#ignore the fact that im writing while i wait for the event to finish | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writingabouteverything · 3 years

Text

The Perfect White Flower--and Other Nonexistent Things

a/n YALL THIS IS PROBABLY DUMB BUT I HAD THIS IDEA ABOUT A HARRY STYLES X READER FIC THATS BASED ON THE PLOT OF JANE THE VIRGIN AND I WANTED TO WRITE IT SO BADLY I MADE THIS ACCOUNT

disclaimer--wont follow the show exactly

Pairing: Harry Styles x latina! reader (a key factor of the show revolves around the lead being latina, and im latina and honestly love writing for us but anyone can still read and understand/hopefully enjoy and the fic doesn’t involve any physical descriptions:))

Series Summary: Y/n l/n has had the world figured out since she was a child. She won’t be a writer because it’s risky, she’ll just focus on school and becoming a teacher. She’s never been a child, because her mother had her at sixteen and hasn’t aged a single year since. That’s part of the reason the promise she made to her grandmother means so much to her--if she doesn’t have sex before marriage, her child will never have to grow up as quickly as she did. And Harry Styles is at the top of the world--his music has never been more successful, he has a lovely girlfriend, and he’s never been more in demand. He has everything in the world...except a child, and through a series of unbelievable events--y/n might be his only chance to have one. Ever.

Chapter One Summary: Who knew getting a pap smear on two hours of sleep and three cups of coffee was as bad as having unprotected sex?

There’s something dangerous about taking public transportation in LA. And no, I don’t mean it in the ‘there are bad people in the world’ type of way. I mean it in the ‘I live in one of the casual influencer, celebrity, tourist hubs of the world and each time I step onto the bus I find myself mesmerized by all the stories I see in them’ way. Kind of pathetic, I know, but sometimes a child with blonde pig tails or a woman streaming on instagram live will catch my eye and the urge to pull out my lap top and start something I’ll never finish.

I know that writing isn’t some kind of disease. But I can’t let myself fall in love with it the way I want to. There’s nothing wrong with writing a short story or two, but trying to write a novel? That’s impractical. It will distract me from school, from the four year plan I’m almost done with.

Sighing, I brave taking at my surroundings. I deserve this today, after the anonymous, rude costumer at the hotel today, I need positivity. No one is particularly inspiring. The bus stops and I watch out the window. At first the crowd is ordinary, and then i see them...paparazzi. Flashing cameras from all angles, grown men violating all rules of personal space. It never sits right with me, but I guess it’s just part of living in LA. The bus starts moving again. When it stops again, I see even more paparazzis, but their cameras aren’t flashing. Good for whoever escaped that.

The bus door opens and I snap my attention back to my computer screen. I rub my eyes as I stare at my word document. How is there more that needs to be edited? This professor is the harshest grader I’ve ever had, and my friend, Gisa, is kind for giving me even more notes. But I’m exhausted. Two tests and an essay due before 12:00. And it’s...11:38. Great--I have to upload it the second I’m at my doctor’s office and have WiFi again.

I spend some time highlighting and rewording sentences, and once I’m done I reward myself with more people watching because I deserve it and I can’t fall asleep here. I’m kind of invested in the girl live streaming her bus ride...maybe she’ll say her instagram handle.

But when I look up, she’s not on the bus anymore. Almost no one is. An elderly couple is sitting towards the back. A woman with a toddler sit two rows in front of me...and there’s now a man directly across from me. I blink for a moment, imagining a story for someone who’s face I can’t quite see beneath such dark sun glasses. His dark waves and strong jaw do most of the imagining for me--he deserves a mystery, a dramatic one with a happy ending and just enough romance to keep the people interested. A good romance, too--not too sappy. Enemies to lovers, maybe. A mysterious stranger that’s not really a stranger because something about him is just...familiar.

He turns his head and I drop my gaze immediately. There’s no doubt he caught that, but I still pretend to edit the title of my essay. “You’ve been typing stubbornly since I first got on the bus.” There’s an accent--of course he’s english. But it’s more than that, I’ve heard that voice before. I’ve been...soothed by it. And--oh my god, I’m sitting across from Harry Styles.

Okay, don’t freak out. Don’t freak him out. He’s probably on here to escape the the whole ‘oh my god, you’re Harry Styles!’ thing.

“What are you writing?” Harry Styles just spoke to me. I greeted my one direction poster every single day in middle school, and Harry Styles just spoke to me. Okay--relax, breathe--it’s only weird if you make it weird.

There’s a kind of curt curiosity to his question. He could have been ruder, considering how blatantly I was staring at him. “I um...an essay.” I’m temped to turn the screen so that he can see I’m telling the truth. Though he wasn’t hostile, a part of me is paranoid that he thinks I am writing about him. It’s a fair assumption, for all he knows I’m drafting a tweet about who I saw on the bus this morning or preparing to send something in to some gossip girl-esque blog. “It’s due today at noon and normally I’m way more on top of things, but I had this last minute doctor’s appointment rescheduling because my usual doctor is out of town and--” I cut myself off before I can tell Harry Styles that I’m ovulating and that if I don’t go to my OBGYN now, I have to wait an entire month and I’ve already been off birth control longer than I’d like. I might not have actual sex in my near future, but my cramps have been extra terrible. “An essay, I just finished an essay.”

He nods once. Maybe he feels bad for so thoroughly startling me into such a rambling, because the corner of his mouth tilts upwards. A soft smile adds even more grace to his features, I focus on the dimple that appears in his cheek. “An aggravating essay, I take it, considering the death glares you’ve been giving your laptop screen.”

I smile at his polite humor. “It’s for the harshest grader on campus. She took three points off of my first essay freshman year because I spaced my bibliography wrong.”

He cringes in sympathy. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” I hum, proud of myself for not letting him know that I know who he is. The bus stops, I can see my doctor’s office behind a few paparazzi. “This is my stop.”

Harry nods once, ducking his head slightly. A tiny part of me feels sympathy for him; from what I’ve gathered, he genuinely loves his fans and the relationship they have, but it must be draining to never have a moment of privacy. Especially when it’s people who care more about selling your picture than your mental health.

I linger on the bus’s step, watching the men with large cameras look around. “Excuse me, are you guys looking for Harry Styles?” Most of the men disregard me, but one looks at me. “I know he’s near here because I’m a really big fan and my friend just texted that she saw him.” This gets me the attention I wanted. “He’s at Northfield--a cafe like three blocks down. I just know that if she got a picture with Harry in like a magazine or something she’d totally lose it--in a good way, and she’s been having a bad time so if you see her can you try to make it happen? Knowing her she’ll be at his side, she’s blonde, shortish hair.”

The men seem skeptical, but I guess they realize that this is the best lead they have. I think the fact that I gave a reason to justify selling Harry out for no reason helped. They disperse together, heading at least three blocks away from Harry. I don’t know if I’ve actually helped him, but I hope I have.

“Essay girl.” I freeze, half cringing. Did he hear that? That’s embarrassing. I consider darting away, but decide that would just make me cringe more. So I turn on my heels. “You...you forgot your phone.”

He just saved my life. “Thank you.” I take my phone from his outstretched hand, ignoring the slight thrill that runs through me when our fingers brush. “You’re my hero--the last thing I needed today was to run all over the city searching for my phone.” I finish the awkward admission with a partial laugh.

“Least I could do,” he mumbles, “especially considering what you just did.”

...He did see that. “Oh um--it was nothing, I just kind of made a connection and assumed the only reason you’d be on a public bus is because you were trying to avoid some things, and you make really great music and a lot of people happy, so you deserve that break.” Why does it feel like I’ve been talking forever? “Anyways, thanks for the whole phone thing, and I hope I got them off your tail.”

My joke seems to somewhat land. His lips part, like he’s planning on saying something else. A timer on my phone interrupts him. I instinctually look down--great, the alarm on my phone warning me that I’m only ten minutes away from being late. “I’m late.” I turn towards the bus’s exit. “I gotta go, but thanks again, and I hope you have a good day.”

I disappear after that, still not sure that that whole thing wasn’t some kind of hallucination. Did I just meet Harry Styles? He...he gave me my phone. Harry Styles has touched my phone. I can’t wait to tell Gisa, she’ll lose it.

I’m still thinking about Harry Styles when I finally reach my OBGYN’s office. When I get there, things are a lot more hectic than I thought they’d be. Many people crowd the waiting area and the receptionist’s desk is clearly understaffed. Two young girls are trying to address multiple upset pregnant women and take phone calls at the same time, all while practically buried in a sea pf paperwork. Wow, I didn’t realize that transferring was such chaos. One of the girls waves me over and barely checks my name before shoving a form towards me. I fill out as quickly as possible.

I upload my essay quickly after checking in. Who knows, maybe Harry Styles’s blessing will get me an A? A third person in scrubs emerges from the back after a moment and ushers me into a room. I tell myself to focus on going over the facts I need for the test I have to take in a little over an hour. Or to focus on the fact that I just met Harry Styles. But instead, I feel my heavy eyelids fall shut.

I don’t know how long I sleep, but I know that I wake up during the middle of a doctor’s sentence, “...I know I’m not your usual, so I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“Hm...Yeah, yeah I’m comfortable.” She nods once, her wide eyes slightly red. “But I do have a class today in like an hour, so I was wondering if this was going to take longer because of the office’s move?”

“Oh, no,” she shakes her head. “Just because Dr. Rodriguez gave us no notice before deciding that she no longer wanted to work here...or in the country. Or even live in the US, despite the fact that we just signed a lease on a place together...” Tears well in the stranger’s eyes, pity settles in my stomach.

“That sounds incredibly complicated, I didn’t mean to rush you.”

She blinks twice, her expression blanking as she fights against the pain of what’s clearly a terrible break up. “No, no--you have every right. Today is your day and if..honestly, if you’re strong enough to go to a class after this, and do what you’re about to do by yourself, then I’m strong enough to get through today.”

Um...didn’t realize a pap smear counted as something that needs moral support, but I’ll chalk it up to her heightened emotions. “Thanks.”

She snaps on her medical gloves. “No, thank you for your patience. Now lay down.”

I do as told, preparing for a sensation I haven’t often experienced. A moment passes and I know she’s started. She’s moving away from me much faster than expected. Oh--I guess pap smears are a lot shorter than I expected.

“That’s it?”

“Yep,” she hums, pulling her gloves off. “Now just take it easy, and hydrate.”

Weird...but that’s like general doctor advice. “Thanks!”

I’ve never wanted to keep a secret from Gisa, but sometimes I really regret telling her I met Harry Styles. It’s been almost a month and I find my mind wandering back to the moment in which our fingers brushed more than I should. Sometimes I let myself wonder what he might have said if my phone hadn’t rang. I was probably just imagining the way his lips parted, but my ind refuses to let it go.

“...You know it’s kind of sad, I read an interview in which he spoke about the fact that he has some genetic condition that makes it hard to have kids. He has so many godchildren, and I feel like he’d make such a great father.”

I try to keep up with Gisa’s words, but the dull ache in my head makes it feel so far away. “Yeah...he seemed really patient.”

Gisa nods, turning to face me. “You alright, you’re looking kinda green?”

“Yeah...” I reach for my canvas bag. “I think I just...I probably just need some water.”

My hand grazes the metal of my water bottle and then the corners of my vision blur into blackness. I sway, Gisa’s hand is on my shoulder...and then it all goes black.

I sit uncomfortably on the hospital’s cot. Gisa is a traitor for telling my mom that I fainted. I knew she’d just drag me here--hispanic mothers, they either believe they can cure you with vic’s vapor rub or they want you in the ER. No in between.

“I know you didn’t want another test, but you’ve been throwing up in the morning for days and now you’re fainting.”

“Fainted,” I correct, “it happened once.”

“C’mon, mija, it’s just one doctor’s appointment.”

Speaking of, an ER nurse returns. “Fainting and nausea spells explained,” he says, glancing at his clipboard, “you’re pregnant.”

My mom and I can’t help but exchange a look before bursting into laughter. Pregnant. If I’m pregnant then the second coming is here. “That’s impossible, I’m a virgin.”

He glances at my mom, “maybe we should have this conversation in private.”

“No, what you say in front of me you can say in front of my mom.”

My mom raises an eyebrow. “Y/n, did you and that guy from your english class--”

“No! No, we did not. I am a virgin and there’s no way I’m pregnant.” I glare at the nurse.

He then ushers me to a bathroom so that I can provide a urine sample. After I’m finished, he shows me a pregnancy test strip. “Pink means pregnant.” I bite my tongue as he tests the strip in my sample. He pulls it out and it’s...it’s bright pink.

“I’m calling my doctor, because this has to be a mistake. It has to be like a hormonal thing.”

“Exactly, pregnancy hormones.”

I glare even harder, calling the doctor that I saw last week. “Hello, Dr. Ash? I was wondering if I could get a consultation because I’m in the ER and some crazy doctor is trying to tell me I’m pregnant.”

Silence on the line for a long second. “...I actually cleared my calendar for you.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #jane the virgin #jane the virgin AU #lot #hslot st louis

77 notes · View notes

emsvegetables · 4 years

Text

24th: kuroo will forever think that it’s always you.

- it’s a little thing that he just can’t seem to push out of his mind. he just can’t stop thinking about the fact that it’s always been you.

no. of words: 1.6k ++??

okay hi yes. this was ALSO pure word vomit. but this was my favourite to write so far! can u tell that i love him??????? yes okay thx bye <333 i hope u like this :)

maybe it’s always been hidden deep in the back of his mind, but kuroo only recently realised that all this time, it’s always been you.

it’s a random series of events that fall perfectly into place and compete the puzzle in kuroo’s brain, the little puzzle about the fact that it has always been you.

it doesn’t matter what else he tries to think, what else he tries to do, because you’re always going to show up in his brain no matter what, you’re always on his mind, and you’re always his top priority in everything.

one of the pieces takes place when you guys are young. “why is she always here?” he complains one day when he’s about to practice volleyball with kenma, and spots you skipping over to greet them. kenma simply pushes his hair behind his ear, and nods at you when you wave at him from afar.

“because she’s our neighbour. also, we’re friends with her, kuroo, you like her, and so do i. what’s wrong with her being here?” kenma asks, and kuroo blinks.

yeah. why did he suddenly complain about your presence? he liked you. you were fun. you were nice. you were helpful. what was wrong with him? why did he suddenly say that?

“no reason,” kuroo says, shrugging his shoulders, “i was just wondering.”

kenma nods, and turns to greet you as you near them.

“hey, kuroo!” you say after you greet kenma, and kuroo grins, before tossing the ball to you, “hey, (Y/N).”

another one of the pieces takes place in middle school, and one of kuroo’s friends tap him on the shoulder when he catches kuroo’s lingering gaze during lunch one day.

“what are you looking at, kuroo?” he demands, looking at where kuroo was looking to see what he was looking at, “you’re supposed to be focusing on our volleyball game!”

kuroo startles, and laughs apologetically, “my bad, my bad.”

his friend frowns slightly, dropping the ball to the floor and continuing his stare at where kuroo was looking at, “are you looking at (Y/N) again?”

“again?” kuroo raises an eyebrow, and picks up the volleyball to start spinning it in his hand, and his friend nods.

“yeah! you’re always looking at her—“ his friend trails off slightly, before grinning widely at kuroo, “no way, do you like her or something?”

kuroo blinks.

“of course i like her,” kuroo says firmly, “she’s my childhood best friend! why would i not like her? what do you mean?”

his friend sticks out his tongue, “whatever. you’ve just been staring at her a lot.”

kuroo laughs, and looks over at you again, watching you play tag with your group of girl friends, and twitches his leg slightly when he watches you trip over air, and sighs slightly when you catch yourself as quickly as you tripped.

“(Y/N)‘s clumsy and kind of reckless. i’m just looking at her to make sure she doesn’t injure herself.”

“oh.” his friend says, “okay. whatever! back to volleyball!”

kuroo nods, tossing the ball towards his friend again, but his attention doesn’t stray from you, in case you actually do trip and fall over.

another one of the many pieces now take place in high school. by some miraculous reason, you’ve somehow been convinced by kuroo to join the volleyball team as team manager. and because you have to suffer in this hell, you supported kuroo in convincing kenma to join the volleyball team to suffer in this hell with you.

yaku and kai are talking to kuroo one day about the team’s performance when you walk in, laden with waterbottles on one hand and carrying your clipboard on the other.

kuroo instantly walks away from the both of them mid-conversation, and strides towards you, and yaku raises his eyebrows in disbelief and prods kai, “did he just walk away from us? where’s he even walking to? we haven’t even finished our conversation?”

kai lets out a laugh, and points to you, and yaku’s raised eyebrows return back to their original position when he spots you.

“ah.” yaku merely says, and folds his arms and falls silent.

you smile when you hear kuroo call out your name and turn to greet him, and you scrunch your brows together when he reaches forward to carry off all the waterbottles from your arms.

“oi,” you frown, and glare up at him, “i can carry them by myself.”

“yes ma’am,” he shoots you a salute, “but im not going to let you.”

“i’m more than capable of carrying it myself, kuroo,” you say, and try to reach forward to take them back, but kuroo merely raises them beyond your reach, grinning at you when you fail to take them back, and you wrinkle your nose in distaste.

“i know, i know,” he grins, “i’m just helping you.”

“you always help me,” you huff, “but i’m the manager, i should be carrying this. it’s my job, kuroo.”

kuroo laughs, and reaches out a hand to ruffle your hair, “i know, (Y/N), just let me help out once in a while and just say thank you.”

you sigh, before smiling up at him, “yeah, okay, thanks, kuroo.”

he ignores the clenching he feels in his chest when he stares down at your smile, and grins back at you.

“he always helps her carry her things, poor (Y/N), kuroo’s always bothering her,” yaku notes, and kai laughs.

then comes the time the pieces finally fit.

kuroo’s out with a girl, and he’s nervous as hell. this was his first date in forever, and he didn’t want to mess up his chances in finally getting with someone.

the girl’s pretty. so very pretty.

he tries his best to hide it, but he’s fiddling with his fingers underneath his table while he engages in casual conversation with the girl.

the girl smiles, and kuroo blinks.

for some reason, when she smiled, all he could think of was how you smiled at him. your smile was very different from hers. in an instant, he feels bad, because how can he compare you against others? how can he compare people against others? but he can’t stop thinking about how the girl’s smile was poised and a little stiff, and he can’t stop thinking about your genuine and sincere one.

“kuroo?” the girl says, and kuroo blinks again, before laughing nervously, “right, sorry, i drifted away for a second.”

the girl laughs, “don’t worry about that.”

and again, kuroo can’t help but think about how different your laugh is compared to the girl. the girl’s laugh was sweet, sure, but for some reason, only your laugh makes his chest feel warm.

“okay,” kuroo smiles, “should we get to ordering?”

the girl nods, and kuroo frowns when he hears the girl tell the waiter her order.

“aren’t you ordering the vanilla crepe cake?” he asks when the waiter leaves and the girl shoots him a questioning look when she notices the frown on his face.

the girl shakes her head, and laughs, “why would i? i don’t like crepe cakes or vanilla at all.”

kuroo frowns.

why did he suddenly think of a vanilla crepe cake? then he remembers. you like vanilla crepe cake. why was he thinking of your order when the girl was ordering?

“hey, kuroo, who’s (Y/N)?” the girl asks while kuroo’s trying to drink his coffee. kuroo chokes slightly, and raises an eyebrow.

“what? why are you asking? (Y/N)’s one of my best friends,” he says, resuming his drink if his coffee.

“oh, you keep mention their name, i was just wondering because all of your stories always involve them,” the girl says, and kuroo raises an eyebrow.

“i did?” he asks, and the girl nods fervently.

“yeah! is he nice?”

“he?” kuroo laughs, “(Y/N)‘s a girl, what are you talking about?”

the girl merely opens her mouth and smiles again. kuroo pretends not to notice the way her smile has become colder considerably, and the way she looks away disinterestedly when kuroo tries to engage her in conversation again.

the date doesn’t go well after that.

when the girl gives him a frosty goodbye when they part at the train station, kuroo sighs. he managed to muck up the first date he had in ages, big surprise.

his phone buzzes in his pocket then, and he grins when he sees your name light up on the screen.

“hey,” he says, when he presses the phone against his ear.

“hey!” you say cheerfully, and for some reason, his heart starts to quicken again his chest, but kuroo ignores that and waits for you to continue your sentence, “how was your date?”

kuroo sighs, “it was shit.”

“oh,” you say, “do you want to come over? i have some ice cream and we can binge watch some movies if you want to.”

kuroo smiles, “yeah, of course.”

your laugh during the movie is what clues him in.

it hits him in his heart, and causes it to clench just slightly when he hears it.

when he turns to look at you, his heart clenches even further when he sees the smile on your face as you continue to watch the movie.

he always thought you were pretty.

you laugh again, and kuroo’s breath hitches slightly when it finally hits him.

when did he start to feel this way towards you? when did he start to like you? when has he ever not thought of you?

it’s always been like this, a soft voice in his brain tells him, you’ve always been in love with her.

“kuroo? what’s in your mind?” you ask, and kuroo blinks when he realised that he’s still staring at you, and you’re looking at him with concern present on your face.

kuroo sucks in a deep breath, and smiles.

“what’s on your mind?” you ask again, raising a brow, and kuroo laughs.

“you.”

“me?” you ask, and kuroo’s still smiling at you even when you raise your brows higher.

“yeah,” he says, the smile becoming just a little wider, “hey, if i say something, promise not to freak out, okay?”

you laugh, “of course.”

“i think i’m in love with you,” he finally admits after a short pause, and you don’t know it, but he’s fiddling with his hands behind the back, waiting nervously for your answer.

you blink, and kuroo stiffens slightly.

“ha!” and when you laugh, kuroo freezes up.

“ha? what’s that supposed to mean?” kuroo asks, and blinks when you let out another laugh.

“i meant ha as in ha! you finally realised,” you say, and kuroo blinks again.

“realised what?”

“kuroo, you’re really smart in class, but you’re super dumb right now,” you laugh, before smiling at him brightly, “i think i’m in love with you too.”

and when you lean forward to kiss him, kuroo smiles against the kiss as he kisses you back.

it’s always been you, the voice in his brain whispers when kuroo pulls you closer to wrap his arms around you.

back to my fluffvember masterlist!

general taglist :)

send an ask to be added in :D

@mrs-kuroojinguji @galacticstxrdust @h0rny-m3ss @strawberriimilkshake @lexysclubhouse @alluringeternity @newfriendjen @aam1na @simpinghrs @boosyboo9206 @earl-mint-tea @sachirou-senpai @kuboyasuuu @cotton-hashira @kellesvt @mochipk @ohbois-biggay-bnha @deadontheinsidebut @atsumubabe @wisepandaslimeland @doodleniella @tttournesolll @millie-mint @the-moons-raes @chaosamu @flairlust @l3v1achan @bellesowl @wheeshllumi @karasimpno @sodasketches @dai-tsukki-desu @isentsworld @lavearchives

fluffvember taglist:

send an ask if you only want to be added to this instead of the general taglist!

@omigogames @unicorngluttony @thesecondapplepienation @tsukisemi @tamaguchi @omibaby @psycopath-satan @shibayamasbae @churochuu @crazyrichashea @let-me-have-my-own-name @fo-love @heykoutarou @lovelyrynn @neomuxuxi @haikyuuhopes @bluntkingkuroo @abswrites @ne-kuroo @yadane-bakabaka @song-of-storms162 @lady-snavely @hawksnumberoneuwu @rkives-keiji @llamakenma

i’ll tag those that i couldn’t tag later! this is a scheduled post.

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines

307 notes · View notes

ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

silent confessions

request from nonnie! “Hey erica! I have a request for you, it's a bit challenging i think but I'm sure you'll do perfectly. Imagine like, the fake dating trope with fred, BUT at the end it's a george x reader? Like, imagine george feeling uncomfortable and jealous seeing the reader and fred acting like a couple even though he knows its not real and stuff anyway im obsessed with your writing love you bye”

pairing: fred x reader, george x reader

word count: 3.8k

A/N: wait, i loved this request. so different from the normal fake dating tropes! i hope this lived up to expectations.. idk why i just feel like my writing sort of sucks in this?? wah, idk, sad, feedback pls? also we’ve got some POV changes in this but they’re pointed out ayyyee, thanks for enduring the fluffiest fluff ever bc that’s all i have to give you hooligans

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan

You

You could practically hear the smirk that grew on his face — he wasn’t exactly being subtle. He took his place next to you in the Great Hall, ignored the fact that you were removing spellbooks and quills from your bag to begin your work, and didn’t bother to heed Snape’s warning glance.

“Hey, Y/N?”

Fred’s voice was a little too sweet for your liking; sweet as sugar, in fact. You knew this voice. It’s the voice he always put on whenever he needed a favor — whenever he wanted something from you. You didn’t look up from the table.

“Whatever it is, I think I’m going to pass.”

He scoffed and closed your spellbook. You grunted in annoyance; you were positive he wasn’t going down without a fight, but you supposed you still needed to try, even though you knew in your heart that this was a fight you wouldn’t win. You turned toward him and he batted his eyelashes at you.

“Dear, dear Y/N — you won’t pass when I tell you what’s in it for you.”

“What type of chaotic mischief that you have planned could possibly be beneficial to me?”

He digested this; you were right, and he knew it. He just shrugged, though, took in your rejection and tried to use it to his advantage.

He nodded across to the other end of the Gryffindor table; there sat Angelina Johnson — fellow Gryffindor, member of the DA, Quidditch captain and, to your most recent knowledge, Fred Weasley’s crush. Again. Boy was crazy about her.

“Thought we already tried this, Freddie?” you sighed, stealing your spellbook back from his very tight grasp and opening it to your desired page. He huffed a bit, and you were quite sure he was remembering the disaster that was the Yule Ball, just a year ago.

You noticed a small grin lift his cheeks; he looked rather smug now, which made you worried. What was it, exactly, that he had planned? “I know last year didn’t go exactly as I’d hoped.” Right. Fred had gotten a little too sloppy on his date with Angelina. She’d been a bit turned off. The night ended and she never pursued anything else; he was so embarrassed, neither did he. Fred Weasley? Embarrassed? The word wasn’t even in his day to day vernacular. But boy, was he shook.

“But it was a long time ago — besides, she’s been sending me all types of signals.”

“I don’t think her eye rolls mean she fancies you, Fred.”

He jabbed you playfully in the ribs. “Don’t be rude, Y/N. I know she fancies me. I just know it. You don’t go on just one date with Fred Weasley.”

You scoffed at his air of egotistical confidence; you shut your eyes at the prospect of him maybe going to someone else for help. Much to your dismay, it didn’t happen. He just stayed where he was, resting his chin on his hand, peering at you longingly as if his staring alone would convince you to say yes to whatever he had up his sleeve. After a few minutes, you said, “If I agree to help you, you prat, will you leave me alone?”

“Can’t say leaving you alone would exactly work with what I’ve got planned,” he replied, relaxing now, tapping his foot underneath the table and not taking his eyes off of Angelina. “I need you to pretend to date me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Relax, Y/N, I’m not going to pin you against the wall and snog you, if that’s what you’re so worried about,” he laughed, running a hand through his hair. You felt as though your throat was closing up at the mere thought of it. “Just some hand holding, things of the like. Need to make her jealous. Need to make her realize what she’s missing.”

You groaned in frustration. “Can I take back what I said?”

“Nope,” he answered brightly. “You can’t. Thanks for coming along for the ride. Don’t get in too deep, though. No falling in love with me, alright?”

You felt a pang in your chest; you weren’t in love with him and you never would be. He was your best friend and nothing would change that. You knew it and so did he. You felt worried, though. What would others think? What if Angelina did get jealous — but in a bad way? Or worse — what would George say?

His was the only opinion that mattered to you, truthfully.

So that’s how you came to be Fred Weasley’s “girlfriend”, and when you both finally told George what Fred had strategically planned, you were relieved and also a bit upset at how nonchalant he seemed; a small grin tugged at the edges of his lips which sent you into a tizzy. You tried your very hardest to hide your disappointment; you didn’t want to let on how absolutely mad you were for him. So, you supposed, when you thought about this ridiculous stunt one night in your four poster, fake dating Fred would certainly squash any and all suspicions George had (if he did) about you fancying him.

“How’s my favorite couple?” he’d asked teasingly one day in the middle of the common room, sinking into the couch on the other side of you. Angelina then popped in through the portrait hole, and Fred placed his hand on your knee, stroking it absentmindedly. You felt a dull ache in your heart when you saw George’s eyes dart toward Fred’s hand.

Angelina had done the exact same thing; you were able to see a very faint shade of pink flush her cheeks before she stormed upstairs to her dormitory without a word to any of you. Fred immediately dropped his hand and you felt your muscles relax, but not without a quick squeeze to your knee and a cheeky grin. “Brilliant, Y/N,” he said, earning himself a dull grunt from you. Not that you’d done much, or anything, for that matter. But still, your heart felt sore at the thought: you wanted, more than anything, for George to reach over and gently graze your knee, pull you into him, kiss your temple as Fred had been doing the last few weeks.

The dull ache in your heart just seemed to grow stronger.

George

“Help me!”

You frowned. “I’m already in the middle of the other favor your lovely brother asked me to do,” you told him with a slight twinge of annoyance to your voice; however, it wasn’t difficult for him to detect a bit of cheekiness, too — especially when he saw the slight grin that spread itself across your lips.

“I just need some help with this stupid Potions essay.”

George noticed you soften at his request; he supposed it wasn’t as time-consuming as pretending to be someone’s girlfriend, and was rather elated when you agreed. You pulled out your desired books from the shelves in front of you and pointed at an empty table in one of the rows. “Let’s get started then, Georgie.”

But the truth was, he didn’t really need help. He was actually doing surprisingly well in Potions, for the first time since he began at Hogwarts. He didn’t want to let it get to his head, though. He figured there wasn’t anything wrong with getting some extra assistance.

It wasn’t assistance that he yearned for, though — it was you. More importantly, time spent with you. Any time — which he found himself getting hardly any now that you were “dating” his brother. He was first impressed at the idea that you’d decided to help Fred with his ridiculous request, and spent most of the time hanging around you teasing you and taunting you mercilessly for it, earning himself adorable laughs and flustered looks in return. But now, as he watched Fred press featherlight kisses to your temple and snake his arm around your waist at every given moment, all he felt was resentment. Jealousy. Hurt.

He felt himself feeling guilty; he shouldn’t be allowed to feel any of those things, because Fred didn’t know. Nobody knew. Nobody knew how he felt about you. Also, this whole stupid thing was just a ploy, anyway. So he suppressed those feelings everyday until he ended up alone in his dorm room, where he’d kick his trunk and scream into a muffled pillow while he let his brain unwind and digest the day's events.

“Ah — work here is finished,” he said after a few hours in the library. Much needed hours, in fact. He watched as you slowly placed your spellbooks back into your bag. “Thanks for your help.”

And in between those bouts of jealousy and resentment came moments of clarity, moments of affection, overwhelming feelings of admiration toward you. “For you?” you started, a gentle smile on your lips as you placed a hand to his knee, “Anything.”

You

You woke up before the sun and groaned; it was Saturday. Four Saturdays, in fact, since Fred had asked you to embark on this silly endeavor with him. Three Saturdays since you’d begun wondering when this would finally be over. Two Saturdays since Fred had told you sooner rather than later. One Saturday since George had noticeably become off balance.

You felt a pull at your heart when you popped through the portrait hole with Fred and Ginny later that evening after a much needed trip into Hogsmeade; you chewed nervously on the sugar quill you’d purchased as you placed yourself next to the roaring fire, Fred taking a seat next to you on the couch when Ginny made her way to the girls dormitory.

You didn’t know where George was; he hadn’t come to Hogsmeade. Or maybe he did, and he’d just very successfully avoided you both as you ended up, hand-in-hand, wherever Angelina was. With the exception of a few measly youngins on the other end of the common room, you and Fred were alone.

“Freddie?”

“Hm?”

“I really need to talk with you.”

He looked up from his copy of the Daily Prophet he had clutched in his hands. He furrowed his brow and placed the paper on the table in front of him, criss-crossing his legs and peering at you longingly. Then he turned cheeky and wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Must be important,”

You cleared your throat and felt your heart thundering against your ribcage.

You opened your mouth to speak and closed it just the same. You didn’t really know how to ask what you wanted to — to tell him what you wanted to. So instead, you opted for, “How much longer d’you think this is going to last?”

“I dunno — a few days, or so. Why?” He raised his eyebrows. “Sick of me already?”

“Ha-ha,” you replied sarcastically, jabbing him in the chest. “I just — I’m a bit worried —” you broke off and let your mind wander for a moment. You thought about truthfully telling Fred how you felt. Guilty. Upset. Lonely. In love with someone who didn’t seem to notice. Worried he’d find someone else. “I just hope Angelina isn’t getting the wrong idea.”

Fred digested this. “How d’you mean?”

“Well, you want her to run to you in a fit of jealous fury, right?” he nodded curtly, taking this in. “I just hope she doesn’t see us together and instead, turns the other cheek. Looks the other way. Finds somebody else. You know?” But it wasn’t Angelina you were worried about.

Fred thought about this for a moment. You watched as his cheeky expression turned rather stoic, and then a bit grim. “I never thought of it that way.”

Suddenly, you felt extremely worried. You started, “No, no, you know what? I’m being silly — she wouldn’t, because she’s absolutely mad for you, too. Just forget I said anything, okay? I reckon she’ll be round to snatch you right out of my hands this week.” You laughed, but it felt foreign in your mouth. Fred noticed.

“Y/N,” his voice suddenly sounded a lot less like his own — more concerned. “What’s going on?”

Just then, George popped through the portrait hole with Ron, Harry, and Neville. You met his gaze and let it linger for a few long moments. He then smiled brightly, as if he hadn’t been acting strange this entire past week. With a quick wave to you both, ignoring Fred’s motion to come and sit down, he made his way straight up to the boys dormitory. Fred shot you a glance, and you answered his previous question.

“Nothing, Fred,” you sighed, silencing him before he could ask you if you knew what was up with his twin. You hated how painfully true your next words were. “There’s absolutely nothing going on.”

George

George was outside in the courtyard with Ron, Harry, and Ginny. He’d been doing his best to avoid you and Fred at all costs, which was pretty hard when you were his best friend and Fred was his twin. But he tried.

He found himself growing incredibly uncomfortable around you both; the sheer sight of Fred slinging an arm around your waist, intertwining his fingers with yours, calling you his “love” — it sent George spiraling. He didn’t want Fred doing those things. In fact, he didn’t want anyone doing those things. Only him. He wanted you to be his love.

“Georgie?”

You took him by surprise in the courtyard; the others were immersed in a conversation about bets, or something. He, though, was peering up at you, doing his very best to not look as bloody nervous as he felt.

“Can we talk?”

You didn’t give him a chance to answer; you pulled him to his feet and immediately brought him back into the castle. You found an empty classroom and sat yourself down on a desk across from him. He had to resist the urge to spill his guts, tell you everything, grab your face in his hands and confess his unwavering love for you.

So instead, he opted for a generic, “What’s up?”

“I’m not sure..” you started timidly. He could see the shyness in your eyes and he didn’t like it one bit. You? Shy around him? You’d never been. He hated that this is where it had gotten too. “Are you mad at me?”

He was very much taken aback at your forward question; way to cushion the blow. He swallowed a few times, trying very desperately to dislodge the lump that appeared in his throat and hoped to Merlin that he could fool you. “Mad? Of course not. Why would I be?”

You crossed your arms, now looking a bit angered. George felt his insides constrict. “We haven’t spoken in days.”

“I’ve just — been busy,” George lied. His jaw tightened. “Assignments, and things. Detention. You know,” he winked, trying to lighten the mood, “the usual.”

You smiled back, though it was a broken sort of smile. Lonely. It took everything in him not to lean over and kiss it right off of your mouth. “Are you sure? You’d tell me if anything was wrong, right?” He swore he heard more than yearning in your voice; he scolded himself silently for being dishonest. Was your voice breaking? “You’re my best friend.”

Inside his pockets, he clenched his fists. He was going to go for it. Who cared about Angelina? Fred could get her without this ridiculous bloody stunt of his. And George needed to tell you before you fell for his twin, for real, and the both of you ended up heartbroken. He stepped forward, but before he could do or say anything, you slung your arms around his shoulders and squeezed him tight. He felt revitalized at your embrace, like he was reentering his body after having been off balance for months. His fingertips found your hips and he focused solely on the smell of your shampoo, the feeling of your body pressed tightly against him. When you both parted, he took your hands in his. He wet his lips and took a steady deep breath. “Honestly?”

“Darling!”

Fred’s voice, much to George’s dismay, came from the classroom door. Damnit. How had he found you both? The door was closed! Frustration, anger, and gloom raced through George’s body; he was about two bloody seconds away from decking his brother for interrupting. But he couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t. Fred didn’t know. George sighed through gritted teeth, let your hands fall out of his, and backed away slowly.

“”C’mon, love, we’ve got dinner,” Fred called, sounding much happier than George would’ve liked. To him, Fred said, “you coming, mate?”

“Be there in a minute, Freddie.”

Fred grinned brightly and left you both standing in the middle of the classroom, the tension still hanging in the air. You turned back from the door, a solemn sort of look on your face, and asked him, “What were you going to say?”

“Oh,” George’s voice got caught in his throat, “just — been a little stressed. Knackered from class more often than not. Reckon I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

You frowned. He knew that you were aware not to press on; that was all the information he was going to give. You took a deep breath. “As long as we’re okay?”

“Of course we are.”

“Okay,” you said. You grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I’m famished. Let’s go eat.”

You

“Did I do something wrong?”

Fred was standing across from you in the common room, arms crossed, shoulders back, and a smirk growing on his face. He laughed at your nervousness. He’d just told you that things were over between you both. You’d asked, of course, just to be courteous. But you were actually pretty bloody excited. “Of course not, Y/N. You’ve done quite the opposite, actually.”

“Meaning?”

Fred walked over to you and placed his hands on both of your shoulders. He wet his lips before a huge, cheeky grin swept itself across his face. He squeezed you. “Angelina cornered me this morning.”

You raised your eyebrows. You were suddenly feeling much more invigorated. You grabbed his face out of pure excitement and shook him. “And? Keep bloody on, would you?!”

He threw his head back and laughed haughtily now. “Haven’t seen you this excited since before we began this,”

“Sorry,” you calmed down and frowned a bit. “Reckon I haven’t been the greatest “girlfriend”...”

A soft smile found its way across Fred’s cheeks. You furrowed your brows in confusion, hoping that he was going to tell you that he and Angelina were finally, wonderfully, officially together, which meant that you and Fred didn’t need to be. But he caught you completely off guard and said, “Don’t blame yourself too much. I reckon it’d be difficult to pretend to date me, especially when you’re in love with someone else.”

You were certain that your heart had jumped directly into your throat; your entire body went rigid at his words. He knew? Who else knew? Did George? Did everyone? “I don’t.. know what you’re on about, Freddie.”

“Merlin, you are being thick today,” he teased, pulling at your hair and shaking his head. “C’mon. You think I didn’t notice? Each time I’d drop your hand, or unwind my arm from your waist, I saw you steal glances at him.” Fred leaned in to get closer to you and you noticed a light shade of pink wash over his cheeks. Had you been silently confessing your love for George this entire time? “He was stealing them right back, you know.”

You swallowed thickly. Did Fred know more than he was letting on? Where was George? “He was?”

“He’s in the Great Hall.” It was evident to you that Angelina was watching from the other end of the common room, and she was smiling brightly. No doubt, Fred had told her everything. You turned back toward Fred and grinned nervously. He took your hands in his and squeezed them. He simply said, “Go get him already, would you?”

And as quickly as your feet could carry you, you ran swiftly down the staircases, through the corridors, into the Great Hall and all the way to the front, where George was sitting, pouring over a bit of parchment, looking positively ghastly. Adrenaline was coursing through your veins like fire; your cheeks felt hot and flushed and each and every muscle in your body ached from running so bloody fast. “Ah,” he said brightly at the sight of you. “Come here to help me, have you? This assignment is a right load —”

You cut him off, ignored this completely and pulled him to his feet; he peered down at you with a confused expression and opened his mouth to speak, but you cupped his face in your hands, pulled him forward, and kissed him. The muffled moan that escaped his lips gave you your answer — he was certainly shocked. However, it didn’t take him long to melt into it; he was kissing you as though he’d never kissed anyone in his life, like the pure feeling of your lips moulding together with his was the very oxygen pumping through his lungs at that very moment. His hands were tangled in your robes, but he eventually found himself stroking your spine delicately with his fingers, earning himself slight whines from you as he laughed cheekily against your lips. From behind you somewhere, someone said, “Hey Y/N, you do know that’s the wrong twin you’re snogging, right?”

“Oi, shove off, Finnegan!” you called, parting from George only for a moment. “I know which twin it is!”

You turned back toward George and the two of you let out a bit of relieved laughter, limbs still entangled together. “I’ve got a confession to make,” he began, biting down on his bottom lip to keep himself from pouncing on you, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

“Yeah?” you asked, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

“Pretty difficult to do anything about it when you’ve been dating my brother the last month or so,”

“You’re right,” you told him, pulling a bit on his tie, “but I’m pretty sure he broke down and told Angelina everything.”

George raised his eyebrows at you in surprise. You continued, “Pretty sure he got sick of me being a mopey “girlfriend” because all I wanted to do was be with you instead.”

His sweet smile turned rather sensual. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s so,” you told him straightforwardly, running your hands through his very messy red hair.

Somewhere in the distance, over the sea of people watching you both, Seamus Finnegan shouted, “Wait, has it always been George?”

George actually snorted a bit at this; then he bit down on his lip again, wiggled his eyebrows at you, and asked, “Well — has it?”

You didn’t break your gaze, though; instead, you let your eyes linger on George’s for much longer than you normally would. You were pretty sure that you could hear the steady thumping of his heart against his ribcage, and his eyes washing over you like a cool tide completely sent you into overdrive. Suddenly, you were feeling much more confident than normal. Perhaps it was the way he was looking at you. “Yeah,” you said to George, pressing your lips to his once more, “it’s always been you.”

reblogs, comments, feedback, and all of the above are always appreciated!

#george weasley #fred weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #george weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #fred weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #hp imagine #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #my writing

724 notes · View notes

wandsandwheezes · 3 years

Text

Till You Make It | F.W | CH5

Fake It | The Masterlist

Warnings // SMUT 18+, Hufflepuff!Reader, implied sex, teasing, lingerie, relationship, consent, sexting??

a/n // So im posting this one a day early as there is a chapter 5.5 coming out tomorrow which is pretty much just pure smut <3 once again i have to thank @starlightweasley my partner in crime for being my muse while writing this!!

When Fred left that evening after dinner, the under-the-table events still plagued your mind as you threw your head back against your pillow out of desperation. Fred made it very hard for you to concentrate on anything other than him or the feel of his fingers. Substituting his hands for your own didn’t help either, you fell asleep with your lips parted in half pleasure and half agony from missing the man who had been plaguing your thoughts. Chest heaving, shivers running down your spine and fingertips moving only left you breathless for him. You thought that maybe that desperate feeling would leave you when you woke the next morning, to be left in the night but as you walked to a day of appointments, your mind was truly somewhere else, somewhere with him. Each fleeting thought as you hem a skirt or completed your seams only brought you to feel his hot breath fanning against your skin or his stupidly delicate touch, having to take a deep breath just to pull you back to the reality that he wasn’t right there, he was across the street no doubt laughing and joking away like the memory of last night wasn’t plaguing his every thought.

You were far from the truth. He wanted to storm into your shop like the first time he kissed you, hearing only your choked back moans like a sweet symphony in his brain. George tried to get his attention, only holding it for a few moments before he was distracted again. Fred was meant to be stacking shelves, but the sight of a current Gryffindor quidditch player donning their sweater made all of his thoughts of you race back.

<< Morning, doll x

>> Fred Weasley I hate you.

<< No kisses? What have i done :(( x

>> You left me frustrated you absolute git

<< There’s no reason to call me that, petal x

<< I could’ve left you much worse off x

He watched as the typing bubble flashed up on the screen before disappearing a few times. Smirking to himself as he locked his phone, pushing it into his pocket knowing full well what he’d done. You were sighing to yourself as you sipped on the now lukewarm coffee, tapping out the perfect message to retort back at him, but nothing seemed to fit, no matter what you say he would have the perfect witty response to chime back. It hit you, if he wanted to play games you would play along.

>> Wanna see the set I’m working on Freddie? x

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, as he pushed a box of spare products onto the shelf in the stockroom. He checked the message only to feel his heartbeat about to burst out of his chest as it raced that bit quicker. He was alone but the thought of anyone just walking in or catching a glimpse of the picture on his phone drove his feet to his office as he tapped out his message to you.

<< I’d love that xx

You smiled to yourself as you laid out the garment on the table for him, making sure that it was smoothed out to perfection before snapping the perfectly innocent picture to send to him. You knew that he was expecting more skin, a lot more skin in fact. In his head he was about to receive a tempting photo of his girl, for his eyes only.

>> (1) Attachment.

He tapped open the picture with shaky fingers, unaware of what to expect when the image flashed up on his screen, eyes gazing over the lacy fabric not on your body but on the worktop. Tease. He quickly realised what you were doing, huffing to himself as he let his head fall back against the headrest of his arm chair. If you kept up this teasing to and fro you’d drive each other mad by the end of the night.

<< Why don’t you put it on for me, petal? xx

Two hours had ticked by since his last text to you. He found himself checking every notification, praying it was you, even considering sending another message but he stopped himself. He tried as best he could to focus on his work; taking stock, doing orders and serving customers. Another hour had passed and still no response. He couldn’t ignore the friction in his boxers at the mere thought of you, mind running wild once again, his thoughts alone pulled him through to lunchtime when he could finally see you.

The way he stormed into the shop, seeking you out in the back room, eyes dark with hunger as he stared you down made your heart flutter. His brow was furrowed and he looked like a man who was starved. You liked the effect that your little charade seemed to have on him, biting the inside of your lip to stop you from smiling.

“I don't find your little game funny, love." You simply cocked an eyebrow up at him before continuing with your sewing, the whirring of your machine filling the thick sexual tension in the air. There was an undeniable chemistry between you both, that was visible from the way you latched onto each other so quickly. You loved to see this side of him, less dominant but yet so desperate and needy.

“Uh huh,” you hummed nonchalantly as you pulled the material in the right direction, sending the machine whirring once more. Giving him the silent treatment was enough to send him wild. The sound of your machine muffled his steps as he drew closer to you, gentle touches over your exposed shoulder sending shivers along your skin. Your body wanted to give into him, let him have you right across your desk right here and now but the game was all too fun.

“The silent treatment, really doll?” You looked up at him with a smile as he uttered those words, your hand moving to hold his, pulling yourself up from the chair to fall into his hold, staring up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. You pushed yourself up onto your toes to press a kiss to the tip of his nose, breathing in the calming scent of his cologne and you did so.

“Didn’t you like the lingerie, Freddie?” you asked him innocently as you bat your eyelashes, he leaned in to try and kiss you properly but you quickly pressed a finger to his lips, pushing him away cheekily as you giggled.

“Buy me dinner first at least.”

And he did, he bought you several dinners in fact. You made sure to dress up nice for him, let him get hot and needy before making him wait. It had now been a month of torture for the poor boy, letting him get by on no more than kisses and a few lingering touches. You wanted him to feel that same way you felt after the night at Lee’s. You swore he would’ve stopped you by now, out of pure frustration but he continued enduring his own torture just as much as you continued dishing it out.

Being invited to watch the Star Seeker’s last game of the season and coincidentally the last game before her wedding, filled you with pure joy. You invited Fred, not that he needed inviting telling him that it would be a nice date, to which the smitten boy agreed. You held hands in the stands as you both cheered alongside George, who was beaming with pride, listening to Lee commentating the game over the arena speakers.

“You know Freddie, this reminds me a lot of our Hogwarts days... I miss being up in the commentators box, it had a much better view, though for what I was looking at, I think I’m in the best seats now.” You leaned up to press a kiss to his ear as you spoke, causing him to chuckle as you moved to press your lips to his, only to be met by his finger against your lips as he mimicked how you had treated him in your shop all those weeks ago.

“Just one kiss?” You pouted at him as he pulled you into a kiss, your heart leaping. Here Fred was, kissing you in front of everyone; his friends, family, press and every soul in the stadium but he didn’t care. The whole world could watch but he could only ever focus on you.

It had been a week now since that event, Fred was still on edge with all of the teasing, he had grown to expect It now, waking up to a cheeky message or a voicemail, That was if he wasn’t waking up to your arms wrapped around him. He was smitten by this point, absolutely enamoured by your very presence, he would do anything to make you smile.

“Joining Lee and I tonight, Freddie?” George asked with a small knock to his brother’s office door. He pondered on it before it struck him. If Lee was out, you were all alone, the thought made his heart skip a beat. The days you’d both stopped yourselves, making out like teenagers on the bed before realising your best friend was only in the other room always seemed to kill the mood.

“You know what, I don’t think I should be mixing with alcohol… A month sober and all.” Fred pled a fair case to his brother, a feasible enough excuse over the want to have a night with his girl. Even that sounded nice in his head, you being his girl. George nodded, suggesting a dinner instead, to which Fred shook his head again with a small laugh.

“For the love of god, go out, get smashed and please get Lee laid… he’s driving me mental.” George nodded, laugh falling from his lips as his hand reached out to pull the door closed behind him as he went to leave, mumbling a small ‘noted’ and gesturing a salute from behind the glass.

As the evening fell, the rain came with it - a light dreary drizzle and not heavy downpours but still rain nevertheless. You managed to beat the raindrops before they fell, returning to what you called home to strip off the day’s work clothes. Between appointments you’d finally managed to finish and perfect the gorgeous red set that you had started working on all those months ago, discarded on your dressing table as you pulled on a fresh pair of joggers and Fred’s sweater which he had let you keep in all this time, grateful for the company of his scent as you realised this may be the first time you had been alone in the night since you’d left Joe.

A knock at the front door made your heart pound out of your chest. Half of you wanted to ignore it but the curious half wanted to see who it was. Peeping through the looking glass to be met with the messy ginger locks you loved so much prompted you to pretty much swing the door open and jump into the unsuspecting boy’s arms, your legs wrapping around his torso.

"Hi handsome, thought you were going out with George and Lee?" You peppered kisses all over his face as you held his face in your hands, fingers splayed against his cold skin yet his actions were more than inviting. You soon found your back pressed against the wall, soft quick kisses soon replaced with deep, passionate ones, lips locked together as if your lives depended on it. His foot kicked the door closed his hands keeping your thighs in place as he asserted his dominance over you.

"I wanted you. Fuck, I've wanted you for weeks now, doll." You moaned and hummed against his lips with every kiss. It was electric the way his fingers touched you, everything from the cool sensation of the wall against your back to the heat of his shallow breaths fanning against your neck. You were nervous, wanting nothing but absolute perfection with the angel you cared so deeply about.

Fred really was an angel to you, he helped you feel like a person again.

“Please say something,” Fred whispered, forehead now pressed against your own. You hadn’t realised just how deep in thought you were until he spoke again, you could have swore you heard his voice crack ever so slightly as he uttered those words of vulnerability. You nudge your nose against his with a smile that leaves a reassured sigh escaping his lips just before you move once more, pulling him into another kiss, immediately feeling him relax as he closes the space between the both of you, effectively trapping you against the wall.

“Isn’t it obvious that I want you too, Fred?” He chuckled, holding your weight in his arms as he carried you through the halls to your bedroom. He pretended to drop you twice, both times you hit him on his chest, laughing together in the most gorgeous way, creating a harmony of giggles. Each time he feigned your fall from his arms, droplets of rain fell from his soaking hair onto your face.

“Oh yeah? Obvious is it?” His large hands gave your ass a playful squeeze before placing you on the bed. You leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek, pushing his wet hair back and out of his face. You caught how his eyes stared so lovingly at you, feeling butterflies in your stomach as he gave you his signature toothy grin. You stand from the bed, grabbing a towel that was hooked over the door to dry his gorgeous ginger locks.

"Sit down, let's get you dried." He blushed as he sat down on your mattress, tilting his head up towards you ever so slightly as you find your place between his legs while his hands rested gently on the backs of your thighs and you swore to yourself that you had never felt such fireworks linger upon your skin as they did with Fred Weasley. Those hands you had admired for so long, those hands that gripped onto his bat tightly during your school years and hit away bludgers and all had you swooning as you gripped the towel. You draped the towel over his head, giving his hair a rough towel dry and letting your fingertips press against his scalp gently through the soft fabric. When you left him to go and hang the slightly damp towel up once more, his gaze caught a glimpse of something bright in the corner of his eye. Upon further inspection from afar, that something bright was a beautiful red lace that had been thrown on your dressing table in a moment of relief after you had finished it. He stood, making his way to them out of curiosity, his fingers taking hold of the soft lace, immediately recognising the feel and the pattern. His breath hitched, gazing upon the sensual piece that had nonchalantly been draped upon your dresser, his gaze hadn’t left the fabric and he hadn’t even noticed you were staring at him with a lingering look in your eye, your heart beat beginning to pick up once more and this time it wasn’t because he was pretending to drop you.

"It's the material you first kissed me on." You pointed out, holding your hands together in front of your stomach that was now experiencing somersaults and that familiar feeling between your thighs welcomed itself once more as you swallowed thickly.

"I know… Is this for m–"

"Yes."

"Put it on then, petal. Do it for me." You could have sworn your cheeks were as red as the lace he was handing you, gripping onto the soft fabric with shaky hands. This was far from how you could have ever imagined your first time with Fred to have come about, a rain-soaked boy showing up at your door and taking your breath away with his kiss. The months of teasing were finally catching up and you had to take a moment to process it all as you retreated to your bathroom. Part of you wanted to change in front of him but more of you wanted it to be a surprise and if you were honest to yourself, part of you needed a moment before you faced him. To look at the reflection of a woman you hadn’t recognised in a long time and say ‘it’s okay’ because it was okay. This was Fred… it was Fred and you, no one else.

There was something different about the way you pulled the straps onto your bare shoulders, the way your hair frames your face as you dressed. A smile spread across your lips and you blushed to yourself, how long had it been since you had felt like this? Something like this was truly paradise felt on earth amidst the darkness you had long been suffering within. Joe wasn’t here, you reminded yourself as you exhaled and glanced towards the door and you felt reassured by your inner thoughts.

He had begun to pace about your room as he waited for you to return, feeling an unfamiliar wave in his stomach. Never in his life had he been nervous about intimacy with a woman, but when it came to you he couldn’t help the fluttery feeling that consumed him with every step. Fred had to remind himself that it was you, not anyone else, not Cherry, his exes or one of his lame one night stands. Lastly, it wasn’t the woman he had been pining for ever since he could remember… the one who chose his brother instead of him. It was a woman who he truly felt something for, a something that he didn’t want to ruin. He hadn’t even noticed your return, staring out of the window as he was consumed by his own thoughts. Your arms snaking around his waist as you pressed yourself into his back, snapped him away from his feelings of nerves and self doubt because he had you there.

“We still don’t have to do this, you know.” You whispered softly as your cheek pressed against his damp t-shirt, his hands coming to cover yours, giving them a reassuring squeeze as he let out a deep exhale. He didn’t have to worry around you, he didn’t have to fear that it was Cherry’s touch masked as yours. He knew that it was you in the way he could have sworn your hearts beat together. There were no words that could have ever described the way you made him feel.

“I want this.” he mumbled, as he shook his head, mostly at the way a leech like Cherry still was able to plague his thoughts in his most vulnerable moments. Turning in your arms, your eyes meet his face which is plastered with a deep smile, biting the inside of your cheek when you realise that you are stood half-naked but pressed against the fully clothed man. Against the man who had plagued your daydreams years ago and now your thoughts at night. He took your hand in his, stepping away for a moment before lifting your arm over your head to make you twirl in front of him. The sight of you took his breath away, solidifying the thought in his brain that you truly were a goddess. Fathoming that you were his to kiss and hold made his heart race out of his chest.

“You’re beautiful.” He managed to only just choke out the compliment as his other hand found your jaw to pull you into a kiss. Nothing had ever felt so right to him than the crave of intimacy with you right now, you let him guide your bodies, your skin now flush against the cool sheets while he leant over you. Standing up briefly he pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his toned torso that made you feel weak, counting yourself lucky that you were laying down otherwise you would have surely buckled at the knees.

Fred knew that the minute he had the opportunity to, he would take his time in worshiping every dip and curve of your body, no matter how long or tedious the process was. His hot open mouthed kisses started at your jaw, it was intoxicating to feel him mumble praise between each kiss, telling you about just how breath-taking you were to him and how much influence you had on him. His kisses along your neck left marks not to claim you but to show you just how much he cared without having to say the words. His lips travelled down to pepper kisses down the valley of your breasts, his slow pace made you grab his face with both hands.

“Don’t be a tease, Freddie.” He chuckled, his hands wrapping around your wrists, pulling them away from his face so that he could press a sweet kiss to the insides of your palms, the hint of a smirk hanging off his lips as he did so. His fingertips grazed over your skin as they ran down your arms, sending goosebumps firing over your skin. His laugh sent every good feeling of pleasure through your veins. His hands went to his belt, immediately he thought of all the ways that this could go wrong, the image of your pained expression and the way you cried into his chest sinking his heart once more. He pondered for a moment before he asked, hardly above a whisper, ‘do you want to?’ before gesturing to the belt buckle.

You felt your heart stop, remembering how you had stopped yourself going this far before, feeling a sense of calm fall over you as you reached to undo the belt buckle. You knew that this gesture alone was enough for you to realise that Fred really did care about your comfort, he wanted you to feel as if you were in control of the situation, not forced or pressured but completely at your own free will to pull away or stop but you didn’t. You slowly unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops before setting it down on the bed, smiling up at him.

“No more teasing, yeah?” You nodded, pressing your lips to his again as your hands found the back of his head, giving the now damp hair a gentle tug.

No more teasing.

taglist // @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @pansydaisy @vogueweasley @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @darthwheezely @thisismynerdyself @witch-and-a-half @loony-loopy-lupinn @rip-us @hopemalfoyweasley @pigwidgexn-deactivated20210125 @softlyqoos @colorfulprofessornickelangel @fandomscombine @satellitespidey @txtdreamss @aaannabbanana @starkidpotty @mollydarling-hphm @amwithers2001 @asthmax @sarcasticallywitty15 @whizboingies @rosietoesy

#Fake It Fic #Till You Make It Fic #Fake It Till You Make It #george weasley x reader #george weasley #harry potter #fred and george #george weasley fic #harry potter fic #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #weasley twins #fred weasley x y/n #george and fred weasley #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fic #harry potter writing

101 notes · View notes

maysbanks · 4 years

Text

she moves in her own way. (jj maybank)

due to the ASTOUNDING response to my first jj fic which i have to say a huuuge thank you to everyone that liked, commented & reblogged, it honestly means the absolute world !! i couldn't wait much longer to start writing for my boy again, i have so many fic ideas and cannot wait to get them out to y'all. this one is shorter than the last, & the title is inspired from the song 'she moves in her own way' by the kooks (lol) but isn't necessarily based off of it, it's just something that i wrote up quickly bc i was in my feels™️ . also i feel very unoriginal with the whole plot and aspect of this but im gonna post it anyway bc i love jj lmao. anyway hope u enjoy !

warnings: swearing, underage drinking, drug use, violence, jj with a gun™️

summary: reader walks the fine line between either pogue or kook, though technically a kook, she ignores all social standings of the obx and jj maybank cannot stop himself from getting caught up in her whirlwind.

( gif isn’t mine! please let me know if it’s yours so i can credit you. )

Everyone seemed to have a different perspective of you, unsurprisingly. You weren't really much of a social butterfly, you kept yourself to yourself, really. Nobody in the Outer Banks knew much about you at all, other than what they had come up with in their heads. And while you tried your best to stay in the shadows, that only seemed to make you stand out more.

You were known for being the best of both worlds - not really a Pogue, but not really a Kook either. While your social status and family wealth suggested you to be a Kook, your free spirit and reckless behaviour fitted you better towards the Pogue style. If anyone were to ask you, you told them you were neither.

Why should a name define you anyway? You thought it was all bullshit, the stupid territorial arguments and the snide comments from both sides. You thought it was ridiculous, you weren't living in The Outsiders, for fuck sake.

You moved in your own way, simple as that. You wouldn't let anyone tell you what to do, where you can't or shouldn't be, it was a free country you'd say, middle finger salute ready to aim towards anyone who dared cross you. You were an enigma, wild and careless, unforgiving and unforgettable. You didn't necessarily like the attention, but you got it. And you knew it, and you played on it, too.

You had used your irresistible charm more than enough times to bail JJ Maybank out of trouble, despite your parents' protest. They didn't have a problem with the Pogues, persay, how could they when your dad been one half of his life before meeting your mom and marrying into the rich lifestyle; they just had a problem with JJ, as many of the parents on the island did. He was an unstoppable force to be reckoned with, weed smoking, knuckles constantly torn, skin bruised, quick wit, sarcastic humour, daddy issues, you know the type. Kids loved him, parents hated him.

You were friends with JJ, you supposed. You spent your time with him talking about your days and smoking a joint, meaningful conversations turning into joking and general tomfoolery within seconds. With JJ, you were simply unapologetically you, and JJ never judged you. He never made you choose a side, seemingly content with the fact that you were a little bit of everything, though there was times when he teased you relentlessly about the Kook life, but that was just JJ.

And despite the social differences, him being a Pogue through and through, you technically a Kook, you were drawn to each other pretty easily. Not that you hung out all the time, but you loved every second when you did, usually joined by his group of best friends - John B, Pope, and Kiara. With Kiara a Kook herself but drawn more to the lifestyle of the Pogue's, she understood you more than anyone. You'd bonded a lot, and with each of them too.

JJ loved that you fitted in with them, like a missing puzzle piece. So perfectly, it shook him to its core. The pair of you were close, but he had no idea where he stood with you, like most people never when it came to you. You were like a rollercoaster, taking people for the most exciting ride of their lives that lasted a full three or so minutes before they returned back to solid ground. You'd given JJ a ride a number of times on your non-existent metaphorical rollercoaster, and he'd returned for another ride time and time again. You couldn't say no to that damned boy.

It was a blessing and a curse, the unspoken relationship you shared. A blessing because JJ was the best thing that happened to you, and a curse because that was your downfall. You never got attached to people, never given yourself the chance. But then JJ Maybank had come along, blonde hair and blue eyes, split lip and sharpened teeth, words cunning. You saw him as a challenge at first, the name Kook Princess haunting you as he spoke them, stood in front of you at the keg upon your first real meeting. He'd held a drink out towards you, smirk perfect on his pink lips.

You'd attended over a hundred kegger's in your lifetime, the Pogue parties more inviting than those of the Kook's. You danced and talked to anyone that came across your path, whether it be unknowing Tourons, unjudging Pogues, or unforgiving Kooks, you drew them all in. You didn't fit in with any of them, JJ had realised. You really did move in your own way, he thought. He liked that, he'd decided. And hey, you were pretty cute too.

On that particular night, he'd spoken to you directly for the first time in a long time. "Would the Kook Princess like a drink?" He'd asked, holding the red cup out towards you. You'd eyed the offended object, and subsequently him, too. He smirked at the attention. You had rolled your eyes.

"Don't call me that," you'd said simply, but taking the cup from his hands regardless. You took a sip, relieved to discover that he hadn't tampered with it in any way. You were still considered a Kook to most people, after all. You could never be too careful. "Thanks, Maybank."

And he'd blinked at you, lips suddenly raising to a sly smile as he shrugged, dimples winking at you as they appeared in his cheeks. "Anytime," and he'd spoken your name back to you and you couldn't get enough of the way it sounded coming from his mouth, and you realised hey, this guy is pretty cute, and the rest, as they, is history.

You were in the midst of another infamous Pogue kegger at the current, months after your first introduction to JJ Maybank and his friends, and you stood off to the side, listening to JJ intently as he ranted about the events of the day he'd endured. Starting from finding a Grady White sunken in the marsh, "A fucking Grady Marsh, they're like 500 G's man!", to discovering that the boat belonged to Scooter Grubbs, who had coincidentally been found dead that same day, to getting chased by two guys with a gun, to the finding of the motel key from the wreck and breaking in that same motel room, finding a safe full of money and a gun of all things, to their best attempt at laying low which, unsurprisingly, resulted in the kegger in the first place.

JJ was wild in his recite of the events, hands gesturing every which way as you watched him with your lips curled into your mouth, resisting a smile at his antics. When he finished he retelling, you raised an eyebrow and chuckled dryly. "So, complete and utter boring day for you, huh?"

JJ chuckled along with you, shaking his head as if he was still in disbelief from everything that had happened in the past twenty four hours. "Man, it was crazy," he muttered. He looked at you then, eyes sincere. "I wish you were there with us. It was like something straight from a movie, I'm telling you. I feel like such a badass with that gun."

Your secret joy at his confession of that he wished you were was short lived, as the last of his words sunk in and you felt dread build in the pit of your stomach. You stared at him, him so excited that he hadn't even realised your face had dropped, before you reached out and grabbed his arm, effectively halting his movements and stopping the hurried flow of words that were leaving his mouth.

"JJ," you said carefully, eyes trained on his as he stared, clueless. "Please tell me you did not take that gun from the safe."

Your heart dropped as you saw him falter, his lips helplessly moving but no words coming out. He held a hand up, as if to hush you, though you hadn't started to speak again, and then his hand had dropped just as quick as it was raised, his teeth biting down on his chapped lip as the realisation dawned on you.

"JJ Fucking Maybank," you spat, hands slapping gently at his arms, because you could never really hurt him, you just wanted him to know you were pissed. "Do you realise how fucking careless that is? How much trouble you could get into, if anyone knew you had a gun-" your voice trailed off, your eyes closing as you exhaled. "JJ, please tell me you don't have it on you right now."

His lack of reply was the only answer you needed, and your stomach churned as you stepped back from his figure, suddenly feeling sick. He followed you, though, not letting you get too far as he took your arms in his hands and tried to drag you closer to him once more. You shook your head, arms slipping from his hold as you glared at him fiercely.

"That's so fucking stupid, JJ. You could get into serious trouble with this, trouble I won't be able to get you out of." You warned, because you knew it was true. Your charm and looks could get him out of some trouble to its extent, but it was more so your parents wealth and status that got the both of you out of shit when you managed to get into it, and you also knew your parents would literally throw a fit if you got involved in something like this - carrying a gun was no joking matter. You stepped back once more, hand finding its way to your forehead. "And from a crime scene, no less. Fucking hell."

JJ licked his lips, standing back roughly as you watched, his jaw clenching. "Well I'm not asking for your help here, Princess," he taunted, the nickname sending a wave of annoyance through you. JJ knew it would. "It's not like I ask you to help me, you're just there. Thinking I need help, like I'm some fucking charity case, a fucking doll you picked up from the thrift store that was gonna be thrown out the next day."

You tried to protest, but JJ didn't give you the chance. "I don't need your help all the fucking time. I don't need your pity. I get that you won't understand because why would you? You're a Kook, you get everything you want handed to you on a silver platter. And you can argue and fight me about it all you want, but I know you know it's true."

He sighed heavily, hands running down his face in a sign of defeat. You watched him all the while, thankful that you had ventured off the outskirts of the party so that hopefully nobody had heard JJ shouting at you, your heart wrenching as his blue eyes settled on you. "I'm sorry, JJ," you said finally. You refused to cry, though the desire to at the sight of him being so mad at you tore you apart. "I'm just trying to look out for you. With the gun thing, with everything that I help you with. And I know I'm a Kook, and I know that my parents could afford to buy half of this fucking island if they pleased, but that doesn't define me. I care, okay? And I know I care a lot more than a lot of people in your life."

It was probably a low blow, and you knew it. But JJ took it in, let the words sink into his brain where they stayed there, his fists clenching at his sides. You crossed your arms over your chest, defeated.

"I'm gonna go back to the party," you whispered. "I'll see you around, I guess." You eyed his pockets, unsure of where exactly he held the gun. "Be careful, okay."

And even when you were angry with him, you still tried to make sure he was okay, that he stayed safe. There was multiple occasions you'd showed up unannounced, simply asking how his day was, if he okay, if he had eaten that day, stayed hydrated. At first the attention startled him, he'd never really had anyone look out for him in that aspect, and yet there you were, like an angel sent from the gods themselves, smiling down at him.

You cared, he realised. You cared so much that sometimes he couldn't take it, because he didn't know how. The most family he'd ever gotten close to having in his life was the Pogues, after losing his mother and subsequently losing his father too as he turned into the monster that he was, cold and distant, fists always poised ready for an imaginary fight, and he knew that someday the Pogues would even slip through his fingers. He couldn't let that happen with you. He wouldn't.

He'd started off in your direction, truly, he had. But then John B was grabbing him and averting his attention to him, and he focused on his friend, promising only a minute of his time. You were in his sights, stood a bit away, and he recognised the couple you were talking to as Sarah Cameron and Topper Thorton, Kooks through and through. He held his distaste back, and even held a drink out to offer to Sarah as she and Topper made their way past where he and John B were standing. Big fucking mistake, he realised quickly.

It had all happened in a blur of events, each little bit leading to big finale - as he watched his best friend being held down in the water, powerless to Topper who kneeled over him, hands forcing John B to stay put in the sea. Sarah was screaming at Topper, Pope was holding JJ back with all his might, Kie beside them as she screamed along with Sarah to let John B go. And there you were, suddenly beside JJ, gripping his arm tightly as you took in the sight with a horrified glare. JJ didn't even hesitate; the gun had been pulled from his shorts and was directed at Topper's head in the blink of an eye.

The fury in his veins was red hot and ugly, tearing through every part of him like a vice. This was the Pogues land, their side of the island, and yet the Kooks still thought they could get away with anything and everything - including, apparently, attempting to drown his best friend.

"Your move, broski," JJ uttered through clenched teeth. He could hear the screams of the crowd behind him, and he pulled the gun away from Topper's head and into the direction of the sky, firing two shots towards it as the crowd of people quickly dispersed, screeches sounding from all over. "Now everybody needs to get the fuck off our side of the island!"

He was shoved to the side as Sarah rushed to her boyfriend, telling him he was fucking crazy or something like that, he wasn't really listening. The shots rang in his ears, and the adrenaline of the moment soured through him. Kie and Pope were screaming at him, he could hear their voices distantly. His blue eyes were unfocused for a second, before they looked up, and there you were.

Sent from the gods themselves, once again. You looked vibrant, so insanely alive, lips red and cheeks flushed, eyes bright. You let out a shaky breath as you watched him. JJ clenched his jaw.

"He was going to drown John B," he thought he'd said, but he wasn't sure. He didn't really know what to keep track of at that moment, Kie and Pope's obvious disapproval at him literally doing the one thing they swore not to do, Sarah and Topper stumbling away from the scene in the distance, John B getting up and muttering something along the lines of he wasn't going to drown me, or you, simply staring at him.

Before he knew what he was doing, JJ had made his way towards you. The gun was still held in his hands, and you swallowed thickly as you eyed it. "You should put that away," you muttered. JJ seemed confused, before he caught on to what you meant and he shoved the gun back to the spot of in between his shorts and his hip. "You literally did the one thing I said not to, you tool."

JJ cracked a smile, small and uncertain as he gazed at you. You stepped closer to him, eyes glancing over his shoulder. "You really pissed them off," you said, meaning his friends.

JJ shrugged, because he didn't care about their opinion, he cared about yours. And if you hated him now, hated the fact that he was just some dirty Pogue who held guns against people's heads now, apparently. "I don't care about what they think," he spoke softly. You looked at him confused. "I care about what you think."

You smiled softly, shrugging one shoulder. "Topper was going to drown John B," you replied, matter of fact. "If you hadn't stepped in when you did, who knew what could have happened. Nothing could have stopped him." You bit your lip, hand reaching out and touching his face gently, thumb soothing over the worried line between his brows. "You did the right thing, J. A fucking crazy and stupid thing, potientally dangerous, but the right thing nonetheless."

"Yeah, that's kind of my go-to, if you haven't already noticed," JJ smiled, tongue running over his bottom lip. You rolled your eyes, though playful. "Look, I'm sorry about before, okay. I was a dick. I know you care, but sometimes that's what scares me."

Your eyebrows furrowed, a confused expression on your face as your hand dropped from his face to intertwine with his own hand, his gaze suddenly becoming fixed on your linked hands, his other absentmindedly playing with your fingers that held his hand.

"It's like, you're this untouchable thing. I mean, you don't belong to anyone, you refuse to go by anything other than your name, and you're like this perfect mix between Pogue and Kook even if you do hate it and everyone knows who are you and they make these stories up about you, like that's how popular you are," JJ chuckled. "And then you hang out with me, you look past all the dirty Pogue shit, see me for who I am, and you care. And you care so god dammed much that it fucking terrifies me because nobody's ever cared that much before about me, so why should you?"

His hand left yours to remove the hat from sitting atop his hair and then run his hand through the blonde locks. You could see his tongue running along the outsides of his bottom teeth, the action causing a bump beneath his skin. He looked nervous than you had ever seen him before, and you'd both gotten into enough nerve-wracking situations together to compare. You sighed as your hands reached for his face, gripping his cheeks and forcing his eyes to gaze down at yours.

"JJ Maybank," you started, grinning softly. "You listen to me while I tell you that you deserve the fucking world and more. All this shit that you're going through, all the crap you deal with on a daily basis, you carry it so well that nobody would even know. You fight through each day and I don't even know how you manage it half the time. I admire you so much, J. And I can't help but care about you, even if you don't want me to. I care about you so much, that you wanna know a secret? It scares me too."

JJ gazed down at you lovingly, his forehead moving to rest against yours. You welcomed the embrace, his arms wrapping around your waist and squeezing you gently, as if reassuring himself that you were actually there.

"JJ," you whispered as you were stood in silence for a precise minute, neither of you daring to break the silence until you had. His blue eyes stared into yours, awaiting the next part of your speech. You swallowed your nerves down, figuring fuck it. "I'm so in love with you."

He grinned, his head swooping down before you knew it and his lips pressing against yours in a heated embrace that sent a sensation of butterflies to fly wildly in your stomach, bashing against your ribcage and taking your breath away. Shivers flew up your spine, and every hair on your body stood on edge as the kiss grew heavier, tongues brushing and teeth clattering, bodies pressed against each other as much as they could manage.

When JJ's lips left yours, you almost whined. JJ grinned cheekily, hands digging into your hips. "I love you," he breathed against the skin of your neck as he buried his head there, lips tickling the flesh. "I can't believe you just macked on me while I have a gun in my pocket."

You rolled your eyes and tugged gently on his hair, spurring a laugh from him as you shoved him away and grinned despite yourself. "Do not remind me, please," you warned him, allowing him to pull you into his side as you made your way down the beach. "I still can't believe you took that thing."

"I knew it'd come in handy though," he grinned, pulling you closer with the arm thrown over your shoulder. You wrapped yours around his waist, face squished in his chest as you shook your head.

"You're an idiot, Maybank."

274 notes · View notes

yuzuriha-sayori · 4 years

Note

hello! i really fell in love with benimaru taking care of a sick reader (；ω；) can i ask a nsfw scenario with him x reader ( something like “please be gentle” and he is like “ no” ) im sorry if this is a very stupid request (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

You asked and I finally answered! Thank you for waiting so long and so patiently as I worked through my writer’s block. I hope you enjoy this little fic that took me way too long to write! I enjoyed writing it nonetheless, dom Beni is just…yes.

NSFW Shinmon Benimaru x F!Reader

Don’t make demands of Shinmon Benimaru

Benimaru was a man of many things; quick tempered, blunt, yet hard working and respectable. However, patience was not one of those things. And for the past several days, his patience was constantly being tested. The culprit, a cute little vixen who spent most of her time causing quite the trouble for him. While he spent his days doing paperwork and cleaning up the mess that he created after Infernals would break out, she spent it causing mischief around him as if it was second nature. Not in the form of real crimes but it certainly it must be a crime somewhere.

“Shinmon-saaaaan~!” The soft mewl of the culprit at large startled the Captain out of his work. He had been writing down the reports of the recent SHC in Asakusa, a young woman who ran a vegetable stall. It was while he was working on the report that [y/n] decided to pay him a visit. She had snuck up behind him as he sat in the guest room. She wrapped her arms around his waist and placed a delicate kiss just below his ear. The feeling sent a jolt down to his stomach and he furrowed his brow.

“[y/n], don’t you see I’m busy? Go find something entertaining like pestering Konro.” Benimaru said, trying to shrug the young woman off of him. He was met with blatant protest.

“I don’t want to!” She whined, nipping at his neck. “You haven’t spent time with me in weeks, I’m beginning to think that you’re not interested in me anymore.”

The raven-haired man had to fight of the urge to let out the grunt that began to travel out his mouth at the feeling of her nipping at his neck. He had so little patience. It not that he wasn’t interested in her, it’s that her drive had been out of control lately and he always ended up pounding her into the sheets until morning, leaving barely any time for him to complete his tasks.

[y/n] didn’t take being ignored lightly so she moved in front of him and slid into his lap, rolling her hips against him so he could feel the scorching heat between her legs. Her hands snaked over his shoulders and she buried her face into the crook of his neck, the warmth of her breath fanning over his sensitive skin. “But I need you. Pleeeease.” Her voice was soft and desperate, and it would have been a lie if he said he wasn’t thinking about shoving her down right then in there and making a mess of her throbbing cunt that was soaking into his pants.

His lips parted to let out a throaty moan but caught it in his throat and grabbed her by the shoulders, pushing her back. “[y/n] I’m not going to say it again, not right now. I’ll make time for you later. I’m busy.”

His lover pouted, tears threatening to spill over, but she nodded in understanding. After removing herself from his lap, she stopped at the door and glanced once more over at Benimaru to see that he was back to staring at his papers. She did the same thing every time she pestered him; he had learned her routine down to the time. About two hours later, she would come to him asking for snacks, tea, or a walk and try to tease him again until he couldn’t stand it and was sending her off again.

Finally done with his work, he realized it had gotten quite late. Where was [y/n]? He realized that she didn’t come to pester him. It was strange at first, but he dismissed it and though that she must have went home. After a few stretches to loosen the tight muscles of sitting down for so long, he made his way to the bath house for a soak. Usually by now, she was trying to find her way in, or was already in but there was no sign of [y/n]. Throughout the entire time he was bathing, he heard no peep of her. “[y/n]?” He called out. Maybe she was hiding? But still no sound. An uneasy feeling settled into his stomach. It’s not like he wanted her to come bug him, he rarely had time for himself. He just wasn’t used to it.

The sound of feet hitting the tiled ground of the bathhouse made him whip around expectantly only to be met with his Lieutenant’s confused and slightly amused expression. “I didn’t see or hear [y/n] around here so I thought it was clear to take a bath. What’s with that face Waka? Disappointed?”

Benimaru furrowed his brows and the corners of his lips tugged down into a frown. “I’m not disappointed.”

“Well, I did see [y/n] leave a couple of hours ago after having a stroll with Hika and Hina.” He watched as Benimaru’s shoulders sank ever so slightly and then raise to hoist himself out of the bath. “Maybe she’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Well, I hope not.” His Captain said, throwing his dark blue striped robe around him and tying it. He ran his fingers through his hair, combing the wet strands back away from his face. “I have a lot of work tomorrow too and don’t need more distraction. Enjoy your bath.”

“You know, you should really let me handle some, I’m your Lieutenant after all.”

Benimaru didn’t answer him as he walked out of the bathhouse and towards his room. He didn’t know how to explain what he was feeling. Slightly irritated? No, there wasn’t a reason to. He didn’t miss her, or at least that’s what he told himself. His mind wandered back to the events of earlier, where [y/n] was desperately grinding against him. He could feel how aroused she was just by the heat radiating between her legs. It took only seconds for her to soak down to his cock.

Just the thought of how he could’ve taken her then caused heat to flow down to his dick and swell up. “Fucking shit, now? Really?” He groaned at how painful it was becoming and hurried to his room. It had been quite some time since he took care of it. Actually, it was always [y/n] taking care of it for him. He cursed at himself. And he was the one who sent her away.

Finally at his door, relief flooded through him. All he could think about was how he was going to be able to take care of his problem when he slid open his door. However, there were other plans waiting for him.

Prostrated with their ass to him and stark naked on the bed was [y/n]. Benimaru’s eyes flew open is confusion and surprised. “[y/n]? What the hell are you doing here? I thought you left.”

“I couldn’t stand it anymore…Beni…please.” Two delicate fingers reached down to spread her dripping lips apart, juices running down her thighs and dripping onto the bed. The sight sucked the air right out of his lungs. His already painful erection began to pulsate in need, wanting to feel the clenching of her walls around him. He could see how bad she wanted him, and damn did he want her too.

He made his way to her in only a few strides, standing behind her and taking a good look at how much she was pining for him. “You didn’t come pester me for the rest of the day.” Smack. A startled yelp left [y/n]’s lips.

“You told me not to.” She turned to look at him and was met with a deadpan expression. Smack. Another small cry was brought out of her.

“Don’t backtalk me.” His voice was calm but [y/n] could feel the irritation in it. Was he upset at her for being in his room or for listening? He wasn’t even sure at this point, but he felt the need to punish her. Untying his robe, he let it slip from his shoulders and down to pool around his feet. His erection stood proudly, each vein prominent on the sensitive skin of his shaft. Crouching down to position himself behind her, he gave himself a few pumps and lined his member up to her eager hole. He could feel the pulsing of her pink entrance just ready to swallow whole.

“Please hurry~!” [y/n] whined. It earned her another slap on her ass. Though painful, it caused her cunt to flow with more juices and Benimaru took the liberty of smearing it all over his length.

“Naughty girls don’t get to make requests. You do as I say.” Another whine left [y/n]’s lips but she wouldn’t dare say another word against him. This was the first time in weeks he’d shown her any sexual interest. He grabbed her hips roughly in his big hands and rolled his hips as his cock slid between her pink folds, the head of his cock teased her clit and occasionally her entrance. “You pester me for weeks on end and think you can make demands of me?”

“N-No sir.” Her voice was shaky and soft, her mind was too focused on the sensation of him between her legs. Such little teasing and she was already at her limit. “Beni wait…! I’m…I-I’m-!” The first orgasm in weeks that weren’t by her own fingers washed through her like a violent storm. Her legs shook at her whole body tensed up as a feral moan drew from her mouth. Her legs started to relax and go limp and she would have collapsed completely onto the futon if it weren’t for Benimaru’s solid grasp on her.

It would be a lie to say that he wasn’t immensely turned on by the fact she got off just by him teasing her, but he wasn’t having her give out just yet. “I haven’t even put it in and you’re already finishing? I don’t think so you little minx.” Positioning the tip to her entrance again, he slammed into her without giving her the chance to recover. The sudden intrusion caused her to buck forward and cry out.

“W-Wait please I’m still really sensitive.” [y/n] whimpered. Her walls clenched tightly around him that it was almost uncomfortable for both. It’d been quite a while since she took his impressively large member in that she wasn’t prepared for him to stretch her out so suddenly. The feeling of being so full so quickly ignited a fire in her belly.

“What did I say about making demands?” Benimaru pulled out only to slam back into her. Gritting his teeth, he let out a deep growl. “Fuck it’s almost hard to pull out, you’re gripping my cock like your life depends on it. Miss me that much?”

[y/n] could only let out soft pants in pleasure as her legs trembled. She was so sensitive, and he wasn’t giving her any time to adjust. She felt as if she was going to drown in pleasure. “Please…please be gentle.” She pleaded once more. If he kept being as rough as he was, she didn’t think she’d be able to walk out of here any time soon.

Benimaru’s hand shot out the grab a fistful of [y/n]’s [h/c] locks, strands tangling in-between his fingers, and pulled her up as he leaned down to let his lips graze her ear.

“No.”

He could feel her clench down around him which caused his voice to come out huskier than he intended. It was hard to speak when her tight walls didn’t want to let him go. He kept one hand in her hair, and the other gripping her hip as he started drilling into her sloppily wet cunt.

“Beni…oh my…my god…fuck!” Each thrust sent jolts of electricity coursing through [y/n]’s body. It wasn’t that long ago that she had her first orgasm of the night and the second one was approaching at terrifying speeds. His brutal strokes did not help. He rocked his hips into her harshly, the sound of skin slapping against skin vibrated off the walls. He didn’t care who heard, his only focus was fucking the life out of [y/n].

Strings of curses and pleas fell on deaf ears as he continued pounding into her. The soft warm feeling of her slick walls was something he missed terribly and wondered why it took him this long to treat himself to her wanting cunt. “Fuck [y/n] how can you be this tight still?” He figured it would take a bit for her to relax around him, but she was still clutching on him for dear life, crying out his name as if it were the only word she knew.

His voice was all it took to send his lover over the edge as another orgasm racked her body. The sudden tightness made his hips stutter and he had to still himself less he spilled all that he had saved up into her right that moment. “[y/n]…shit…!”

Her orgasm was so intense that she sobbed out his name and he released her hair and stroked her back to comfort her through it. “That’s it, just relax…” Her body was slick with sweat and he was getting quite worked up himself. Strands of his raven hair was plastered to his forehead and sweat ran down his chest. His cock was still buried deep inside her, the tip pressed right up against her cervix. Her body still trembled as he began slowly rolling his hips. He was going to get one or two more out of her before he emptied himself into her. But at this rate, he might only get one because he was close to his limit.

“I can’t…Beni I can’t!” Her voice was a pitch too high and the only thing she could see were stars. She was going to go crazy if he kept moving. “Please it’s too much.”

“You wanted this so bad, you’re going to take what I give you. I’m going to give you a week’s worth of orgasms.” Benimaru began picking up the pace but his strokes were gentle this time. “You won’t be able to walk straight for days.”

[y/n]’s moans came out more as sobs and sharp cries as he fucked her. The pleasure was too intense. She was going to break if she came again. Benimaru didn’t care if he made her go crazy, this was exactly what she asked for. Both hands gripped her hips as he took a steady pace thrusting in and out of her. The tight feeling in his gut was growing and he clenched his teeth. He was determined to make her cum one more time. One hand let go of her hip to slide down between her legs and his fingers made quick work of her clit. [y/n] immediately clamped down around his cock.

“N-No please don’t! I can’t!” She tried to pry his hand away, but he was much stronger. He could feel that another orgasm was about come over her with how high her voice was getting, and how tighter she was becoming. His free arm went to scoop her up so that her back was to his chest as he rutted up into her. One arm held her as he bounced her up and down his cock while he teased her swollen pink bud.

“That’s it, come for me sweetheart.” His pace quickened to catch up to her orgasm, letting soft grunts fall from his lips. The heat building in his stomach became more intense and his strokes became sloppy as he slammed into her, hitting her cervix with each stroke.

“A-Ahh!” [y/n] screamed once more as explosive pleasure made work of her soul. She shuddered intensely, eyes rolling to the back of her head, and tongue lolling out of her mouth. Saliva ran down her chin from the corners of her mouth from sheer bliss. It only took a few more juts of his hips before all of Benimaru’s saved up cum finally burst free, his balls tightening as he came. A strained moan came out as he wrapped his arms around her and buried himself as deep as he could get, pushing up against her cervix. He buried his face into the crook of her neck and let out another moan against her skin, his hips jerking a few times. It felt like he was cumming forever as spurts of his seed coated every inch inside her and spilled out, running down his twitching balls and dribbling onto the futon.

“Shit…” He lifted her limp body off of him and more of his thick seed came gushing from her twitching hole. A whimper left her as he pulled out. He did tell himself that he was going to make a mess of her, but he didn’t consider the bed apart of the equation. Sighing softly, he gently laid her down and used his robe to clean her up, then himself, and then wiped all of his cum off his bed.

[y/n]’s body finally stopped twitching but forming words were still too much for her. “You…are…You’re mean…” She mumbled, eyes half lidded. He figured she was still off in her own little world as he laid down beside her after tossing his robe to the other side of the room. “You say that while your face shows contentment.”

“Shut up.” She weakly smacked his chest as he was pulling to covers up over them, but it only caused him to chuckle lightly.

“The twins hit harder than that.”

[y/n] could only grumble in response. Silence fell upon them and he figured she must have finally passed out. He was dozing off himself, completely spent after all the work he put into destroying her insides, when he heard his lover’s soft voice, “Beni…?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to cuddle you.” He didn’t answer right away, kind of perplexed. He didn’t know why she was saying that as if to ask him. She usually did it anyways, clinging to him almost every night she could like he wouldn’t be there when she woke up. Though it was kind of cute if she was asking.

“You can?”

There was a long moment of silence before she responded and he thought she passed out when she finally spoke, “I…I can’t move my legs…”

A surprisingly hearty laugh left Benimaru. Of all the things, he didn’t expect to fuck [y/n] that hard. They had rough sex before, but he guessed it really must have been quite some time if she couldn’t move her legs. He felt a bit satisfied as he pulled her to him and hiked her leg up and over him. Her arm snaked up his chest and to his head, fingers running through still damp hair and rested there, a content smile on her face. He kissed the top of her head and watched her doze off, following moments after. She really was a little vixen, and she always got her way.

#shinmon benimaru #benimaru x reader #fire force #x reader

1K notes · View notes

honeyyu · 4 years

Text

Sold | Nct - 002

Summary: Cho Miso lives a difficult life, she works full time jobs to take care of her sick mom. One of those jobs being an secretary to the most rich man of seoul. As she tries to take care of everyhing, she goes looking for her dad who had left them for almost 5 years now. Coming into the life of her dad she was caught up by formal parties and events, her dad finally identifying her as his daughter. And before she could even realize, she was bought by a group powerful rich men who called themselves NCT to be their new secretary.

Masterlist

Genre: Smut (+slight angst?) and a little bit fluff

Warnings: None (only one swear word)

Word count: 2.4K

Notes: This chapter doesn’t contain any smut. I try to make this kinda like a real story that why I don’t go straight into the smut. Im sorry!! I think maybe in 2/3 chapters there will be some. Im just trying to introduce the nct members slowly. I hope this isn’t disappointing :/ Last thing, I think its Kims not Kim’s but Kim’s looks cooler idk why lol

The rest of the work day went by faster then I thought. None of the 3 Kim’s found out about the accident luckily. I did tell Tiffany, one of the personal assistants. She is also the one i’m close friends with, the one who gave the flowers I totally ruined. She could only laugh when I told her,” I already made copies of the most of them. So don’t worry about them finding out. I will email you the copies and you can retype the ones who aren’t there!” I couldn’t tell her how grateful I was. The most I could do for now was give her a big hug.

It was already passed workhours for me but at home I didn’t have access to a laptop or computer so I had to finish everything here. In the email Tiffany send me most of the papers were there, I mean the copies. I went through the now dried papers and got rid of the ones Tifanny copied. Now there were around twenty papers left for me to retype, and copy immediately before something would happen again.

All of the papers were about interviews or letters who needed to be send to other important companies. Before starting I looked at the clock on the wall behind Tiffany’s desk, who was out to get coffee for our bosses. The other two were busy moving from meeting to meeting together with the two other Kim’s.

The time on the clock was 4 pm. My mind wandered off for a second, thinking about what kind of food I should buy for dinner tonight. This job made me earn a fair amount of money. But most of it went to the debts we had to pay. And the hospital bills for my mom. This week she would stay with me until I had enough money to buy the hospital bills again.

“Ah I should really work on those papers.” I snapped myself back to reality upon seeing the papers I had to write before 6 because I would always have dinner at 6 with my mom but I didn’t know if I would make it this time. I was hoping on finishing a little before 6 so I could do some grocery shopping on my way home. As those thoughts ran through my mind I started working.

—

My eyes stayed focused on the screen as I was busy writing the last words of the letter. A loud sigh left my mouth when I grabbed the paper off the desk. Again, it was a letter. “From Mr. Kim To Mr Ch-“ I immediately stopped my sentence seeing the name on the paper. Mr Cho. It could be another man but I couldn’t let this go so easily. Was there an adress on it?

“Yes!” I jumped out of my chair with the paper in my hand. It would be unprofessional to ran out of the building and go to the adress. Not to forget I could lose my job if I did that. Only two papers to finish. With that mindset I typed the last papers in not more than 20 minutes.

My hands moved faster than normal. Computer off, papers in bag, chair under my desk, jacket on and card out. I didn’t have to tell anyone I was going. The 3 Kim’s couldn’t care more and Tifanny plus the other two girls were not at the office anymore.

The elevator was slower than usual. Or it was slower because I was excited to maybe find my dad again after five years. I didn��t really know the reason behind my excitement. He was the one who left us and he’s the source of our problems. Maybe I thought that if I would tell him how everything is with mom and me he would feel quilty and help us. Or maybe I just wanted answers to questions I had since the day he left us. And I knew that a small part of me wanted his money. I was embarrassed that I had these kind of thoughts but the money I wanted wouldn’t be for me, but for my mom. Every day she woke up she would look closer to death. Not that money was gonna fix the fact that she was ill or not but he could at least pay the hospital bills.

While making my way outside I looked up the adress on my phone. I was hoping badly that it wasn’t going to be a long route. My feet already gave up by seeing how long the walk was. At least one hour it said. Well if i walk my own speed it will be around forty minutes but still way too long for me to walk in heels. Only two decisions I could make. One, go home to change shoes, forget about dinner and just walk there or get a taxi. Option two it is then because I really didn’t have the time to walk.

Lucky for me a taxi just pulled to the side to let someone out of the car. Taking my chance I speed walked towards it. I was about to grab the doors handle but another hand reached for it faster. It was a young man. “Excuse me,” He muttered to me.

“Sorry sir, I was about to get into the taxi actually.” I politely said, trying not to make a scene. He blankly looked me in the eyes,” I never take a taxi so it’s really important. Now if you will excuse me, I have more urgent things to do then chit chat.” A breath came out of my mouth, sounding like a scoff. I didn’t mean to do that but he was being selfish. Like I had nothing better to do then talk to him,” Well I have something urgent to do too.” I replied but he already stepped into the vehicle.

“We can share!” He looked at me unamused. It didn’t look like he would consider sharing so I looked around for another orange car. To my suprise he left the door open and shuffled to the left to make space for me. I made a ninety degrees bow to thank him before stepping in. “Thank you. My name is Cho Miso.” I thanked him once again. The reason why I introduced myself was also a question to me. Maybe I was trying to be social. He looked at me once I introduced myself. His lips parted like he wanted to say something but he closed them again and looked outside.

Feeling a little hit awkward I gave the taxi driver the adress by showing letter.” You work there?” He asked me while typing the adress into the device,” Not really. I have to talk to the CEO of the building.” His eyebrows furrowed. That must’ve sounded really weird. “Ah, I mean I have a meeting. I work in that building,” I explained him while pointing to the building right outside the window. He nodded and asked the man next to me where he was heading. “The NCT building.” Both heads of me and the driver turned to stare at him in shock. Did he work there?

“Now you say it. I saw you on the news today! You are Kim Dongyoung!” Kim Dongyoung? Is he one of the CEO’s? Now that the driver said that, he was wearing a very expensive suit I recognized from the other CEO’s I often see in the building. I could never really understand people who paid so much for a pair of cothing but if you have the money I guess.

I missed the reaction of the man next to me but the driver started driving. He probably just nodded or ignored like how he did with me. My eyes somehow stayed glued to him. He had black hair, by what I could see long legs, beautiful brown eyes, nice lips. By the last thought I shook my head and whipped my head away from him. God what has gotten into me.

All I did for the rest of the ride was look outside the window, too embarrassed to even look at him. He also, was staring outside. Slowly the car came to halt. That wasn’t a long ride at all. Expected since its a car of course. I laughed a little by my own thoughts but quickly stopped when I saw Kim Dongyoung looking at me.

“Here is your stop miss.” I opened the door saying thank you at the same time. About to walk away I stopped myself, I have to pay. The device showed the amount of won I had to pay so I gave the man half of the bills I had in my wallet, hoping it was enough because I had to get a ride home too. “Have a nice meeting!” He flashed me a smile. I happily smiled back and pushed the door closed. Fortunately I saved myself some drama for later.

A loud sigh left my mouth as I looked at the big building infront of me. How do I even get in without getting stopped by the security. Taking a big risk I walked in. I was wearing office clothing so that was a good thing but I didn’t have an card to access. How was I gonna do this?

As aspected a muscular man stopped me,” You can’t go in miss” Quick think of something Miso! Thats right, I had the letter that had to be delivered here,” I have a meeting with Mr Cho? The letter with all of the information didn’t arrive in time so I came here personally to explain it.” I explained trying not to stutter too much and stretched out my arm with the paper in it so he could see. His eyes went over the paper. He nodded, believing my lie. Then he stepped backwards for me to enter, at the same time bowing.

I bowed back automatically and made my way to the elevator. It looked similar to the ones we had in our building. Made from glass and the floor of gold making it look chic and luxury. If this was my dads company he was very rich. While waiting for the elevator to arrive I thought about how he would look. What do I say. Should I introduce myself or hug him? Nah, he definitely know its me when he sees me so no need to introduce.

Ding! The elevator behind me made a sound, signaling it was open. I nearly ran into it, eager to meet my dad if this was his building. The glass elevator was filled with people in suit, golden watches and expensive bags. I felt a little out of place but that wasn’t important right now. Not sure what floor I had to stop at I waited till I reached the top of the building. Most of the time the important people like the CEO were on the top floor.

And I was right. When I reached top floor it looked alsmost exactly like the floor I worked at in the 3 Kim’s building. A receptionist, waiting room, conference rooms and the CEO’s office I could see way back behind everything with the name Mr Cho on a again golden name plate attached in the door. After examining I walked up to the girl behind the reception.

“Good evening, I have something to discuss with Mr Cho?” I couldn’t tell her I had a meeting because she could search it up on her computer and I would get send away. “Im sorry miss but Mr Cho is in a meeting at the moment. Would you like to wait?” Oh a meeting? Meeting always take a long time but if I had the luck that it was indeed my dad I was gonna meet then it wouldn’t hurt for me to wait a little while. “Yes I will wait, thank you.” With that I walked up to the seats where you were supposed to wait.

—

I’ve been here, waiting, for almost thirty minutes now and I was losing my patient. I was even so close to losing it that I wanted to walk into that conference room and yell at him for being so slow. Of course I couldn’t do that so my only option was waiting.

Tired of sitting in a chair for the whole time, I got up to get something to drink. When I arrived here I saw a water tap almost next to the CEO’s office.

Filling my cup, I looked around once again. The office walls of Mr Cho were from glass making it easy for me to take a glance of it. There wasn’t much interesting though. His desk was placed by the wall on the left. Infront of the desk a couple couches with a coffee table in the middle. Just like regular CEO offices that I’ve seen in my life.

But something catched my eye. There were three framed pictures on his desk, facing the couches. I couldn’t see them clearly so I walked a couple steps closer to the office.

The cup almost fell out of my hand. It was my dad on the pictures but not only him. Next to him there was a woman, around my moms age maybe younger and two kids, one boy and one girl who looked atleast five years younger than me. This was his new family. Otherwise he wouldn’t have three pictures with them on his desk.

I couldn’t accept the fact that he moved on from his first family. Harshly I threw the cup of water into the garbage can nearby me and I left the building with my hands clenced into a fist. Tears threatened to fall but he wasn’t worth it. He was living a perfect life with a perfect new family and money enough to take care of thousands people like my mom and me. He was so fucking selfish!

I took a taxi back to my house. The whole ride I looked outside the window with a furious expression. Probably making the driver uncomfortable because he turned up the radio so it wouldn’t be all silence. Arriving at the house I gave him the rest of the money I had in my wallet and he drove off after.

Grabbing my keys to enter the house my phone rang. The number on the screen didn’t ring any bell but I still anwered thinking that it maybe was someone from work who needed me.“Hello?” I asked into the phone, waiting for an answer on the other side.

“I heard you’ve been looking for me.”

<- Previous | Next ->

107 notes · View notes

zombieratt · 4 years

Text

Alright so forewarning this is LONG as FUCK specifically because i came up with this idea in early high school and was just today POSESSEd By the Spirit Of Musical Theatre to put it to paper— er Tumblr.

So without further ado:

DEAR EVAN HANSEN BUT EVAN ISNT A TERRIBLE PERSON AND CONNOR LIVES.

the beginning is the same, canon diverges just after waving through a window.

*this ended up getting written is script format? i also just sorta ignore alana’s whole exsistance bc in this version of the play she’s unnecessary*

In the moments before he talks to Connor evan decides to omit Zoe from his letter, having resolved himself to move on from her. (instead of being a hella creep.)

Connor: “dear Evan Hansen,” what are you writing letters to yourself? *he laughs*

Evan: its, uh, its for my therapist. its just a stupid little assignment that she says is supposed to help me process my feelings or— uh or something

Connor: hm. here. * hands Evan the letter*

Connor: your cast. no one’s signed it.

Evan: uh no. no one has.

Connor: gotta sharpie?

Evan: huh?

Connor: gotta sharpie? im gonna sign it.

Evan: *handing the sharpie to Connor* w- whuh uh why?

Connor: *shrugs* feels right.

Evan: i wish i could do that

Connor: what?

Evan: UH, IMEAN—

Connor: no wait- dude.

Evan: i mean uh, i meant that i wish i could just be, y’know impulsive like that.

Connor: Why Cant you be?

Evan: i uh, my heads pretty messed up, and stuff like that just, makes it worse i guess.

Connor: well theres some thing we have in common— were both fucked up in the head.

*the bell rings*

Evan: oh shoot! i missed the bus—

Connor: i’ll give you a ride.

Evan: are you sure i mean i can walk its not far-

Connor: all the more reason, i probably have to pass it on my way home anyway, cmon.

——

they meet Zoe in the parking lot

Zoe: I have Late practice today

Connor: whatever, gotta passenger.

Zoe: who the fuck would be crazy enough to trust your ability to drive?

Evan *being Brave*: Me Apparently?

Zoe: Uh, Evan Right?

Evan: yeah, uh, yeah.

Zoe *holding her hand out to be shaken*: i’m Zoe, we’ve met though right?

Evan wipes his hand on his shirt and shakes it: yeah, uh, nice to formally meet you, Zoe.

Zoe: i’m off, don’t kill him stoner.

Connor: i wont Princess

Evan breathing heavy: that was,, an eventful ten minutes.

Connor: oh fuck— you cool? or—

Evan: Panic Attack.

Connor: Right, uh

Connor: can you get in the car?

Evan: yeah

*car nonsense*

Connor: Can i start driving or do you want me to wait

Evan: Distractions are good,, Can Uh, Can you Talk about Stuff?

Connor: What stuff!??

Evan: any Stuff!

Connor: Is Zoe okay??

Evan: Sure?!

Connor: Uhh we don’t get along as well as we used to?

we were really close as kids, shes a huge asshole now but *fully venting now*

i kind of miss it you know? having someone to talk to and care about— and i still care about her— but its scary and i always fuck it up! not to mention the fact that our parents hate me— make her see me as some alien and not just a fucked up kid who wants to talk and — (more ranting that i dont feel like writing, but its a whole monologue bro)

Evan: Connor

Connor snaps his mouf shut: yeah

Evan: thanks

Connor: oh that, uh actually helped?

Evan: yeah focusing on your voice and whats real and stuff— it makes a difference.

Neither of them noticed that Connor was just sort of Driving. they end up at the park where in canon Connor commits Sewer-slide.

Evan: i didn’t know there was a park here.

Connor: huh, oh, yeah i guess i just sorta auto piloted, i come here to think.

Evan: About stuff?

Connor: Yeah, Stuff.

*the convo lulls*

Connor: do you have a laptop?

Evan: no, i uh, i left it at home? why?

Connor: give me a second

Connor walks to the car and grabs his back pack out of the back seat

Evan watches Quizzically from the swing-set

Connor pulls out a Sketch Pad and Pen, flipping to a clean page.

Connor: So tell me how to write one of those letters of yours.

Evan: uh, well you start like any other letter- just addressing it to yourself

Connor writing: Dear Connor Murphy,

Evan: and uh, my first one was supposed to be about my ideal summer vacation? since i started in middle school- but you don’t have to—

Connor: thats perfect.

Connor starts to sing for forever,

eventually Evan joins in there is a minor gay moment where they’re holding hands face to face.

the song ends with Connor hugging Evan.

Evan: its- its pretty late.

Connor obviously crying: just— just a couple more minutes.

Evan lets go and grabs Connors sketch book of the ground, closing it and handing it off to him: then how about this, labor day weekend- we actually go.

Connor: what are you talking about?

Evan: being spontaneous?

Connor: o-okay.

and it cuts to black.

theres a small montage here, as the set changes to Connor and Evans bedrooms

sincerely, me is a lament in this context, Connor and Evan are duetting from their respective rooms, writing to themselves.

(the lyrics are completely different and i will not be writing them here because thats too much fucking effort.

but they’re duetting from their bedrooms about making a connection to another person, feeling seen, for the first time. what it felt like and how they really want to keep it up but are afraid of making a mistake and ruining it.

its got some themes of waving thru a window, and a little bit of for forever, but its still largely the same notes just in a different key.)

after wards, Zoe knocks on Connors door to tell him dinner is ready to find him peacefully asleep.

requiem is the same, Zoe sees Connor as Dead to Her instead of actually dead, so some of the wording changes, so and so about how a monster doesn’t deserve peaceful rest etcetera.

school day happens, Connor doesn’t die, but the hot goss is that everyone saw Connor and Evan go home together after school, jared makes a shitty homophobic joke to Evan and Evan kind of tells him off about it. they argue and it culminates in Evan saying “well god forbid I’m friends with someone who isn’t YOU!” or smth like tht and it hits jared right the fuck at home man.

Connor says from the side lines: damn that was pretty hard core dude.

Evan: you have, no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that.

Connor honest to god l a u g h s, theres a number of people who hear it and lose their shit, Zoe being one of them: i have a pretty good idea, wanna get some lunch?

Evan: yeah, sure.

this general routine continues until labor day weekend, when they plan to go on their little escape. theres a short scene of Connor leaving the house with his keys and a backpack.

Connors mom confronts Zoe about his oddly upbeat attitude and hows he’s seemed differently lately Zoe Shrugs but decides to investigate his room.

she finds the letters. the first one is for forever, the theme plays as she reads it frantically, and is signed “Sincerely me (connor murphy)” so she knows its him, i f i could tell her begins but its a real duet between Connor and Zoe and at the end she resolves to try harder to connect to him.

Evan sings disappear to Connor after breaking into a formerly public park, in this context its him confessing that he broke his arm attempting su!c!de. Connor records it, for personal reference.

jared hacks Connors phone and steals the video, posting it to yt, in an effort to ruin their friendship.

Evan and Connor get in a little fight about it, and in the meantime Evan is called to the school to give an assembly because hes a phenomenal speaker and Disappear got like 1000000 views over night.

Zoe and Connor bond a little bit in a short scene before the assembly

Zoe: wheres Evan what happened?

Connor: Kleinman Did!

Zoe: what?

Connor: Why Do you care?

Zoe: because! you look happy around him!

Connor: i, i do?

Zoe: yeah? he could tell the worst joke ever written and you’d crack up. i haven’t heard you laugh like that in years Connor, maybe ever.

Connor: oh.

Zoe: Come back inside?

Connor: y, Yeah.

they all perform You Will Be Found together.

end act 1.

(no more dialogue from here i got tired)

to break in a glove is Connor’s dad trying to reconnect with him, it goes mediocrely, but Connor feels like hes being seen by his dad for the first time in years. its said in metaphors, but this is Connors dads way of saying that if Connor is willing to put in the work, so is he. they hug at the end, things are looking up. some talk of therapy is sprinkiled in the dialogue as they walk of stage together.

Only Us is Evan and Connor saying that they saved each other. its loosely romantic, as its a love song, but they don’t out right say that they’re in love or anything, they don’t know if theyre ready for that. its a promise. the song ends with Connor finally apologizing for pushing Evan over at the beginning of the show.

good for you is sung by jared only, as a power ballad, about losing people you didn’t treasure. its his attempt at an apology, but it ultimately fails, since jared is unable to take responsibility for his own actions. this is where jared and Evan go their separate ways.

Evan’s mom comforts him, as he sings words fail, which is about specifically jared, and how their rocky friendship is ruined and Evan pegs himself as the cause, instead of parents or perfect girl he uses metaphors that apply to best friends— maybe more. and talks about how he didn’t try, he was happy so he ignored that jared was hurting, and how that was really shitty of him. but instead of it being a generally somber song the end is lighter, because Connor is there— waving through his front window.

Evans mom sings So Big/So Small as Evan steps out the front door to embrace Connor and they mime talking about jared, hug and take hands. the house moves off stage in preparation for the finale.

Connor and Evan open the finale saying each others names, and sing it together as the test of the cast (minus jared) joins in, Evans mom taking his hand and Zoe Taking Connors, Evans mom the Murphys and Zoe break off to the back where Evan and Connor finish the final “all i see is sky for forever” while looking into each others eyes, and finish the musical by embracing (maybe kissing if thats ur jam).

#dear evan hansen #deh #connor murphy #evan hansen #zoe murphy #musicals #broadway #deh rewrite i guess?#this is more like the outline of a fic i’ll never write #kd.txt #i was posessed to write this #tree bros

24 notes · View notes

honestlytim · 3 years

Text

I'm resisting this. Writing my experience of the past day. Resisting the commitment to doing so each day. 'Its pointless' I hear, even though I know its not. 'There is no reason to do this,' even though I know perfectly the benefits and what changes this would bring. Namely that I begin to recall what occurs in my life. So often I run away into the present moment to avoid taking responsibility for this life. In order to not have to face the facts I stay present with the inconceivable present. This makes me forgetful and ignorant to the world around me. Blind even to my own experience. This technique of noting, nightly recapitulation of the day's event, daily of the night's dreams, morning and evening prayer of intention gratitude praise and compassion for the suffering of others, all this would lead to a more conscious and authentically expressed life. Is this spirituality? Who knows.

So this morning I woke up and checked on Faith. We had gone to see Moonrise Kingdom the night before in Amherst. After we took a walk around town we returned and retired to separate bedrooms. We talked long about the change in attitude that occured in me and what caused it. I no longer felt I could trust her. It had been so long that I had given the benefit of the doubt. After coming back from new york a couple days earlier, after our plans to see the show in turner falls had fallen through, my back had taken its last straw. I no longer could wait for her invitation, nor trust that it would be fulfilled if ever it came. I was fed up and finished playing into the regular pace of being happy playful and horny. She wasn't respecting my time and attention. I couldn't play the part anymore and I fell into my shadow. The bitter mute, callously judging the world from within. The self possessed and perpetual victim. Closing my heart and looking away from those I love most deeply in the world. I felt hurt and was protecting myself.

This is the truth and it isn't the truth. Its not a lie but fails to describe what was actually occuring. I'm throwing a pity party for the wounded parts of myself and I haven't even started. So I got out the oats and started preparing breakfast. Faith joined me and we got to talking out in the gazebo as we ate. Long after we finished we continued to chat. First we spoke of last night's dreams. Then about Sabien. About Faith and how they are similar. Why that could be good or bad depending on how you look at it. About how when you commit to being someone's partner you really got to follow through. Then we started talking about our past together. What went wrong and how I felt hurt. I saw that she wants a partner who is actively social and engages charismatically with others. That she didn't want me to change who I was in order for us to work. That having fun was important to her. I fell short and she didn't want to be controlling. She couldn't keep the illusion going and found some greener grass. I thanked her for the transformation that she's helped catalyse in me and after getting the last few things together she drove away. A sad and fruitful time. It left me grievous yet hopeful for the future.

I made some lunch and did some laundry and then got on the phone with Rosie. A video call in the gazebo again. We talked fairly briefly, I realize I was being a bit passive aggressive in reflecting the behaviors that had made me disillusioned with her, yet not speaking my mind forthwithly. I was preventing her from feeling guilty by not putting plainly why I was rather upset with her. I had driven out all the way to bovina and we had hardly spent a moment together. I felt dejected and underappreciated. She said some things after doing the digging to find that out. That she wasn't in this to be co-dependent with someone. That she wasn't going to accept having to be hypervigilant and over attentive to my state in order to constantly keeping me comfortable. That she wasn't in it to go through emotional labor just for me to express myself. That I need to be able to speak my needs and wants and what isn't working for me. I need to be able to say that I want a partner that prioritizes me. We concluded by stating where we stand, which isn't any where in particular. We aren't in a relationship, even a poly amorous one, we definitely aren't partners, friends isn't quite right. With us going separate directions we aren't really a thing one way or another. There is possibility after the roadtrip for something to take shape, but until then we will just be keeping eachother in the loop. I recall her saying she wants a partner to sleep in the same bed with each night, to wake up together and to move throughout the world together. To care for a shared community, to depend on each other and keep each other accountable to the goals and growth, to practice and prayer. I don't know if I can be that, or would be satisfied im trying to be that.

Next I went to play guitar and Trisha came in from the garden saying she was gunna walk back to her and Roman's apartment. I said I'd give her a ride and we could hang out afterward. We chatted for a bit and got stoned. I played the guitar and she was being a bit over baring taking care of my needs. Asking if I needed anything, wanted water or beverages. I felt her stress and anxiety. She began cleaning things up. Roman came back and we watched some TV. It was nice being with him even though we didn't talk much. I felt sad seeing them feed into each other's habits. They seemed stuck and unwilling to get out. I no longer felt the need to deal with it but simply wished for their circumstances to improve. In sorrow I left and came back to my own bed to turn in for the last night in a while to be spent at Pine st.

1 note · View note

taexual · 5 years

Text

HOLIC - 45 | jb x reader

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: fluffy start with some angst for dessert

words: 4.6k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

prev / next

“I now it’s Sunday and it’s a sad day for everyone everywhere but I also know you don’t have to work on Monday, so there’s no reason for you to sulk,” Jaebum insisted, knocking on the door of your bedroom the next day, “I don’t know what to do to get you out of your room, so I’ve ordered pizza. A few pizzas, actually. Too many to eat on my own, so, please come out so I wouldn’t have to waste food.”

You’d been holed up inside the entire day – and this certainly wasn’t the first time Jaebum tried to get you to come out, God bless him – politely refusing every offer he’d made through the closed door of your room, but you knew you weren’t being fair. You knew you had to go out and explain what was going on with you, eventually. Hiding was just temporary and, honestly, childish.

So, after another tirade of knocking from a very determined Jaebum, you walked out of your room, obviously surprising him as he jumped back as soon as the door opened.

“Shit, I didn’t think that’d work,” he gasped, smiling in spite of himself. It’d only been a day since he’s last seen you and already he was displaying a poor impulse control around you.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Can’t let that food go to waste.”

“Right, well, come on,” he took your hand – even though he only considered gentle coaxing to get you to come to the kitchen, now that he saw you, he was afraid you’d sneak back into your bedroom if he didn’t physically pull you out of it the next second – and dragged you towards the empty living room area. “I don’t know what happened but—”

“Jaebum—”

“No, don’t,” he stopped you. “I get it. Sharing our problems with each other is something we’ve been doing since we moved in together, even though it wasn’t always strictly voluntary. But sometimes, it takes time to deal with certain things, so I’m not going to push you to tell me what’s bothering you if you’re not done processing it yourself.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I am done. I’m done with... with everything, really. These photography events? I’m not going to do them. I won’t—”

“Oh. Are you sure that’s the right choice?”

You sighed. “Yeah. I am.”

“Is that why you were—”

“No, I was trying to fade into oblivion because of how long it took me to get here. Because of how long it took me to make the right choice,” you swallowed. “Listen, I ran into Jackson last night and I have to tell you something. I—”

The doorbell rang, cutting you off at the very peak of your courage. You could almost physically feel the levels of your bravery recede as soon as Jaebum asked you to wait for “just a moment” and went to greet the delivery boy with your pizzas. You didn’t feel that hungry all of a sudden.

“Hey, here’s an idea,” Jaebum called out after the delivery boy left. The two cardboard boxes of pizza in his hands limited his ability to maneuver so you went over to help him lock the door. “How about we don’t talk about any of the philosophical right choices anymore, hmm? I’m afraid I’m losing you to, like, Kant. Or Freud. Or—”

You laughed at this, following him to the kitchen and picking up some plates from the cupboards while he unboxed the pizzas.

“No, I’m far from that level of thought,” you replied and then turned around to face him. “But okay. That’s fair. I won’t do that anymore.”

“Oh, don’t think it’s because I don’t want you to talk to me—”

“No, I understand. I’m not giving you any answers, anyway. You’re probably sick of me.”

“Only a little,” he teased and then laughed at your grimace. “You should go find a movie we can watch later. I’ll try to figure out why they didn’t include any of the sauces I’ve ordered.”

You raised your eyebrows, leaning closer to check the boxes he’d opened. “There are no sauces?”

“No, they’re here,” he said, suddenly locating the three small containers of sauce, all stuffed into the corner of one pizza box. “It’s all good. Go. Oh—what was it that you wanted to tell me?”

You had already managed to take three steps in the direction of your room when you stopped, turning around. “Hmm?”

“About Jackson?” Jaebum clarified, ripping the cover of one of the cardboard boxes to make it easier to transport it to his room. “You were saying something and then the doorbell—”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” you felt your skin shiver. Your courage to confess the truth about everything left with the pizza delivery boy. “I—well, it’s nothing important, really. I just saw him the other day at, uh, one of the exhibitions I’ve gone to, so, that was a surprise.”

“Oh, well, I’ve already told you he’s been off doing work for his family,” he said. “Did you get to talk to him? You should have given him a kick in the ass for me, by the way – I’ve been trying to reach him non-stop the whole morning today and he hasn’t even bothered to read my texts.”

“No, I—” you started to say and then, for the briefest of moments—that you truly despised yourself for later—you felt relieved to hear him say that. The last time you saw Jackson, he wasn’t exactly accommodating to your wish to stall a bit more before you finally came clean to Jaebum. “I-I haven’t talked to him much. Just said hi, had a quick chat and that’s all.”

“Hm,” Jaebum only nodded, now more preoccupied with the logistics of the boxes he had to carry to his room. “He said he’s coming back tomorrow afternoon so I guess I’ll ambush him then.”

You chuckled at this – more out of politeness than anything else – and returned to your room to pick your laptop up. As always, your designated spot for watching movies and eating junk food was his bedroom, not yours, so you headed over there, all while attempting to come to terms with the fact that, by tomorrow afternoon, Jaebum had to learn about the details of your contract with Jiho’s gallery. It felt like Jackson was purposefully giving you this much time to gather all the necessary courage.

Jaebum joined you in the room another few moments later, which didn’t give you nearly enough time to set your mind straight, but, then again, he could have stayed back in the kitchen for the entire night and that still wouldn’t have been enough time for you to get yourself together.

“I had this frustrating dream last night,” Jaebum confessed as he plopped down on his bed. You leaned over to help him with the elaborate arrangement of the pizza, the sauces, the laptop, and his own body – his large bed felt so much smaller now. “I was stuck in some sort of a box – honestly, it felt like a casket to me – that kept moving and I—”

“Like an elevator?” you asked.

“No—well, yeah, I guess kind of like an elevator,” he said and then added, “of nightmares. Anyway, it kept moving in this spinning motion and every time the door opened, the box was upside down and above a huge precipice. So, if I wanted to get out of it, I had to very literally jump to my death. But if I stayed inside, I just wouldn’t stop spiraling until I eventually passed out from vertigo or something.”

“Huh,” you reached for a slice of pizza. “Maybe that’s a metaphor for what’s going on in your life right now? Like, you’re taking this big risk by quitting your secure job at the radio station to focus on singing instead. That is kind of like taking a leap out of a haphazard elevator.”

Jaebum scoffed. “So, my life was a haphazard elevator and now I’m about to die?”

“No, I didn’t mean that. And who’s to say you’d have died if you’d jumped out of that elevator?”

“Well, I don’t think there are many people who have survived a twenty-meter drop straight down a precipice,” he dead-panned, picking a slice of pizza up.

“I’m just saying,” you mumbled with your mouth full of food and then stopped to finish chewing. “It’s a dream. Anything can happen in dreams.”

Dipping his slice into the sauce, he considered this and then sighed. “Maybe it is a metaphor. About fear.”

“That’s what I said.”

“No, but I don’t mean anything specific. Just fear in general.”

You paused again – the chewing was suddenly part of the conversation – before asking, “what are you afraid of?”

“I’m… Well, lots of things,” he said and then proceeded to count on his fingers, “death. Deep water. Those vintage porcelain—”

That sounded too much like he was purposefully avoiding answering your question and you shook your head, wiping the corners of your mouth with your fingers.

“Okay, I get that,” you stopped him. “I meant right now. Are you doing anything you’re afraid of? Aside from starting a whole new period of your life, I mean.”

Jaebum hesitated – obviously, the fear he was feeling right now wasn’t caused by any of the things he’d just mentioned – but covered it up by stuffing the remaining slice of pizza into his mouth. He took his sweet time chewing it.

“Y-yeah, but I’m not afraid of that new period,” he said finally, wiping the grease from his fingers onto his pants. You gave him a disapproving look – which he promptly ignored – as he tried to explain, “I’m just nervous about it, I guess. Excited, too. But, generally, I’m not afraid of that. There are just… these little things I’m afraid of.”

“Such as..?” you encouraged.

“I’m working on this song,” Jaebum said, avoiding your eyes as he reached for another slice.

You felt your skin break out in goosebumps – your body reacted before your mind could – and it took you a second to understand why. Then, Jackson mentioning that Jaebum had been writing a song about you returned to your memory with an overwhelming flash. Although you didn’t know if Jaebum was talking about the same song right now, suddenly you forgot how to chew and swallowed the piece of pizza you’d bitten off whole.

You coughed, clearing your throat before you asked, “w-what kind of song?”

“It’s—it’s something I’ve been writing for a while,” he replied, completely forgetting the sauce as he took a bite of his pizza. At this point, his mind was already so far from this room that the food seemed tasteless to him anyway.

“And you’re afraid of it?” you asked since, obviously, it was hard for him to keep talking on his own.

“I… yeah,” he said. “Sort of. That sounds stupid, I get it, but—”

“It doesn’t,” you disagreed. “You’re creating something. It’s normal to be worried about it.”

“No, but I can live with worries,” he said, groaning as he put his half-eaten slice of pizza on an empty plate he’d brought. “I can’t explain what I mean. And—actually—maybe that’s exactly where the problem – or, well, the fear – lies in. I’m just… I’m scared I won’t be able to put it all into words and it won’t come out right. The song, I mean. And, sometimes, I’m scared that the song won’t come out at all. O-or, if it will, it won’t do very well.”

You squinted your eyes as you listened to him speak, trying to figure out if “the song” was a metaphor for something much deeper of if this particular song really meant so much to him. It could have also been both, of course.

“Well,” you said slowly, “do you want the song to come out?”

“I do. Of course, I do.”

“Then it will,” you said.

“Right. But what if it doesn’t do well?” he repeated himself.

“That’s not possible,” you declared. “You hate abstractions, so the song is obviously going to be about something that people can relate to with ease. People usually like things they don’t have to try hard to understand. They enjoy songs that hit close to home.”

“It’s… it’s a song about this sort of one-in-a-lifetime experience, though,” Jaebum admitted. “I’m not sure if there are many people that will actually be able to relate to it.”

“Well, even if they can’t relate, that doesn’t mean they won’t enjoy it,” you said, your hands freezing even though there was a fire blazing inside of you. “What is the song about?”

“Well… it’s a personal song,” Jaebum said. The less specific he was, the more inclined you were to believe that this was the same song Jackson had mentioned and, consequently, the less oxygen there seemed to be in the room. You couldn’t stop thinking about the possible lyrics of the song.

“Okay,” you said, hoping your voice wasn’t shaking too obviously. “How much have you written? Can I hear it?”

Jaebum looked down, the abundance of thoughts in his mind – what a ridiculous contrast to the one, lonely thought that kept rotating around your mind like a loose tumbleweed in the wild wild west – making it difficult for him to find an answer to your question. He hadn’t lied to you when he said he was worried about the song not doing well – that part was true. And he also worried about it being misunderstood, that was true as well. But the thing that he was the most afraid of was the thing he couldn’t tell you about because it was hidden inside of said song.

He’d told you he focused on the most prominent emotion he was feeling when he wrote song lyrics and, this time, he tried to put all of his fear into this song. These fears – or, rather, just this one fear, in particular – had been bothering him for quite a while now: first, he had been afraid to get close to you, but after he had, he was suddenly afraid to fall in love with you. And now that he had, he was afraid to lose you.

His biggest fear was always you, and, simultaneously, it was also the absence of you. It would have surprised exactly no one to know that the song about the leading emotion he was feeling, was also a song about you.

“That’s another thing I’m afraid of,” Jaebum said after what felt like forever but was, really, no more than a minute. It was still not enough time for him to find a proper way to express himself – which was something that you could relate to.

“What? Me, hearing it?” you asked, confused.

He exhaled, nodding. “Yeah.”

“You shouldn’t be,” you said in a quiet voice, hating the uncertainty behind your words. “I love everything that you do. But I get it. You can play it to me when you’re ready.”

Even though Jaebum didn’t respond with anything – just looked at you – his eyes burned with all that he wanted you to know and, deep down, you felt like you understood him perfectly. Frankly, you were afraid of all the same things and, sometimes, finding the right words – however obvious they were – to express yourself and to cause that fear to dissipate, didn’t come easy. You knew that better than anyone as you procrastinated on the confession of truth – yet again – out of fear of disrupting the Sunday night bliss.

Finally, long after the pizza was finished and the movie – and the sequel that you couldn’t stop yourselves from watching – was completed, you and Jaebum started to stretch. Laying in one spot and barely breathing could have easily mummified a person. Jaebum yawned, stretching his hands above his head, and then turned to you.

“Can I tell you something?” he said, his eyes red and hazy from the intense staring at the computer screen.

“Of course,” you replied, his yawn contagious. “Anything.”

He sat up before continuing, the bones somewhere in his spine cracking uncomfortably.

“I thought…” he started to say and felt himself run into a brick wall inside of his mind. He’d tried to find the right way to say this all throughout the night – not wanting to scare you but also not wanting to seem like a pathetic loser, either – but actually opening his mouth to speak still wielded no good results. “No, you know what? Nevermind. It’s dumb.”

The longer he hesitated before speaking, the more your curiosity was taking the best of you.

“Hey, come on,” you encouraged. “Tell me.”

“No, it’s stupid, really, I just—”

“You got me all excited now! Tell me,” you insisted.

Figuring that this might happen, Jaebum sighed in defeat. “Fine. I… I thought you might have done something.”

Although you were not at all sure what he was hinting at, your heart still seemed to drop right into the pit of anxiety brewing at the bottom of your stomach.

“What?” you asked. “What do you mean? What have I done?”

He was shaking his head as soon as you started to speak, realizing now that he should have started with something else. Point-blank accusations rarely ever ended well and he felt like the one he had thrown at you was beyond stupid. Yet, for some reason, he still wanted to talk to you about this.

“No, it’s just—the way you’ve been acting, you know?” he tried to say, smiling for more effect. Although, the only effect his smile had was a great increase in your levels of anxiety. “Like, I know I said I don’t want you to philosophize about anything anymore but… all of this secrecy and these half-answers you’ve been giving me whenever I asked you about how your exhibition was going… I just thought you dropped it or something and were too afraid to tell me.”

You weren’t expecting him not to notice your behavior at all – he was far too perceptive for that – but, somehow, you’d naively hoped he wouldn’t bring it up.

“The exhibition?” you clarified, caught off guard. “N-no, I haven’t dropped it. That’s still… well, I hope it’s still happening.”

“Okay. I mean, don’t get offended or anything, I’m just being paranoid,” he said and then, with a nonchalant chuckle, added, “but I really thought you either dropped the exhibition, or… or you actually did have to sleep with someone to get it.”

Finally, you looked up from the hole that you’ve dug for yourself by omitting the truth from him, and realized how deep it was. You could barely see the surface anymore.

“W-where did you even—” you tried to ask but Jaebum jumped in to explain himself.

“It’s because of that conversation we had the other day,” he said. “When you asked me how far I was willing to go in order to—”

Suddenly panicking because, apparently, you’d let Jaebum come to some shocking conclusions—that weren’t all that far from the truth—without meaning to, you waved your hands in dismissal and tried to cut in.

“Oh, no, I was just—”

“Yeah, I told you it was stupid,” he spoke over you, his warm gaze trying to calm you down, albeit unsuccessfully. The raw ends of your nerves were flickering with anxious electricity. “I was just worried about you. I want to know what’s going on. You’ve been with me every step of the way, you know the names of everyone at my agency, basically. I want to be the same for you. But, forget it, I’m just being dumb.”

He stopped talking and, although no more than five seconds could have passed before you opened your mouth to speak, it felt like you could have counted to a million and back in the time that neither of you spoke. The silence was so thick with all the things you haven’t told him – and were, evidently, about to spill – that you could barely breathe, let alone find a way to soften the blow you were about to strike Jaebum with.

You started, your throat hurting with every word, “you’re not being dumb. There’s…. There actually is something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you a while ago.”

The electricity from your body seemed to transfer onto his as Jaebum’s face paled all of a sudden. “Oh, wow.”

“What?”

He grasped his chest over his shirt. “I think I’m having a heart attack.”

“What?” you gasped, frowning. “W-why?”

“Carry on!” he encouraged abruptly. “You can’t just start a sentence like that a-and with this… this expression on your face. You look like you’re about to tell me you’ve found a basement with a hundred rotting bodies inside of it and you’ve been trying to find a way to bring them all back to life.”

“No, it’s not that,” you shook your head, far too nervous to acknowledge how ludicrous that statement sounded or even joke about how he obviously thought you were cosplaying as Frankenstein on the side. “It’s—it’s nothing serious, really. I’m blowing this way out of proportion and I shouldn’t have waited so long to tell you, I just—”

“Out with it, please,” he pleaded. “My poor heart.”

You were absolutely driving him out of his mind – and body, by the looks of it; he looked like he was ready to astral project into three different dimensions at the same time – but you simply could not find the right words. In fact, you didn’t think such words even existed anymore – it was far too late to let Jaebum know about Jiho slowly and convince him that it wasn’t a big deal.

“Right, right, sorry,” you said and then cleared your throat. “Well, erm, see, the person who ended up contacting me—the, uh, the agent from the gallery we’ve been to? It’s… it’s actually someone I know.”

“Someone you know?” Jaebum frowned. He’d been expecting a huge revelation that was going to blow his mind and he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with what you’ve told him. His nerves wouldn’t let you explain, however, as he burst into a tirade of confused questions, “what, like a professor from college or something? Are you saying this is some sort of photographer-version of insider trading? Do you think they only invited you to meet with them because they know you? Because, let me tell you right now, that’s not—”

“No, Jaebum,” you stopped him. “It’s Jiho.”

One impossibly loud heart beat later, Jaebum blinked his eyes and shut his mouth. “Hmm?”

“That agent,” you clarified, your voice fading. “T-the person responsible for my exhibition. It’s Jiho. I-I’ve been working with him.”

He stared at you and you swore you’ve never been more scared of anything in your life like you were scared—petrified, really—of the utterly blank look in his eyes. You usually struggled with reading his emotions but, at the very least, you knew there were emotions to look for. Right now you couldn’t find a single one.

“I didn’t tell you sooner because I was afraid of your reaction,” you chose to add after a yet another ridiculously long pause.

“Why?” Jaebum asked. There was a change to his voice and the room got unbearably chilly. “What did you think I was going to do?”

“I don’t know. I know you don’t like him and I just—I know it’s nothing, I was just nervous,” words spilled out of your mouth as you focused on how vulnerable his empty eyes made you feel. You had no guesses about what he was going to do or say next. “A-and I didn’t want to ruin your mood when everything with your career seemed to be going so well.”

“W-why would that ruin my mood?” he shrugged his shoulders. The nonchalant act he was putting on was so incredibly transparent, you could almost taste the bitterness on his tongue.

“Well, you know,” you said, all of the excuses you’ve come up with had escaped you. “It’s, uh… I had to go to these events with him. For publicity. Like I’ve told you.”

“Ah,” Jaebum nodded, slowly sitting up and taking his feet off the bed. “So, you’ve been fake-dating Jiho is what you’re saying.”

You’ve been blessed with never having to experience standing at gunpoint before. But sitting right here and telling Jaebum all that you should have told him days ago, felt an awful lot like talking in front of a loaded sniper. And now that he’d gotten up, you thought you could see his finger approach the trigger.

“I—” you started to say but Jaebum interrupted.

“And you didn’t tell me because you were afraid of my reaction,” he repeated, heading for the door.

You lowered your head as a half-nod. “Y-yes, I didn’t want—w-where are you going?”

He didn’t stop crossing the hallway as he called out in an eerily calm tone, “just to get a drink.”

“A drink? We have—Jaebum?” you leaped off the bed when he still didn’t stop and ran after him, making sure to keep a respectable amount of distance between you two. Not because he scared you when he was like this but because you felt like he didn’t want you that close right now. “Jaebum, please.”

His voice was like static when he spoke – no signs of what he was feeling whatsoever.

“Please what?” he said. “I’m getting water.”

He really was and, even though you could still remember watching him reach for the glasses on the top shelf of the cabinet the very first time you’ve had breakfast together, now you realized you’ve never seen the strained muscles of his back look so menacing.

“No, but I can see the way your muscles are clenched. You look like you want to punch… something,” you pointed out quietly.

“I do not,” he replied with his back turned to you as he turned the tap on, not bothering to switch it to cold water, and poured some into his glass. He took a sip but it looked like he couldn’t taste anything.

“Jaebum—”

“So, these events, then,” Jaebum turned around, putting the glass down so vehemently, you thought it was going to crack. “How many of them have you gone on with him as your date?”

Your teeth grazed against your tongue as you swallowed.

“He wasn’t my—n-not many, just a few, really,” you said, trying desperately to find something else to add to make this sound less awful. “But I’m not doing them anymore. I told him so. I gave him an ultimatum.”

“And Jackson,” Jaebum concluded, remembering what you’ve mentioned earlier. “You ran into him while you were out with Jiho, yeah?”

“I-I—”

He was already walking past you before you could reply, dropping his coldest sentence yet, “I have to go.”

You wanted to grab his hand and stop him but, sensing your intentions, he crossed his arms before he quickened his pace towards his coat, hanging in the hallway.

“Go?” you asked, almost running after him. “Go where? It’s—”

“I have to go,” he repeated sternly, not wasting his time to even glance at you as he tossed his coat over his shoulders, not bothering with the sleeves.

“Jaebum—let me explain, it’s really not a big deal,” you pleaded, the hopeless tone in your voice doing nothing but making him reach for the handle of the door faster. “Jaebum, it’s—Jaebum!”

He slammed the door shut before the last syllable of his name could pass your lips. In the dreadful silence that he left in his wake, you realized that his smell, that had comforted you every day for months that you’ve lived here, and your heart, that had, really, been his all along, had left the apartment with him.

chapter directory

319 notes · View notes

faelune-home · 4 years

Text

Shall We Dance?

(A/N: I told myself I wouldn’t join ffxivwrite cos i don’t write that often, plus being able to do something in one day would be difficult for me...and yet I wrote this just today :’D idk now if i will try any ffxivwrite prompts, and im not submitting this for today cos it doesn’t fit the prompt and wasn’t written for it in the first place, but i’m considering it a bit more

Personal rambling aside; while I as a player stuck with Bard all the way through my msq playthrough until i finished shadowbringers, and didn’t switch to maining dancer till about 5.2, i figured for character timeline’s sake, I wanted to look at when miqo!Fufu might’ve first found the dancer troupe. It feels fitting that they’re based in Limsa at the level to start Stormblood, so this little story shot is set just before the trip to Kugane

No direct story spoilers brought up here, not even for the dancer questline

@ffxiv-writers)

“I’m still not happy about this. They can dress themselves up as ‘privateers’ all they like for whatever loophole, it doesn’t suddenly change the fact that they’re pirates.”

Alphinaud sighed, “As you have said so many times now, sister. And I shall remind you again that they were the only crew available on such short notice, and it affords us a chance to travel under Garlean radar.”

“And yet we still have to wait for them to prepare the vessel. If we weren’t so pressed for time I almost wish we could’ve asked the Admiral to remove her colours from one of her own ships for this-”

“With what hands? Most of her men are now in Gyr Abania aiding the Revolution, and what few remain here would be beholden to the citizenry. I know you’re frustrated with the current terms but at least be reasonable. With any luck we can secure a different ship for coming home at least.” Alisaie shot him a look, eyes narrowed and lips pressed thin, however she didn’t comment further.

The bustle of the market crowds passed them by, paying the siblings no mind as they waited. A flash of red broke through the crowd, and a little pink blur behind as Lyse and Tataru joined the two, boxes in hand.

“We’re all stocked up on supplies for the trip. No word from Carvallain yet?” Lyse asked, placing her own crate stuffed with foods on the ground. Heads shook, and the woman shrugged nonchalantly, saying, “Well, a little while longer to wait isn’t going to hurt. We’re getting a ship either way, and for now, we have good weather at least, and I heard there’s a show going on today.”

“What kind of show?” Alphinaud asked.

“Clearly the kind that can empty a market,” Alisaie observed, and indeed when the group looked around, the formerly swamped stalls were barren, leaving vendors to restock after the rush, the thundering of cobbles having faded further into the city.

“Well, Fufu isn’t back yet, so maybe it’s her little show?” Tataru chuckled, knowing of the Bard’s tendency for sudden musical moments. “You three can go and find her and enjoy the fun. I can take our supplies to the ship and fetch you once we’re ready to set off.”

The group split, with the Lalafellen woman heading for the docks, while the trio went back through the market, keeping an ear out for any activity or music. The closer they got to Bulwark Hall, the buzz grew louder, many a person chattering excitedly. A faint tune drifted over the sound of the crowd from the southern docks.

“It doesn’t quite sound like her kind of music,” Lyse mumbled, cupping her ear to strain over the din.

“We won’t know till we actually check,” Alisaie stated, already beginning to push past a pair of Roegadyn toward the music. The crowd only grew thicker as the music got louder. True to Lyse’s observation, the vibrant guitar and violin was unlike their miqo’te friend’s usual style of lively harp music. A swift schwing of metal against metal cut through the music, bringing out a cheer in the people. With a final push, the Scions broke through the final row to view the spectacle, ignoring the annoyed mutterings from behind them.

A miqo’te dancer spun in steady steps with the music in the centre of the plaza. It wasn’t their own miqo’te friend, yet the fire in her movements caught their attention all the same. The grace in her steps, the power in her swinging arms, chakrams in hand, one could understand the crowd’s zeal at the mesmerising movement.

Yet all too soon after the Scions’ arrival, the music came to a bombastic close and the woman struck her finishing pose, another schwing ringing in the air from her chakrams brushing against one another. The roar of the crowd was deafening, forcing an applauding Lyse to lean closer to her friends and yell, “She was quite good, wasn’t she?”

“Yes, though she isn’t who we were looking for,” Alisaie shouted back. The throng of people had already parted, the excited buzz fading with the people, and with the freed space at the plaza, one other figure stood other than the Scions, her face the picture of awe even with the broad smile she wore.

Alphinaud noticed her first. “There you are.” Fufu’s ears flicked, suddenly looking sheepish.

“Oh, I didn’t even realise the time,” she chuckled nervously, “Sorry, I only meant to check in on some spots here in case people needed my help while we were waiting, but I got a little distracted.”

“I can see why, it was very impressive,” Lyse smiled, patting the miqo’te on the shoulder. Fufu nodded, almost bouncing on the spot as she exclaimed, “She was! I haven’t seen that dance since before coming to Eorzea, but it was still as magical as I remember!”

“Hold on, you’ve seen it before?” Alisaie asked, to which the woman nodded again, her eyes glittering. Alphinaud spoke before her, having spied the baggage the troupe used, “It appears they’re from Thavnair. You’ve said you’re from there yourself, or at least raised there.”

“Yup! They’re Troupe Falsiam, and they generally only perform in Radz-at-Han. At least I haven’t heard of them doing many tours in my lifetime. My tribe lives pretty far from the city and most trade is done with travellers, but sometimes they’d plan special trips for certain goods or just to treat the younger kids, and I always loved watching the Troupe when I went.” Fufu let out a happy sigh, caught up in memories. The group jumped however when another voice chimed in.

“You seem very familiar with our troupe, my dear.” They turned to see a woman walking over to them. If the metal rings hanging at her own hips didn’t betray her as a dancer, the way she moved with elegant poise and grace would have instead. She gave the Scions a polite bow in greeting.

“Forgive the interruption. I’m merely surprised that we already had a familiar fan on these shores. Troupe Falsiam hasn’t visited Aldenard in a long time, as you so rightly said. Ah, but I forget myself; I am Nashmeira, leader and teacher of the troupe. The young dancer here with me is Ranaa, one of my brightest stars currently.” Ear flicking from having heard her name said, Ranaa turned away from the boxes she was helping to pack, still dressed in her dancing outfit, and gave the group a wave.

“She’s very good,” Fufu quickly complimented, eyes wide with glee at the turn of events. Ranaa smiled back, then wandered off down the path, taking a bundle of clothes with her.

“Hmm, good, but ever still learning,” Nashmeira nodded. Alphinaud stepped forward and gave a polite bow of his own, prompting an eye roll from his sister behind him. “Tis a pleasure to meet you. We are the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.”

The woman tilted her head, recognition flashing in her eyes as she responded, “Aye, I’ve heard of your organisation. Though if you don’t mind my saying so, a job such as yours wouldn’t leave much free time. I’m curious then that our show caught your attention.”

“You’d be right. We’re unfortunately caught waiting for our vessel to be ready before we depart for the Far East,” Alisaie answered, then motioned to Fufu with a small smile, “Well, that and we were looking for this one here. She was taken in by your performance before the rest of us.” Nashmeira herself looked closer at the miqo’te, as though appraising her.

“Hmm,” she hummed, “Actually, you have quite the presence…” Then she nodded.

“Might I request a dance of you?” she asked. Surprise crossed all of the Scions, even more so the one addressed. “I’m well aware that you’ve clearly pledged yourself to another organisation, so despite any reverence you would have for our Troupe, your priorities lie elsewhere and I wouldn’t wish to ask you to join us and leave them behind. But I see in you the grace of a dancer and I would call myself a fool if I let you leave here without even trying to unlock that potential.” Nashmeira unhooked her chakrams from her hips and held them out to the miqo’te.

Fufu hesitated at first, a blush spreading across her cheeks, however Lyse spoke up, laughing, “Don’t go pretending you’re shy now, you’ve never let a chance to perform slip past before.” The twins seemed to show their approval as well, with Alisaie watching with an expectant smile and Alphinaud saying, “Tataru hasn’t come to tell us the ship is boarding yet. A quick presentation should be fine.”

Finally bolstered by her eagerly waiting companions, Fufu took the chakrams, testing the weight of them in her hands. They swung gently on her fingers, yet the rhythm made her arms bounce as well. Nashmeira motioned to her musicians, who scrambled to take their instruments out of the bags, and said, “Do not feel as though you have to copy Ranaa’s dance. It would take a lot more training and skill to be able to perform that to its full potential. For now, improvise as you see fit. I wish only to see how you move.”

The first strums of the guitar were matched with hesitant footsteps and stiff arms kept close. The joining of the drums saw her test a swing of the arm, though the weight of the chakram almost threw her halfway across the plaza, only righting herself with a clumsy shuffle. Yet as the music built up, the keeper found her rhythm, getting bolder with her kicks and jumps, and freely waving her arms around her, and where she had started with a mask of nervous concentration, she now laughed with joy.

Joy that was mirrored in the cheers of her friends to the side, the encouragement from a returned and newly dressed Ranaa, and the curious mumblings of a returning crowd, albeit smaller than the one the original performance had garnered. Unaccustomed to dancing to music not of her own playing, Fufu was still in the middle of a spin when the final drum beats landed, ending the song.

“Whoops,” she giggled, stumbling over her own feet when she finally stopped. The gathered crowd clapped politely, evidently pleased at the amount of entertainment on show that day. They dispersed quicker than before, though that afforded the troupe teacher a chance to step forward with her observations.

“As I expected, on many fronts. You do have a dancer’s grace to you, though as evident by one that hasn’t been trained, there’s a heaviness to it all. Some clumsiness as well, though whether that was nerves or again, lack of training... But your energy was spectacular as well, even through the rough of it all. Not just anyone can draw in a crowd the way you did, even with an unrefined style like that. With some work you could be a fantastic performer.”

“I’d like to think you already had a headstart on performing,” Lyse added, the Scions rejoining the centre plaza as well, “all that work you’ve done with the old Bard in the Shroud, I’d say you already had plenty of stage presence without having ever stepped on a stage.”

“That was incredible!” Everyone turned, seeing Tataru at the entrance to the plaza.

“How long have you been there?” Alisaie asked as the smaller woman walked up to them.

“Since I think halfway through all of that. You were amazing!” she praised, making Fufu smile. Alphinaud however looked serious, asking, “I take it the ship is ready then?”

Tataru jumped. “Oh right! Yes that’s why I came here. We have to go now.” A solemn look came across the Scions as they nodded. Fufu herself pouted, ears flat against her head.

“Definitely now?”

“Unfortunately. As nice as this little detour has been, we are still on an important mission. My apologies, friend,” the boy said, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. Yet as she smiled back, albeit still looking crestfallen, Nashmeira spoke up herself.

“Actually, if you were so taken with dancing that you would wish to continue it all the same, I do believe I have a solution that could benefit us all here. Your companions included.” Curious looks were shared among all while one of the musicians, at Nashmeira’s whispered request, went searching in one of the bags.

“You see, the dance of Troupe Falsiam is not like most others in the world. It is suited not just for the stage, but also for the field of combat.” The woman’s smile grew as she saw the mixture of impressed yet curious looks on the younger folks’ faces. “Although I would prefer to teach you myself, in lieu of that, I would offer you this instead as a substitute.” At this, the returned musician held out his hand, a glittering pink stone laying in his palm and a spare pair of chakrams hanging from his fingers.

“A soul stone,” Lyse gasped.

“Aye, one with many past dancers’ experiences etched into it, going back generations. I would like for you to practise without it, but should you have need of the skills in a pinch, or even a desire to dance freely without inhibition, you will have it with you.” Fufu had already grabbed the crystal and the metal rings, smiling widely as she admired it.

“Thank you so much! I’ll practise as much as I can, with and without it!” she gushed, bowing deeply. For that, the woman smiled back warmly.

“I shan’t keep you any longer, since your business is clearly important. You make for the Far East you said?” They nod. “Then I wish you luck in whatever it is you are off to do. And to my new pupil I say that whenever you return, if we yet remain here in Eorzea, I would very much like to see how much you’ve grown while you were away.” Fufu nodded feverishly, mumbling more thanks as she bowed again.

Even as both groups finally went their separate ways and the Scions followed after a now hurried Tataru, the Bard and newly christened Dancer didn’t take her eyes off her new Soul Stone, not until they had boarded the ship and sailed far into the waters, where she had plenty of time to practise with her new skills.

#ffxiv writing #ffxiv fanfic #Alisaie leveilleur #alphinaud leveilleur #lyse hext #tataru taru #keeper of the moon miqo'te #my wol #fufu faelune #dancer #my writing #writing #nashmeira #ranaa mhigo

10 notes · View notes

moonguilt · 5 years

Note

please give me more kl headcanons.😔

OKAY people this got WAY out of hand and i wrote 7 pages of an entire au plotline so uh. sorry everybody but it’s gonna be split into at least a couple different postswe’ll call this CHAPTER 1: (chapter 2 can be found HERE)I roleplay on MMORPGs so you’re gonna have to deal with my self indulgent online roleplaying AU. There will be klance but I have to SET THE STAGE first so bear with me. basically this is just multiplayer online video game roleplaying garbage. on that note, enjoy.

hunk and pidge were the first ones to discover the video game “Voltron.” they dicked around on it just to test out the game controls and perhaps get coding ideas for a game they are trying to create, but they ended up kinda enjoying it. the gameplay has its issues but is overall pretty fluid.

hunk plays a rogue. he has to turn the game volume down sometimes because of the gross gorey noises the game makes when he stabs people. he probably would have rerolled as a different class just to escape the gruesome sound effects, but he really likes being able to enter stealth. he says it makes him feel “safe”

pidge plays a mage. hunk is under the impression that it’s because she wants to play a class with high intelligence points, and pidge doesn’t correct him. but really she just likes the idea of turning her enemies into frogs

shiro is hanging out with matt one day and ends up watching pidge play. he wants to be Hip and Cool so he decides to create a trial account and see if he likes it. turns out, he’s TERRIBLE at the actual gameplay (his computer reflexes are Bad and he keeps dying to basic mechanics on literally every boss fight. matt downloads the game and creates a priest out of pity just to help keep shiro alive while he levels)

“this is demeaning for everyone involved”

“you’re the one who has died seven times now to haxus. literally all you have to do is not stand in the fire. you’re a FULLY ARMORED PALADIN TANK how are you dying so quic—wait a minute. shiro. shiro why are you still wearing your level 1 starting gear.”

however, he finds out that the server they’re playing on has a roleplaying community! he figures he doesnt need swift reflexes to roleplay, so he starts dipping his toe into RP and discovers he really likes it. he enjoys writing stories about his heroic character, and enjoys combining those stories with the stories of other people he meets in the game. it’s like collaborative fantasy fiction writing, and it quickly becomes a passion of his

pidge and matt tease him endlessly for it. hunk is an angel and is very supportive of shiro’s new hobby. he is the only one who will listen to shiro gush about his character. unfortunately when shiro designed the character, he did not have a good grasp on roleplay, so the character is goofy looking and has an overly dramatic backstory involving dragons and a lost royal bloodline. hunk kindly chooses not to comment on it, and instead helps him develop new ideas and plots for his character’s adventures

eventually shiro manages to convince hunk to give RP a try. hunk is very careful and does a lot of research on the Voltron universe lore. he reads all the fanmade wiki pages, roleplaying guides on the game forums, etc., until he feels confident he can create a good character. he does (and eventually goes on to be a popular community figure who hosts huge server events and is friends with literally everyone, but that is several months down the line), and he and shiro begin their roleplaying adventures together

hunk gets Really Into It. fast. like faster than shiro. and he takes it SERIOUSLY; he is a total lore nerd & WILL tell you (in a very gentle, caring tone) if your character’s story/actions do not comply with the game’s established lore

“your character’s outfit is so cool! btw tho, I noticed you mentioned your character was born in the castle of lions—just wanted to let you know, it was actually only rediscovered and unlocked about 10 years ago in the game’s timeline, so it wouldn’t really make work for your character to be born there, since they’re 27 D: but if you want I can help you come up with a different birthplace :)”

keith, lance, and allura had thus far managed to resist the voltron bug. they just aren’t into mmorpg stuff, they insist. single-player games, sure, but open-world multi-player? sounds weird

lance falls first. Hunk hits him with the puppy dog eyes and its all over for him

he creates the most ridiculously beautiful character he can

“i dont care about whether my guy is a freaking dps or not, hunk, i need him to have an ass like a kardashian. WHERE IS THE BUTT SLIDER HUNK. i have a NICE ASS and i want it IMMORTALIZED IN PIXEL FORM”

he does, in fact, end up picking dps. hunk shows him the archer class and he lights up like a christmas tree

“i know you always wanted to bone legolas, so”

“i wanted to BE legolas, not BONE him, HUNK”

“sure lance”

allura falls next. her and lance’s weekly “self-care spa sessions” turn into lance rambling about all the wacky stuff he and hunk and shiro got up to that week, and she eventually cracks under the pressure because she Hates when there’s a new fad and she doesn’t understand it

“and then this guy came up to us and started roleplaying with us in ALL LOWER CASE and shiro and i wanted to d i e but hunk was all ‘nooo he’s just a newbie in need of some pointers’ and then spent the next TWENTY FREAKING MINUTES giving this guy tips and tricks about grammar and punctuation–”

within 2 days she has gotten almost halfway through leveling her new druid healer because she is Determined damn it

coran, allura’s uncle, also begins playing shortly thereafter. allura never says why exactly, but it does seem to be a direct result of her influence somehow. he plays a gunslinger class because he’s “always wanted to be a ‘rooting & tooting cowboy,’ as you call it!”

for whatever reason, he is Very Good at the game, like freakishly skilled. everyone is kind of afraid to question it so they just accept it and move on

he and pidge are really the only ones who are focusing on the actual game content anymore, so they start doing high-level raids together and then begin to gain something of a reputation as a terrifying duo in player-versus-player combat.

keith is resilient. he is a notoriously stubborn boy and no amount of puppy dog eyes from hunk or persuasive lectures from shiro will convince him to step outside his comfort zone

but lance, well. lance knows exactly how to get keith to do what he wants

“i bet you just know my character’s way cooler than yours would be”

“?? no. i literally dont care about your character or anybody else's”

“huh. guess i will just always be better at video games than you”

“are you seriously still trying to hold your killbot phantasm score over my head. you got lucky”

“i am the peerless king of video games–”

“are you listening to yourself. do you actually hear the words coming from your mouth.”

“–undefeated because you are too much of a coward–”

“fuck OFF send me the fucking download link you loudmouth”

keith takes. forever. to design his character.

lance is leaning over the back of keith’s chair, giving outrageous suggestions (and blatant lies) that keith pointedly ignores

“keith. keith if you give him neon orange hair it boosts your speed, did you know that?”

“choosing big ears gives you greater perception stats keith”

“keith listen to me, you gain the ability to breathe underwater if you choose a broken nose—OW, what the hell–”

keith takes SO LONG that eventually lance has to leave for dance lessons and when he gets back keith is only JUST finishing up

turns out he took so long because he wanted to use every resource available in the game to make the character look like a carbon copy of himself. the end result would have been impressive if it wasn’t so eerily accurate

“you’re seriously naming him keith kogane.”

“it’s my name!”

“keith it’s a ROLEPLAYING game. you’re supposed to play a ROLE”

“and my role is keith kogane.”

“that doesnt even fit the naming conventions for the humans in this game! hunk would be having a FIT right now if he was here”

“good thing he’s not”

keith selects the warrior class because, as lance repeatedly and petulantly insists, he is a “boring basic bitch fuckboy”

“im the fuckboy?? thats rich coming from a guy who plays an archer because he has a big fat crush on orlando bloom in a blond wig”

“HUNK is spreading LIES okay I do NOT have a cru–”

“i dont know what you see in him. he’s literally just a white lotor”

“you TAKE THAT BACK”

to be continued :)

#gfkjhdgfDGF im a mess i spent my ENTIRE day and night on this why am i like this kill me #i havent written anything for vld in a long time and it HIT me and i just got carried away :( perhaps i miss them #klance #video game au #headcanon #vld #moonguilt content

121 notes · View notes

pan-princess-levy · 4 years

Photo

pan-princess-levy’s (that’s me!) 2019 summary of art

wow! what an year this was! time for retrospection...

holy hell, i drew... a lot of stuff. i dont think there are quite the 500 files (both process and finished) for 2019 but i think i drew maybe. 250? 300 separate pieces? and im so proud of myself!

lets just ignore the fact only half of my summary pieces are published ones and the other half are just favorites from my un-published work hahahAHAHHA

(as you can probably guess, the months where the drawings are the most sketchy - february, april and november - didnt really have that much artwork im proud of. i have an excuse for novermber, because i was writing for nanowrimo, but i have no memory of the other two. rip me.)

so! a word for every piece!

january: a sketch of cana im still awfully proud of! i used a poster of luke evans as bard the bowman from the hobbit trilogy as a base and im just! still shook

february: part 3 (summer) of my seasons levy drawings alas i never got to autumn it’s connected to one of my countless aus, where she is a forest guardian spirit

march: this piece of gajeel! (but with a the agender pride flag because i got up to editing it later) im still so fond of how it came out! i used it for discord icon for a while back then

april: a clothing/jewelry study i was doing! it is kind of connected to another au i shall never write. (yes. there are. a lot of them.)

may: the famous mermay piece! it was drawn for the first weekly challenge organized on the @gajevyevents discord server and i still think its one of best pieces. very proud of it

june: this amazing levy piece for pride month! i did a lot of drawings for pride as part of a project by @ft-wwtdp but this one is closer to my heart. shes a flower gorl,,,,

july: okay. this one? this one is one my favorite drawing i’ve ever done. it’s my phone wallpaper. it might? look silly and crappy compared to the rest? but it’s my favorite and i love it so much! it’s a silly pokemon au inspired by the pokemon 2014 masters division spectacular pachirisu. IM A NERD OKAY (theyre just. so soft.)

august: ALRIGHT! THIS! THIS ONE! this one is so dear to my heart because its a redraw of one ancient drawing of mine. back in the day i had a voltron au and this is levy’s design for that au but just. this drawing makes me go all soft.

september: this piece i did for @finweanladiesweek! it was the first silm fandom event i took part in and it still fills me with warmth. i had so much fun drawing it - september was when i caved in and finally bought clip studio paint and you can clearly see the difference in quality from there

october: my profile picture! god this one was so much fun, i will never forget it. i thought a lot about this one, whether i wanted to put it or the gajeel day piece i did, but in the end i found i liked this a little bit better.

november: alright, no lies here, i have only like 4 or 5 drawing from november because i was so busy with nanowrimo! this one is a gajeel design study. i struggled a lot between it and another similar piece (gajeel in full profile instead of 3/4) but at last decided on this one. its,,,, soft,,, he soft,,,

december: THIS BAD BOY! i poured hours upon hours of research on this one, it can fit so many artist crying fits. i still think its one of the best ive done, and its so shiny and bright.....

i dont think im supposed to reminisce so hard but it’s the end of the year and im just. im having a lot of feels, you know? i grew up a lot as person, both creative and personal-wise, a lot of things happened. im very happy with all the progress ive done and i cannot wait for what awaits me next year.

i hope 2019 was good to you and i wish you a happier and merrier 2020!

#artists on tumblr #tumblr artist #art summary #2019 art sumary #art on tumblr #monnydoesart #monny talks #wow that was a lot!#i dont think it was the worst year for me #and im kind of #proud of myself?

10 notes · View notes

scientifthicc · 5 years

Text

You’re Gonna Catch a Cold

hello all! this is my valentine’s day exchange gift for the wonderful @shadowsofrainbows ily!! hello, i’m your valentine skdjskj. i really hope you enjoy the gift because i’m not sure if its any good or not so i’m sorry if it sucks. i really enjoyed writing it and its a tyrus fanfic so i hope you like it :)) by the way, im sorry this is posting so late, tungler dot com was being a butt and i couldn’t post it until now :(( sorry to keep you waiting so long hhh

also!! a big thank you and shout out to @swingsetboys for organizing this valentine’s day gift exchange!! these gift exchanges are so fun to do and without you we wouldn’t have them so thank you ilyy! and thanks for being so kind and helpful when tumblr’s a pain in the ass skdjsk

Cyrus tapped his foot impatiently as he anxiously waited for TJ to answer the call.

TJ’s voice comes from the phone, but it’s not him, it’s his voicemail. “It’s TJ. If you’re hearing this it’s probably because I don’t feel like answering the phone right now. Leave a message, if you want.” A beep comes from the phone, signaling the start of the voicemail.

Cyrus took a breath before starting to not sound as worried as he really was. “Hey TJ, it’s Cyrus. Again. Nobody’s heard from you in a couple days so please please please answer me as soon as you can.” Pressing the red End button, he turned to his friends with a downcast face. Cyrus had been stressing out since Tuesday when TJ didn’t show up to school and didn’t answer what had come to be many texts and calls. None of the teachers TJ had seemed to know what was happening either, sending him into a whirlwind of thoughts. Is TJ okay? Is he hurt? Is he dying? No, he’s not dying. But what if he is dying?? Now it was Saturday, and the GHC was standing outside the Spoon, waiting to go in as Cyrus called TJ for the millionth time.

“No answer,” he said with a frown.

“Cyrus. Relax. He’s probably fine,” Buffy said, putting her hands on Cyrus’s shoulders and drawing out the word “relax”. She spun him around and ushered him into the Spoon.

“Yeah,” Andi scoffed, as they found a booth and sat down. “You’re probably just going through a TJ-withdraw.” Andi and Buffy chuckled while Cyrus scowled.

“Right,” he said, looking over the menu and pretending to ignore Andi’s comment. “He’s probably fine.” He paused to take his order when the waitress came over before continuing. “That doesn’t guarantee he’s okay. What if he needs our help?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “If you want to know so bad, why don’t you stop by his house and find out?”

“You’re right,” Cyrus said determinedly, putting both palms on the table and standing up.

“Wait- now? Your food hasn’t even arrived yet” Buffy said, but Cyrus was already out of his seat.

“Update us!!” Andi yelled as Cyrus was walking out the door, earning a thumbs up from him as he left to signal that he had heard them.

Andi and Buffy exchanged a knowing look, and Buffy rolled her eyes once again. “He left his coat,” Buffy giggled.

On his way there, the sound of Cyrus’s feet crunching in the snow was the only sound that could be heard, and he couldn’t help but think about what could have happened to TJ. Was he grounded? Cyrus doubted that. He wouldn’t be surprised if his parents took away his phone if he was in trouble, but it doesn’t make sense that they would keep him from coming to school. Did TJ get into trouble at school? He didn’t want to think of that as a possibility. He knew TJ was better than that. Did his family go on vacation? No way. TJ definitely would have told him beforehand.

Eventually, Cyrus ended up on TJ’s front porch that afternoon, pacing in front of the door as he waited, shivering, since he accidentally left his coat with Buffy and Andi in his rush to leave the Spoon. He let out a frosty breath, looking down at his feet as he stopped in front of the door, hands in his pockets, and waited.

“Hey,” said a congested-sounding voice, making Cyrus jump as he broke out of his thoughts.

Looking up, Cyrus went to respond but stopped short at the sight in front of him, barely preventing himself from choking on the frigid air around him. Standing there in front of him, in the doorway, was TJ Kippen himself, but different. He clearly looked sick, and he was wearing gray sweatpants Cyrus had never seen on him before, but it got worse; he had no hair gel, making her hair a fluffy dirty-blonde mess, and was wearing glasses. Cyrus couldn’t help but be a teensy bit upset by the fact that TJ had never told him that he actually wore contacts. A little forewarning would’ve been nice — he was having trouble handling the sight in front him at that moment. It took him a while before Cyrus realized he was staring at him like an idiot.

“Uh- TJ! You’re okay!” Cyrus finally exclaimed before cringing, realizing TJ wasn’t exactly okay, considering he was sick and wishing he had kept his mouth shut. “I mean— you’re not dead, at least.” He facepalmed. “I— nevermind. Hi TJ.”

TJ started laughing before devolving into a coughing fit. Growing concerned, Cyrus let himself inside and shut the door to keep TJ out of the cold. “Are you okay?”

“I’m good. I’m a little sick. Just a little, though,” he answered with a heavily congested voice before sneezing multiple times.

They walked into the kitchen, where Cyrus immediately felt warm. The entire house gave off a welcoming, lived-in, and cozy feel, especially the kitchen with the warm beige walls, different variety of mugs in one of the see-through cabinets, and the pictures on the fridge that displayed upcoming events, drawings TJ made when he was about 7 or 8 maybe, and souvenir magnets. When he saw the old drawings, Cyrus smiled, admiring how cute they were, before turning back to TJ as they both sat down at the kitchen table. “Did your parents take away your phone or something?”

“I mean, technically.”

Cyrus gestured for TJ to continue.

“Well.” TJ paused to cough. “My parents are the — sniff — type of parents who don’t let you — sneeze — use your phone when you get sick, because they think using it will be bad for you and delay you from getting better,” he explained before grabbing a tissue from one of the boxes that were currently everywhere in the house and blowing his nose. “So, when I got sick and had to stay home, I couldn’t really let you know, which sucked.” He coughed a couple times.

Cyrus frowned. “That sucks.” TJ nodded his head in agreement. “ I was so stressed. I was worried you died or something. I must have called you at least 15 times.” Cyrus couldn’t help but cringe at how desperate he must’ve sounded, but TJ would’ve eventually seen the calls and texts when he got his phone back anyways, so he had nothing to lose.

TJ grinned and opened his mouth to say something, but before he could say anything, he started to cough. He was shivering a little as well, despite the fact that it was currently warm in the house.

Cyrus frowned again. “Where’s the blankets?” TJ vaguely gestured to a door under the stairs — while still coughing into his arm — that seemed to be a small closet. He fetched a pink blanket, with Dora, Diego, Backpack, and Boots with huge lettering that told you it was Dora the Explorer blanket — in case you weren’t sure before — and threw it on TJ before moving to the cabinets to hunt around for a tea kettle, a mug, and a tea bag. Once he finally found what he needed, he started preparing tea for TJ. The tea kettle was already filled with water and heating up on the stove before TJ finally spoke up.

“Uh, Cyrus?” TJ questioned, finally removing the blanket from over his head where it had been thrown on him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making you tea and taking care of you, duh,” Cyrus responded, now setting a pot on the stove and searching through the cabinets for ramen soup (every house had to have ramen, he thought) while he waited for the tea to be made. Cyrus, still facing the cabinets, kept going before TJ could say anything. “I don’t see anyone else around, so I’m gonna be the one to do it.” He was clearly in full-parent mode by now, and there was no going back. Putting the ramen packet he finally found down and turning to face TJ, he asked, “By the way, where are your parents?”

TJ rested his head on his arm. ”They’re gone for the weekend for a wedding. They didn’t want to leave me in the ’state I was in’, but they’d RSVP’d months before,” he answered, complete with air quotes, sniffs, and sneezes.

“Oh. Uh, okay,” he said, turning around to continue making the soup and to hide his blush. They were gonna be alone for God knows how long and Cyrus didn’t know how to feel about it. Cyrus and TJ sat in comfortable silence for a couple minutes while Cyrus made the soup. He may not know shit about cooking, but he had learned to at least make soup for when his parents were out and there was nothing else to eat, so it had become a staple food for him. Cyrus assumed it was comfortable silence, at least; it was entirely possible that TJ could have fallen asleep and Cyrus wouldn’t have been surprised. In reality, though, although Cyrus was unaware, TJ couldn’t help but stare at Cyrus and appreciate what he was doing for TJ. He felt undeserving to have someone as lucky as Cyrus care for him, even though it wasn’t like he would ever tell him how he felt.

Eventually handing TJ the tea that had finally finished being made (“With honey and lemon to help your cold, of course,” Cyrus had told him), he broke the silence by asking how he had managed to get by at all so far in the state he was in.

“I haven’t,” TJ answered after a couple seconds of thought. “I was dying earlier. But I’m dying a little less now.”

“Thank God I’m here, I guess,” Cyrus said with a smile. Time stood still for a second as TJ and Cyrus simply stared at each other for a couple seconds, a blush creeping up on both of their faces, not that oblivious TJ noticed Cyrus’s blush, or vice versa. The awkward silence was clearly cutting through the room, though, so Cyrus cleared his throat before it could get worse, turning to check on the soup to find that it was ready.

Handing TJ the soup, Cyrus told him, “Okay, well, go to your room and lay down. I’ll be up in a couple minutes with something else and I’m gonna pick a movie for us to watch.”

TJ rolled his eyes. “I’m not that sick, Underdog,” he informs him before hacking and coughing once again. No matter how many times TJ says it, Cyrus’s heart skips a beat when TJ calls him “Underdog”, and he knew it always would.

“Go upstairs, TJ,” Cyrus said with half-seriousness.

Begrudgingly, TJ stood, soup in hand and Dora-themed blanket wrapped around him and held together with the other. “You’re being such a mom,” TJ grumbled under his breath, but loud enough to still be heard by Cyrus (which he totally did on purpose).

“What was that?” Cyrus called with raised eyebrows.

TJ flashed a cocky grin at him. “Nothing!” he answered with a cheeky (but stuffy) voice before sludging upstairs to obey Cyrus.

Cyrus’s eyes followed TJ with a goofy grin as he trudged up the stairs. Never would Cyrus understand how TJ managed to be so charming, even when he was sick.

Once TJ was upstairs, he pulled out his phone and opened his notes to find the smoothie recipe he kept around for when somebody got sick. It was a random thing to keep on your phone, but in Cyrus’s defense, you never know when you need to make an emergency smoothie and it obviously it came in handy.

The smoothie turned out to be a greenish-brown color, giving Cyrus some serious doubts on how good the smoothie actually was — not to mention how it would taste — but Cyrus grabbed some straws and headed upstairs anyways. Walking through the hallway on his way to TJ’s room, he spotted lots of family pictures throughout the years, baby pictures of TJ, and school pictures, as well as baseball pictures, of TJ. Cyrus couldn’t help but gush over how adorable TJ was in all the pictures, and couldn’t resist from taking a few pictures from his phone of the multiple photos on wall for blackmail and future birthday posts.

Finally finding TJ’s room and walking into it, he found that TJ had already chosen and started some kind of action movie without Cyrus, and was laying down in bed. TJ sat up when Cyrus entered the room, though.

Cyrus pouted. “You already started without me?” he said with mock-sadness and betrayal in his voice. TJ just shrugged. “I forgive you. I know the sickness is getting to your head.” Cyrus handing him the smoothie and straws. “I made a smoothie. It’s not poison, I promise. I think.”

TJ laughed and took the smoothie. “Thanks, Underdog. You really didn’t have to do all of this for me. I don’t deserve it,” TJ said with a soft smile that made Cyrus want to kiss him on the spot, but when hearing that TJ thought he didn’t “deserve it”, he couldn’t help but go off on a tangent.

“But I did have to! And I wanted to, too. You most definitely deserved it and I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving you here by yourself when you were sick and if I wasn’t here then there would’ve been no one here to take of you and who knows what would’ve happened if I didn’t do anything about it and I didn’t have had any contact with you because you don’t have your phone so I wouldn’t have been able to check up on you to see how you’re doing and you’re already sick so you need to feel comfortable and have company and get better and what if you got worse and—”

“Cyrus! Cy- Underdog! Listen to me Cyrus. It’s okay,” TJ said, cutting him off and trying to calm him down. “Look at me. I’m fine. Okay, I’m not fine, but I’m not dying and I’m not going to die. You really don’t have to go full parent mode on me. I’ll be okay,” he said with a soft smile. “Now,” he said, once Cyrus has realized he had gotten too worked up and had calmed down a little. “Come sit down and watch this stupid movie with me.” TJ grinned and patted the bed.

Cyrus let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Sorry. When I really care about someone I get super caring and protecting, I guess,” he answered, smiling sheepishly. Cyrus was beginning to feel embarrassed about his tiny outburst, but knowing TJ wasn’t judging him, he was able to relax.

TJ blushed at the thought the Cyrus cared about him so much. “It’s okay. I honestly really appreciate it, Cy.” Without thinking, Tj decided to be bold. “It’s pretty cute, to be honest,” TJ said, before taking a sip of the smoothie handed him. But before Cyrus could choke about what TJ just said (and before TJ could freak out about what had come out of his mouth before he could think about it), TJ coughed and made a fake gagging noise. “Ugh! This is disgusting. What’s in it?” he asked with a disgusted tone, gesturing to the smoothie in his hand.

“Well, there’s spinach, orange juice, basil, beets, carrots… all of which is supposed to help you heal more quickly!” Cyrus said, realizing how gross the combination sounded when he said it out loud.

TJ fake gagged again, making a “blech” noise and pretending to stick a finger near his mouth at the thought of the mixture. “It’s horrible. Taste it with me?” he suggested with a smirk, offering Cyrus a straw.

Cyrus accepted the straw, acting like he was extending his hand at a royal ball. “Gladly,” he responded with mock formality, taking a seat next to TJ on his bed and sticking his straw into the smoothie.

“On the count of three?” TJ asked, to which Cyrus nodded. “No chickening out!” he announced it advance.

“I won’t!” Cyrus promised.

TJ took a deep breath. “Okay. One…” Cyrus took a deep breath and braced himself as much as he could. “Two....” TJ grimaced, not prepared to take another sip. “And…. three!” Cyrus quickly took and swallowed a decent sip to keep his promise, but TJ only pretended to take a sip.

Immediately, Cyrus turned away and gagged. “Why do I even try to do anything related to cooking?” Cyrus rasped, disgusted, while TJ laughed his head off. Hearing his laughter, Cyrus whipped head back towards TJ. “You didn’t drink it?” he yelped. TJ shook his head no. “The betrayal!” he gasped, putting a hand over his heart. Then, he scowled. “Okay, this time we both have to try it. No fake outs, TJ, and I mean it.” Cyrus attempted to say this in a threatening voice, which wasn’t very successful, although TJ agreed anyways.

“On my count this time,” Cyrus stated. Just before the countdown, Cyrus heard his phone go off multiple times next to him, most definitely texts from Buffy and Andi asking him to update them. They can be patient for a couple hours, he thought to himself, fumbling around for his phone without moving from his position, and shutting it off so they wouldn’t distract him. I might do something daring in a couple seconds, and now is not the time “One…” They both leaned into the horrid smoothie. “Two…” Cyrus’s eyes flickered up to meet TJ’s, causing them both to realize how close they were. “Three,” Cyrus announced in a breathless voice, and a second later, instead of lips meeting their straws, Cyrus leaned in before he could second-guess himself, TJ’s lips meeting Cyrus’s as he leaned in that the same time to close the distance as well.

It was as if they had both planned it, as if they were on the same wavelength. The kiss was a short but meaningful one, saying so many things neither of them had dared to say before and confirming their feelings towards each other. It felt like two pieces of puzzle fitting together, the perfect match.

They broke apart after a few seconds, foreheads touching and their eyes gleaming, saying things that neither of them seemed to be capable of saying with their own mouths. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of just staring at each and blushing, both started to giggle.

“If you don’t be careful Cyrus, you’re gonna catch a cold,” TJ said, smiling so wide he could hardly contain it.

Cyrus grinned. “Too bad,” he shrugged, leaning in to close the gap once more.

Four Days Later

“I told you that you were gonna get sick!” TJ chuckled.

Cyrus blew his nose and pouted. “Yeah, but I hoped that my immune system would prove you otherwise!” Cyrus sighed. “Clearly, it let me down,” he said, barely able to finish his sentence before sneezing. “Why can’t I see you right now?” he said with a frown, wanting to reach through the screen to see TJ in real life.

“Hm. Bless you, by the way,” TJ pretended to think for a second. “Maybe it’s because I had to come to school and you’re bedridden with a cold?” He suggested, smirking.

“Oh,” Cyrus said with a downcast face. “I guess that’s true.” Cyrus went to continue the conversation, but when Cyrus opened his mouth the speak again, he heard the bell signaling the final warning to get to class go off.

“As much as I hate to say it, I gotta get to class, Underdog,” TJ announced sadly, causing Cyrus to pout once again and make him want to stubbornly insist that TJ stay, but he accepted defeat instead, deciding to sleep in to make the school day go by as quickly as possible. “See you after school, boyfriend!” TJ exclaimed with the biggest, goofiest grin on his face, blowing him a kiss through the screen.

Cyrus pretended to catch it and put it on his heart, an equally big and goofy grin on his face. “You too, boyfriend. It’s my turn to choose the movie, by the way. Bring soup!”

#andi mack #tyrus #cyrus goodman #tj kippen #buffy driscoll #andi mack fanfic #andi mack fanfiction #tyrus fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #valentine's day gift exchange #andi mack gift exchange #//#i hope this finally posts hhhhhhhh

262 notes · View notes