismissed him. “I’m fine, don’t worry. Just a lack of sleep.”

“You know you can always come to me when there is something up.” Jake said, putting his hand on your arm in what was meant to be a friendly gesture, but just got you even more worked up. You had it bad for the man, and that was why needed to get out of this situation right now.

“Of course, I know.” You gave him a tight smile, hoping he would buy it. “But I really need to go now, lots of stuff to do. I’ll see you.”

Later that day, when you were alone in your office booth, you texted your friend who was working in another department of CNN.

I def need to let off some steam tonight. Club? Xx

She texted you back a couple of minutes later.

Run in with the hot boss again? ;) But sure, let’s do it xx

Even though it was a weekday, the club was bursting with people. You already were on your third or fourth round of shots, and the base was humming through your body, blasting away your worries.

You dragged your friend over to the dancefloor when you heard your favorite song starting to play, the alcohol creating a warm and fuzzy sensation you totally got lost in.

+++

When you woke up the next morning, you regretted every decision you ever made. You didn’t remember how you got home last night, and your head felt like someone had smashed it in with a hammer. And on top of all, you were late for work.

When you finally got the office, everyone was already coming out of the morning meeting. You carefully made your way inside the meeting room, where Jake was still packing up his stuff, as always. As you approached him, your heart almost jumped out of your chest, as it usually did when you were alone with him, but now with the added fear of his anger.

But when he glanced up and saw you, he looked…relieved? You were confused, you had expected a telling-off, but he appeared as if he was happy to see you.

“Thank god you’re alright, Y/N, I was so worried when you didn’t show up this morning.”

It was when he took a closer look at you that he noticed your appearance, and undoubtedly sensed the alcohol still lingering. He had a very keen sense of smell, something he told you a while back. You swallowed when you saw his expression shift from friendly to irritated.

“You’re hungover.” He stated matter-of-factly, his voice cold.

“Jake, I’m really sorry, I-“you began to apologize, but he was not having it.

“Look, it’s really none of my business how you decide to spend your free time, but I expect you to act professional when it comes to the job, and that doesn’t include showing up late and hungover. I will let this one slide, but this happens again, and we have a problem, am I clear?” he was definitely angry, and you should be intimidated my that. You really felt remorse, but seeing Jake worked up like that also made your stupid brain come up with thoughts of him throwing you on the desk of the briefing room and working out his frustration on you.

“I said, am I clear?” Jake asked again, you had clearly zoned out again.

“Yes, sure, clear.” You said in a small voice, now immensely ashamed that you had disappointed Jake, after everything he had done for you.

“Again, I am really so sorry.” You called after Jake as he was making his way out of the room, but he just dismissed you with a wave of his hand.

The thoughts you had about Jake didn’t leave your mind for the rest of the day. You wanted him so bad and seeing him constantly when he was so out of reach was getting harder every day. You desperately needed to clear your head, the only way you knew. So, against your better judgement, you texted your friend again, and a couple of hours later you found yourself in the same club, drunk and dancing without a care in the world.

You almost hated how much you needed this, the music, the people surrounding you, the alcohol flowing through your veins, making you forget everything.

You lost count how many drinks you’ve downed, but you lost sight of your friend as well, so you decided to go outside for a smoke and some fresh air.

You picked your phone out of your pocket to message your friend when a fantastic idea hit you.

Why not call Jake? You were having a great time, and it only made sense that you should share it with him, because you really liked him, right?

“Y/N? It’s the middle of the night, what’s wrong, did something happen?” a still sleepy, but increasingly alarmed Jake asked from the other side of the phone.

“Hiii Jake, oh my god, I’m having the best time ever here, it’s so fun, you should come too! C’mon its Friday, you should party a bit.” You basically screamed into your phone, your voice slightly slurred from too many drinks.

“Shit, it’s Friday morning, which means there is still work tomorrow. Wait, are you drunk? Where are you?” Jake asked, his voice was full of anger now, and under normal circumstances you would be really worried about that, but right now, you did not care a single bit.

“Oh, I’m at that great new club downtown, it’s called the red…I can’t remember, something with red, and the people are so nice, but I lost my friend, so I think I’m going home soon.” You rambled on, the alcohol loosening your tongue.

“There is no way in hell you’re going home like this, Y/N. You stay right where you are, I’m coming.”He definitely sounded infuriated now, and even your intoxicated brain understood the instructions.

“Alright, Jakey, I’ll see you.” But he had already hung up.

You kept aimlessly walking around in front of the club for a while, making drunk small talk with other club goers, when suddenly, someone grabbed your shoulder and yanked you around. It was Jake, tired looking and with a deep frown on his face.

“Jaaaaaake, you came!” You exclaimed and threw your arms around his neck. He stiffened against you and softly pushed you away.

“Y/N, you’re wasted. Come on, I’m getting you home.” He said, voice leaving no room for arguments. He grabbed you by the wrist and basically dragged you to his nearby car, pushing you into the passenger seat. When he leaned over you to buckle your seatbelt, he came incredibly close to you, and again, you spoke without thinking.

“You smell so nice, Jake, like a forest.”

He just gave you a puzzled look and walked around the car to get in the driver’s seat.

The drive to your flat passed in tense silence, you were busy staring at Jakes hands angrily gripping the steering wheel, wondering if they would feel as good around your neck as you imagined. You could feel a tingle between your legs and started squirming a bit, until Jake grabbed your bare tight just below the hem of your skirt and snarled “Stop moving like this, I have to focus on traffic.”

You had to stifle a moan at his rough touch, but if he noticed he didn’t comment on it.

When you finally arrived at your building, Jake had to support you while getting into the elevator and to your door, you weren’t that steady on your feet anymore and by now, more of a tired than a giddy drunk.

“That’s mine.” You said and started fumbling with your keys. “You wanna come inside?”

If you had been sober, you would’ve noticed the pained expression that flashed over Jakes face just before it hardened again.

“No, I certainly won’t come inside, but this is what you are going to do. You will drink a glass of water, brush your teeth and set your alarm, so you will be on time at work tomorrow where we can discuss” he gestured angrily between the two of you “whatever this stunt was. Understood?”

“Yes.” You answered meekly “and thank you for taking me home!” you called, but Jake was already on his way back to the elevator.

+++

When your alarm woke you up only a few hours later, you felt like hell. And that was because you could remember everything. No blissful blackout this time, you were able to recall every vivid, horrible detail of how you had made an absolute fool out of yourself in front of the man you admired most in the world. You owed him one hell of an apology, and you were not really sure how to go about this.

You entered the office like a beaten dog, shoulders hanging and praying to the gods you looked better than you felt. Jake ignored you in the morning briefing, so you stayed behind to face his wrath. When you were finally alone, you spoke first.

“Jake, about last night, I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am. Not only did I act extremely reckless and unprofessional, but I also took advantage of our friendship, which is something that a value more than anything. I accept whatever repercussion you see fit, I just hope you can see how sorry I am.” By the end of your little speech you were almost crying, your disappointment in yourself and your fear of Jakes reaction were making you physically sick.

Jake stayed silent for what felt like forever, and when he finally spoke, your anxiety was almost killing you. “Yes, I am immensely angry about what happened last night. But most of all I’m worried. The Y/N I know doesn’t act that irresponsible, getting absolutely wasted two nights in a row. I went to talk to your friend down in the sports department earlier this morning. I know, that might be considered unprofessional, but she’s just as worried as I am. She told me you’ve been drinking a lot lately, and always more than you should. What is wrong, Y/N, what are you hiding from me?”

That was the perfect timing to tell him everything, how he was on your mind all the time, how you wanted to kiss him, touch him, be with him in every way possible, so bad that it was keeping you up at night or haunted your dreams. But you couldn’t, there was too much on the line.

“Nothing, work is just stressful, I’ve been working overtime so much; I had to blow off some steam. I’m just sorry I dragged you into this.”

Jake stepped closer to you, and you could feel your heart speed up at the way he was looking at you, something like heated curiosity on his face.

“So, this has nothing to do with the way you threw yourself at me last night, or how you told me I smelled nice?” he asked, his deep voice making goosebumps break out all over your skin. “Or with the fact that you tried to invite me into your apartment?”

“Jake, it’s not how it looks like, I swear. I won’t bother you like this again, ever, I promise.” Your voice starting to become panicked, this couldn’t be happening, he couldn’t know.

But Jake just chuckled and leaned down to whisper into your ear.

“I think I know exactly how this looks, Y/N.”

He took a step back, suddenly looking calm and collected again, as if the moment you just had never happened.

“I have to go now, but I see you tonight. The office party in the bar down the road, you remember? I expect everyone to at least show up for a while.”

Great, you thought, having totally forgotten about the event. You just wanted to curl up in bed and feel sorry for yourself, but obviously that wasn’t in the cards for you today.

And so, a couple of hours later you found yourself in said bar, surrounded by your colleagues. You already had a short talk with your friend, ensuring her that you weren’t mad that she talked to Jake, you were convinced it came from a place of concern.

You kept it at two drinks, but it was enough to lighten your mood a bit. Jake was talking to someone in another corner of the room, and he looked fantastic with a casual blazer and no tie. There were moments when you felt like he was watching you, but you were never able to make eye contact and were too shy to approach him directly.

It got late and people were starting to hit the dancefloor. You decided to give it a go as well, and soon you were totally lost in the music.

Suddenly, you felt a set of strong hands on your hips and the presence of a warm body behind you. You spun around to tell whatever creep decided to grope you to let it go when you saw that it was Jake. He was smirking down at you, moving his body to the music. You weren’t sure what to do, you were incredibly nervous, but having him close felt so good. Deciding to be brave, you just took his hands and put them back on your hips, giving him a small nod. His grin broadened and you could see his eyes sparkling in the dim light of the dancefloor. He pulled you closer until your bodies almost were almost touching, you put your hands around his neck and started to lightly move against him.

Jakes eyes were darkening as he looked down at you, and his grip on your hips tightened noticeable. Being the center of his attention like that, in combination with the pulse of the base and the pleasant warmth of the alcohol in your system made you slightly lightheaded, you felt like you were in your own little bubble, just you and Jake. You started to lightly gyrate your hips, and you could swear that you heard him groan over the sound of the song playing. He pulled you even tighter against his body, by now you were grinding against each other, never leaving each other’s eyes, and your body felt like it was on fire. The tension between the two of you was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Your faces were coming closer and closer to each other, and your heart was basically jumping out of your chest by now, when suddenly, someone burst your bubble.

“Jake, we need you in the studio, there’s been an incident with…” some agitated guy tried to scream over the music, and you couldn’t make out all the words, but the next thing you heard was Jakes voice as he leaned down to address you.

“I have to go for now, but this isn’t over. I’ll see you on Monday.” It sounded promising, and a delicious shudder went down your spine at his words, easing away some of the frustration you felt at being interrupted.

The weekend was long, you didn’t call or text Jake, unsure what to say. So you just tried to distract yourself until it was finally time for work again.

The week started with the usual morning meeting, and you and Jake weren’t even trying to hide the glances you were giving each other. The dynamic between you had definitely shifted, and the tension only increased over the course of the day.

He was purposefully standing closer to you than usual, you let your hand lightly brush against his leg when he was sitting next to you at lunch and during the afternoon shows ad breaks, his eyes were fixed on you, never leaving you out of sight. You looked back, biting your lips and Jakes eyes widened, he looked like he wanted to devour you. You knew that sooner or later you had to face him and address what was going on. So when you got a message from Jake shortly after the show was over, telling you to meet him in his office, you basically ran there.

In front of his door, you took a moment to collect yourself before you knocked and entered.

Jake was leaning against his desk, tie and suit jacked discarded, arms crossed over his chest.

You made your way over to him and when you were close enough, he put his hands on your hips, like he was picking up right where you left it Friday night.

“You know.” He said, and his voice was a bit husky. “I’ve been in quiet the state since our dance Friday night. And your little touches here and there haven’t helped at all.”

He accentuated his words by pulling you flush against his body, and you moaned simultaneously when you felt the evidence of his arousal pressed against your belly.

You smirked and got on your tiptoes to whisper into his ear “I see, now what am I supposed to do about that?”

You pressed a kiss to his neck, and the deep groan he let out was almost sinful.

He reached out to grab your jaw and kissed you in a way that made it clear that he had lost his usually tight control. You held onto him with both arms while he spun you around and probed you up onto his desk, sending papers and pens flying in all directions. No one of you cared.

His hands found their way under your skirt, climbing up until his fingers were stroking over your already soaked panties. He pressed a finger to your covered clit, and you couldn’t suppress a loud moan.

“God, Y/N, how are you already so wet, I have barely touched you.”

“Get on with it then, please.” You groaned, spreading your legs to give him better access. He complied, pushing up your skirt. You lifted your hips so he could swiftly slide your panties down your legs, exposing your glistening center to the cool air of his office.

His fingers crept up your tights again, parting your lips and plunging two digits inside you while his thumb was rubbing your clit in light, circular motions, the pressure creating the most perfect sensation.

“Yesssss.” You hissed and tried to move your hips into the direction of his fingers to increase the friction, this wasn’t nearly enough for you.

“Please Jake, I need more.” You looked up at him and his eyes darkened.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you.” He whispered, withdrew his fingers and opened his fly. He pulled down his trousers and underwear, revealing his cock. You licked your lips at the sight of it, you were definitely going to enjoy this.

“You better come over here right now.” You whispered, and Jake stepped between your legs, the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance, teasing you.

“Damn, Tapper, fuck me already.” You groaned, and a second later he was thrusting into you in one fluid motion, instantly setting a brutal pace. You slapped your hand over your mouth to suppress the scream that was bursting out of you at the feeling of being filled so roughly. By now, you were almost lying almost flat on his desk, various clutter digging into your back.

Jakes hand were on your hips again, grabbing them tightly while slamming into you over and over. You had to keep your hand pressed to your mouth to prevent your loud cries from spilling out. Jake was hitting a perfect spot deep inside you with each hard thrust and you already knew you wouldn’t last long.

“I’ve been thinking about this for the whole weekend, throwing you on that desk and fucking you.” He growled through his clenched teeth and hearing him talk like that made your arousal spike. You had never seen him so unhinged, and it was glorious.

“You feel so good inside me Jake, so good, please fuck me harder.” You whimpered, and when he deepened his thrusts it only took another moment till you hit your peak with a guttural cry, a disfigured version of Jakes name falling from your lips.

He fucked you through your climax, never slowing down. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on his forehead, your mixed breathings and groans and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the office.

When he reached between your legs to rub your clit again, it almost felt like too much, you were overstimulated, but he was relentless, rubbing and pressing until you were on the edge of another orgasm.

“Jake, ugh, I’m going to come again.” You cried, and when he pinched your bud between his fingers you felt like you died and went to heaven. The walls of your pussy were fluttering and clenching down onto his cock as you hit your second peak, this time dragging Jake along with you over the edge. He gave one last forceful thrust and released himself deep inside you with a growl.

After he pulled out, Jake helped you get up from the desk and pulled you against his chest.

“You should have told me earlier.” He said, voice still slightly breathless. “How you felt.”

You lifted your head to look him in the eyes.

“I wish I had.” You answered. “Would have saved me a lot of trouble.”

“What is this too you?” he asked, his voice strangely emotional “What do you want from this?”

“I want you. If you’ll have me?”

The kiss he gave you in response was all the answer you needed.

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