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jalapeno-princess · 3 years

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Be Mine Again

Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: Angst (With a happy ending)

Word Count: 10.6K

Summary: Mark practically lived on airplanes; being a KPOP idol meant he was constantly traveling. Waking up early to head over to the airport was something he was used to. However, these last few months for Mark have been an actual living hell. He was exhausted beyond belief, having only three hours of sleep and so he decided to grab some coffee. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary; the Seoul airport was busy as always, yet that doesn’t stop him from noticing that the customer that was currently being rung reminded him of you. It’s been a while since he’s last seen you, but Mark knew you like the back of his hand. When he comes to the realization that it is you, he comes to accept the fact that the two of you at the same place at the same time wasn’t just merely coincidence and he wasn’t going to take this chance for granted.

A/N: Hey guys, I have two papers due in less than two hours, but I wanted to post this by tonight (PRIORITIES) hahahahahaha if I don’t graduate in May, we all know why. I actually wrote this last year but I never had the motivation to finish it. However, the words just kept flowing out and here we are. I’m still trying to get my motivation back to continue other stories, but until then, please enjoy this one! This is based on the song “Wake me up” by Ed Sheeran.

I should ink my skin With your name And take my passport out again And just replace it

See I could do without a tan on my left hand Where my fourth finger meets my knuckle And I should run you a hot bath And fill it up with bubbles

'Cause maybe you're lovable Maybe you're my snowflake And your eyes turn from green to gray In the winter I'll hold you in a cold place And you should never cut your hair 'Cause I love the way you flick it off your shoulder

And you will never know Just how beautiful you are to me But maybe I'm just in love When you wake me up

Mark was never a morning person but it was quite understandable. He’d always have to wake up at the crack of dawn and head to dance practice or to the studio for a recording session. Luckily today was his first legitimate day off in months and he wanted nothing more than to sleep in till noon and spend the rest of his day doing nothing with you.

To his dismay, he found himself waking up a bit too early for his liking because he noticed the bed seemed more spacious and you weren’t there when he reached out to pull you closer to his body. Your boyfriend knew you weren’t a morning person either and with the way your job was overworking you to the bone these days, Mark knew you were just as tired as he was and needed a well deserved break; so where exactly could you have gone?

His questions were soon answered when the scent of bacon and blueberry pancakes filled your bedroom and he couldn’t help but grin at the idea of you making breakfast. It’s been a while since the two of you really got to spend time together. He’s been on tour with Got7 for the last six months and you were only able to visit him three times during the entire tour because your schedule was just as hectic as his was.

He couldn’t wait to spend time with his favorite girl and hopefully you had the same ideas of how the day was going to play out. Once he put on some boxers and a t-shirt to look more decent, he made his way in to the living room and toward the kitchen but stopped once his eyes landed on your curvaceous figure.

You were currently wearing his t-shirt from the night before and a cute little thong that left little to the imagination and his mind began to wander to your little love making session a few hours prior. He had to bite his lip to prevent himself from groaning at how sexy you looked and making his presence known but he didn’t care.

Mark loved making it aware just how much of an effect you had on him. Your boyfriend wasn’t all that secretive in trying to hide that he had just joined you and you could hear his footsteps as he made his way toward you, so you weren’t as surprised when you felt his arms wrap lazily around your waist as he placed his chin on your shoulder.

“Good morning baby. Smells good, and I’m not talking about the food.” You playfully rolled your eyes at his comment and although you couldn’t see him, you knew by the intonation in his voice that he was smiling.

“How are you feeling this morning? I didn’t go too rough on you did I?” You decided to turn around and stole a chaste kiss from the corner of his mouth before playfully pinching his cheek.

“You give yourself too much credit Tuan. I’m walking around just fine aren’t I?”

The adorable pout he gave you after your cheeky response sent warmth to your cheeks but you know it was all just an act. Mark knew you were just messing with him because as the two of you were having sex, you wouldn’t stop screaming his name in pleasure and begging him to go faster. Normally your love making sessions were always so passionate and tender; full of love confessions and sensual touches. However, last night was a little more on the dominant and rough side not that you were complaining.

Got7’s world tour ended just three days ago and as soon as Mark landed back in Korea yesterday afternoon, he made a beeline straight to your shared apartment and both showed you and told you just how much he’s missed you since he’s been away the entire day. You had a couple of bruises on your hips, thighs and around your neck but you didn’t care. As much as you loved how soft and extremely caring Mark could be whenever it came to you, you loved his kinky and animalistic side just a little bit more.

“Hmm, I guess I’m just going to have to change your mind by fucking your brains out the entire day then huh? Oh, by the way, you look so fucking sexy in my shirt y/n. God, I don’t know how I can go so long without seeing you and kissing you, it’s fucking torture. I missed you so much baby.”

You smiled widely in to the kiss when he practically smashed his lips against yours and you automatically wrapped your arms around his neck; wanting to be as close to him as possible. He only deepened the kiss and turned off the stove before hoisting you on top of the kitchen counter and finding his way in between your legs. Being in a long distance relationship was extremely tough and it was even harder knowing that your boyfriend was one of the biggest international celebrities in the entire world.

Sometimes, you’d forget you were dating a Kpop idol because Mark seemed like such a normal guy. To the world, he was Got7’s main rapper Mark Tuan but to you, he was your cheesy and extremely corny boyfriend who cried at Disney movies, didn’t know how to multiply numbers once they went in to the double digits and always left the toilet seat up no matter how many times you’d remind him to put it down.

You never viewed him to be anyone other than the man you were in a relationship with and he never did or said anything to make you feel uncomfortable in your relationship. He did his best to keep in touch with you as much as he could and he used every minute of his free time to check up on you and make sure you were doing okay. Your happiness was Mark’s number one priority and he did anything in his power to make sure you were happy and got whatever you wanted.

“I missed you too. I actually took the rest of the week off because a little birdie told me you guys don’t have any schedule until Tuesday so I want to spend as much time with you as possible. I’m all yours Mark. Do whatever you want with me.”

You regretted those words the minute they fell from your lips because of the mischievous grin that quickly rose on his face. Mark was a very playful and cheeky guy. From previous experience, you learned that your boyfriend had many tricks up his sleeve. Making love to you was his favorite past time and he would take advantage of any time he physically had with you.

“Anything?” You nodded in agreement; you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited to see what Mark had planned for the two of you but knowing him, it had to deal with him being the dominant one and maybe even getting to accomplish one of his kinks.

“Yes, but to an extent. No anal—don’t look at me like that I told you it’s a big no babe. Oh and no bondage. You know how I get when I’m tied up. But I do want to try that one position I sent to you.” His grip on your waist tightened and he sneakily hid his face in the crook of your neck only to leave a couple of sloppy love bites there.

“Mmm, I’ll do anything you ask of me baby. Why don’t we skip breakfast and I can eat you out instead—ow! I hope you’re this rough with me in bed later on.”

The airport was extremely busy today and Mark cursed his manager for scheduling a couple of photo shoots for him during one of the busiest seasons of the year; winter. Everyone was either going on a trip or returning home for one and with him being the former, he was frustrated with how long the lines at security were and how many paparazzi showed up at his gate just to take photos of him.

It wasn’t that Mark didn’t love being an idol. He loved performing and entertaining all of his fans alongside of his six best friends. He loved writing songs, loved traveling the world and experiencing so many different cultures, food and adventures while they were on tour. However, he was willing to give it all up if it meant getting you back in his life. You were everything Mark could ever want and need in his life.

The two of you were together for almost four years and if soulmates existed, you were Mark’s as he was yours. You meant the world to him and he loved you more than he could ever put in to words. Which is why he was completely devastated when you told him you were breaking up with him. The break up wasn’t completely unexpected; that is why Mark wasn’t too shocked when you told him you could no longer handle the long distance and that you felt like you weren’t too important to him.

Mark knew that wasn’t the truth and he could only hope that you didn’t ultimately think so either, but after five months of being away from you, it gave Mark time to think where he went wrong and what caused you to finally give up on your relationship with him. Being an idol wasn’t all that easy, but dating one must’ve been ten times more difficult.

Not only was he gone most of the time, but the time difference really did interfere with your communication schedule. If he was waking up, you were getting ready for bed and if he was right about to go to sleep, you were clocking in to work. You only really ever got to talk to him on the weekends if you were lucky and even if Mark did his best to contact you and to check up on you, it wasn’t the same as spending time with him and talking with him face to face rather than through a phone screen.

Then came your insecurities. Mark knew how insecure you could get when it came to dating him. If he was in your shoes, he’d be pretty insecure too, so it was understandable. But he never failed to reassure you that you were the only girl he genuinely ever loved and planned on loving for the rest of his life. He told you on a daily basis that he planned on marrying you and settling down with you one day once his idol life were to simmer down.

You tried your best to be patient and understanding when it came to dating him because not only was he in a relationship with you, but he was in a relationship with his career and as much as Mark tried to prioritize you and your relationship, deep down you knew you’d always come second to his job. When you confessed your feelings and thoughts to him, to say he was upset that you were breaking up with him was an understatement.

Did you fall out of love with him? Was there someone else? Did you finally come to the realization that you deserved better? There were so many thoughts that ran through his head and all he could do was sink to his knees and cry while pathetically wrapping his arms around your legs and begging you to stay. In your four years of dating, Mark grew to know what an independent and determined person you were and how you had such a great head on your shoulders.

He knew that when you set your heart to something, you always accomplished it; a breakup was no different and no matter how many times he’d beg and pleaded for you to stay, your mind was already made up and there was nothing he could do to stop you. Mark knew it was selfish to want you to stay. Your relationship wasn’t the healthiest; the two of you had your fair share of arguments and disagreements. But your love was always enough to defeat any negative thought or idea you had.

This time was different though and you were extremely tired of not being as important to Mark as he was to you. You put him on a pedestal; you gave him the world on a silver platter and he could barely give you a couple minutes of his time because he was always so busy. For months, you’ve been debating on breaking up with him, especially because you were so in love with him and just like Mark, you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him and only him.

However, the longer you continued your relationship, the more unhappy you became and sometimes it felt as if you weren’t even in a relationship. Breaking up with Mark was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do in your entire life and as soon as he sank on to the floor, sobbing and heaving; begging you to change your mind, you knew you made a mistake. Mark has never been the same since you’ve left.

Although it’s been over five months since the night you broke his heart and took whatever was left of it with you, things only got worse for him as the days went on. He missed you more and more every day and even if the guys did their best in cheering him up and attempting to help him move on by setting him up with other girls, there was just no getting over you.

As soon as Mark and his manager got settle down at their gate, they took their seats and Mark decided to stay away from his phone for a while. Sometimes, all the comments, posts, direct messages and tweets on social media could be so toxic and he couldn’t help but overthink at all the negativity. It was in those moments where he would run to you.

Other than Got7 and his family, you were the only person he trusted and he trusted you with his entire life. That says a lot. Mark was an extremely private person. He had a hard time trusting and opening up to people. The only reason why he portrayed himself as such a shy and introverted person was because he didn’t want people taking advantage of him and his kindness.

After meeting you, getting to know you and dating you for so long, Mark learned that his happiness, health and success was your main priority. You always stayed up until the wee hours of the morning to talk to him and to listen to him vent about his worries and all of his problems and not once did you complain about how tired you probably were or how repetitive he was sounding but that’s because you loved him so much and wanted to be there for him no matter what time it was, who you were with or what you were doing.

You’d drop anything and everyone for Mark and he was forever grateful. You were so selfless and never expected anything in return for your patience and generosity. Mark always felt so safe with you. You were his home and God, he was homesick. He took a look at his passport in disgust. This was one of the main reasons why you could no longer handle being in a relationship with him.

Almost every single page was filled out with many difference countries and cities all around the world. China, Japan, Australia, New York, Russia, Italy, Brazil, Philippines. He only had a couple of pages left to fill up and he knew he’d need a new passport by the end of the month. What bothered him even more was knowing that he had just gotten this passport less than five months ago.

Right after he returned back home to your upsetting decision, his management gave him a new passport and informed him that he had a schedule in Thailand just three days later. It wasn’t that he hated traveling; no. Mark loved seeing all these different places, trying their food, meeting their people and learning about their cultures.

It was being away from you that he hated the most. No matter how many times you told him you were excited for him to explore and live his best life, he knew you wanted to be there alongside of him experiencing it all too because that’s all he wanted. Every high that went on in his life, he wanted you right there by his side basking in his excitement with him.

Learning how to live without you was a painful experience and he became so unhappy to the point where he took a few days off from the tour in order to see a therapist for his depression. Mark knew how much you meant to him the minute he told Jaebeom he wanted to leave Got7 in order to be with you.

The leader thought it was an extremely abrupt and stupid decision on Mark’s part but he understood where his older friend was coming from. He witnessed the way you and Mark looked at one another. If he had to describe what love was, it was in your gazes alone that could explain what the four letter word meant.

Everyone and their mothers knew just how much you and Mark loved and cared for one another. When Mark told the six of them that you broke up with him, they were in disbelief. Sure, the six of them had girlfriends and even a couple of flings and one night stands every now and then but you were the only constant girlfriend amongst their group and they all felt that you both would get married to each other once their careers were to settle down.

Jinyoung and Jackson were the closest with Mark; so they saw just how much the breakup had wrecked him and no matter how much they tried to tell him that you were going to come back and that you just needed some time without him, he didn’t believe anything anyone had to say. If you still loved him, you’d still be with him no matter how hard your relationship was. The passport began to taunt him the longer he stared at it.

“This is all your fucking fault.” He began to flick at the pages earning himself a look of confusion from his manager.

“Hey, everything okay?” Mark shook his head in disagreement.

“I’m just tired. I’ll go get some coffee or something. Be right back.”

He didn’t care what his manager’s response was and he couldn’t care less if he were to get followed. Mark wasn’t even much of a coffee person. You were taking up the entirety of his thinking process and he just needed some time to think. Something to distract him. When he walked up to the coffee shop, there were two people in front of him but he paid none of them any mind and went on his phone.

The guys were wishing him safe travels and hoped that the photo shoot and filming for a reality tv show he was going to be on went well. A small smile rose on his face at the idea of how much they all loved and cared about him. He really didn’t know what he were to do or how he would cope without them.

“I’ll have a venti iced matcha latte. Thank you.”

It was in that moment that time froze. He knew that voice anywhere. It was etched in to the back of his head and imprinted on his heart. Your laugh along with your sweet, soft voice was one of Mark’s favorite sounds and he would listen to you talk all day if he could. He looked at the person currently at the cash register and shook his head in disbelief. Mark had to be hallucinating. It must’ve been the lack of sleep. There was no way that could’ve been you.

The girl had extremely short hair, up to her shoulders compared to the long, silky waves you’ve had for the last few years that Mark loved so much. She was also wearing something completely different than what you had in your wardrobe. The older boy knew you like the back of his hand. He knew each and every curve on your body; on top of every birth and beauty mark scattered throughout your skin. Surely he would’ve known if it was you. It was possible for someone to have the same exact voice as you—wasn’t it?

Sure, the girl ordered your favorite drink, but everyone seemed to be in to matcha these days. It didn’t mean anything. Bringing his attention back to his phone, he tried his best to take his mind off of comparing you and the girl in front of him. However, once the cashier asked for the girl’s name, his entire world came crashing down on him.

“Y/n.”

It was you. But so much has changed about you in the last few months. Once you got out of line and made your way off to the side, it was in that moment Mark confirmed that yes, it was you. So many questions began running through his mind. What were you doing there at the airport? Why did you cut your hair and change your style? Was it an effect of the breakup? Did you know he was there? You had to—or least have heard that some kind of celebrity was there with the way that the paparazzi and fans were filling up the gateway.

A part of him wanted to turn around and pretend as if he didn’t see you, but another part of him, one he understood was his heart was begging for him to go and talk to you. It would be alright wouldn’t it? It’s been months and the two of you started off as friends in the first place. It was only normal for him to say hi. Matter of a fact, it would’ve been rude if he didn’t. Once he made his way up to the cashier, he was quick to see the way a grin quickly rose on her face.

“Hi, what can I get for you to—today.” He gave her a polite smile before looking up at the menu board.

“Just a grande iced caramel macchiato with two shots of espresso please—oh and one cream cheese scone. Thank you.” He reached out to take out his wallet but she shook her head.

“It’s on the house Mark. I’m a huge fan. Have a nice rest of your day.”

He thanked her politely and wished her a nice day before making his way toward where you were standing. You were currently on your phone and he began to have an internal argument with himself on whether or not he should go up and talk to you. What could go wrong?

Well, you could pretend as if you didn’t know who he was and just leave him looking like an idiot, or you could start a conversation with him like you normally did. Right as he was about to open his mouth and say something to you, his order was being called. He looked over to where you were standing to see if hearing his name had any effect on you, but you continued to stand there and scrolled through your phone.

Just go you idiot. She’s obviously moved on, let her be.

Listening to his conscience would’ve been the smart thing to do, but Mark was never all that bright and he bought that scone specifically for you. Taking in a deep breath, he walked over to you and before he could say anything, you looked up to see the new presence that joined you in the corner and practically jumped as if you saw a ghost. Although you looked completely different, you still looked breathtakingly beautiful.

You lost some weight which was expected from how hard you’ve been working, you weren’t wearing any makeup other than what Mark knew was tinted moisturizer and when he noticed you were wearing the necklace he bought for you on your third anniversary, his heart rate increased.

“Hey.”

You continued to look up at him in shock and he couldn’t help the giggle that fell from his lips at how adorable you looked. Your eyes were widened in shock and it was as though you saw a ghost. Technically, he was considerably a ghost of your past—so seeing your blank expression did tug on his heartstrings. He might have thought that approaching you was a good idea once he first laid his eyes on you and confirmed that it was indeed you, but now he was regretting it. When he realized you weren’t going to say anything, he handed you the scone.

“I uh—I got this for you. I know how much you love your cream cheese scones.”

After taking in a couple of deep breaths, you finally allowed yourself to process what was going on and that’s when you felt a tear fall down your cheek.

“Thank you. Um—hi—sorry, I—hi. How have you been?”

Although it was you who initiated the break up, you found yourself following and keeping up with everything Got7 was doing. Specifically the man standing in front of you. Seeing him again after your last night together made you feel a whole bunch of emotions. You were excited but your heart felt as if it was about to burst out of your chest. You had no right to crave his presence, you broke his heart and decided you no longer wanted to be the lucky girl who got to love him and be loved by him.

It wasn’t that you wanted to break up with him. Breaking up with Mark was the biggest mistake you’ve ever made. He was your person. Your soulmate. Your safe haven. The man standing in front of you was all you wanted for the rest of your life. But it was all getting too much for you at one point. The long distance was getting too much for you to handle.

Then came the rumors; no matter how quick he was to shut down any rumor, it was only natural for you to grow insecure and feel as if there was something going on with him and the idols he was included in rumors with. Your mental health was worsening the longer he was away and it was affecting your job and your education. You knew that breaking up with him was a permanent decision and that there was no going back once it happened. However, all you knew and have ever known was Mark.

You always lived for him; always put him first. You needed to live without him. You needed to grow and learn to love yourself before you could continue loving him. The feeling of his finger wiping away the tear that fell made butterflies erupt in your tummy. His touch felt all too familiar yet so foreign and you wanted nothing more than for him to continue.

“I’m uh—I’m alright. What are you doing here? You look extremely beautiful by the way. Although, I always preferred your long hair, short hair looks really good on you.”

You didn’t have to see yourself to know your cheeks were probably red from his sweet words. Mark always knew exactly what to say to make you blush. Plus, it’s been a while since someone complimented you and the last time someone did, it just so happened to be the beautiful boy standing in front of you. Mark complimented you on a daily basis as if his life depended on it. He was very vocal about wanting you to know just how beautiful you are and how he thinks the entire world of you.

“Thank you. I wanted to try something new I guess. It was getting too hard to manage and Korea is extremely hot during the summer. You look great! Your hair is really long now, but I like it. I’m actually going to Vietnam for a conference. What about you?”

He gave you a knowing look as he shrugged indifferently. He didn’t want to bring it up, he was afraid of what would happen once he brought up work. The last thing he wanted was to ruin things before they could even begin to bloom.

“I have a couple of photo shoots in China and then I’m meeting BamBam in Thailand for a reality show. What time is your flight?”

There was nothing more that Mark wanted than to pull you in to his embrace but he was afraid of your reaction. It’s been so long since he last held you in his arms and he still had yet to really understand why you left, but he wanted you to come back home. He wanted you to come back to him.

No matter how many wonderful things happened to him on a daily basis, nothing else mattered to him the way you and your presence did. He couldn’t fathom in to words just how much you were a literal ray of sunshine on his many cloudy days. He was nothing without you; and he didn’t realize just how much of a positive impact you had on him until you were no longer his. You were his reason; the meaning behind his entire existence.

A life without you was one he no longer wanted to continue living. You were at the same airport at the exact same time—it had to mean something. Mark knew you like the back of his hand; being with someone for such a long time would do that to you. He could tell what you were thinking or how you were feeling just by looking at you and your mannerisms, yet looking at you right now, he had no idea what was on your mind and it worried him.

Were you also thinking that the two of you meeting in the same area after months of being apart was a sign that the two of you were meant to do so? You were a firm believer in fate, soulmates and anything that had to deal with supernatural powers. Did that mean you too felt the same way Mark was currently feeling? You had to. You lived in Los Angeles and you only ever visited Korea when you were still dating Mark.

There wasn’t a reason he could think of for you to come back. His flight could have been the day before and yours could have been set for the next week but no. You were both there; both deciding to stop by for coffee before your flights. This was no coincidence and even if it was, Mark was currently thanking whatever higher power brought the two of you to the airport that day.

He was determined to bring you back in to his life, even if it was just to be a friend. Since the break up, you practically dropped off the face of the earth. You deleted every single social media account, changed your number and you even had your mom come up with excuses as to why you no longer wanted anything to do with him. There was no way he could keep up with you, so he had no idea if you already had someone else in your life.

He wasn’t going to do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable, but he was going to do whatever he possibly could to return things back to what they were. He missed his old self; the Mark he was back when he had a purpose. Back when he had something—someone worth fighting for. Someone worth surviving for.

You. It’s always been you from the time you walked in to his life all those years ago and it’s always going to be you.

There was really no getting over you. You were the owner of his heart and he was afraid that he would be alone for the rest of his life because he was confident you were it for him. He’s been thinking about you every single day since you told him you no longer wanted to be with him anymore. How were you doing? How long have you been wanting a breakup for? When did you realize Mark wasn’t the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with? If you were suffering and missing him the way he was with you?

The two of you could have worked things out; he knew there was a lot more meaning behind your words. Deep down, Mark knew a huge part of your decision to break up with him was because of his career. The idol life was extremely rough; the guys received so much hate on a daily basis, their company treated them like shit and they didn’t get the recognition they obviously deserved.

They promised Mark many different photo shoots, deals with top fashion houses like Hermès, Chanel and Tiffany co. They also told him that he could return back to California to spend time with his family. Unfortunately, every single thing the company promised to him turned out to be a lie. Some of the other members got to experiment with acting, dancing and putting out solo albums.

However, every time Mark would bring up wanting to try out any of these activities, his company was quick to shut him down every single time. He had a gut feeling that a lot of the employees under the division that made the decisions all had it out for him and he never understood why. The older boy was one of the kindest, generous, soft spoken and gentle people not only in the company but just in general.

In fact, it was Mark’s polite personality that caught the attention of the people who scouted him over a decade ago. Honestly, the mistreatment was getting too much for him to handle. He knew he and the rest of Got7 deserved so much better. They all had so much potential to be one of the greatest groups in KPOP, but their company continued to hold them back for no reason at all. All the mistreatment they were receiving on top of losing you—it got too much for Mark to handle and at one point, he even thought about leaving Got7. He didn’t have the courage to talk to any of the members about his feelings or anyone for that matter.

Although he didn’t know the entire reasoning behind your sudden disappearance, it didn’t take a genius to know that you were fed up dating a KPOP idol. Hell, even if Mark knew you were the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, he wasn’t wholeheartedly sure that you felt that way too. For all he knew, every time you talked about your future with him, you could have said it in the moment.

Nobody knows what the future holds but God—Mark wanted nothing more than for you to end up in his. If he could, he would go back in to the past and change everything negative that went on in your relationship. The two of you hardly ever got in to arguments; there wasn’t anything for the two of you to fight about. Sure, there were a couple disagreements every now and then, but it was only ever about food or chores. If and when the two of you did argue, It was about the distance.

Got7 had gone on tour every single year since the beginning of your relationship. Their tours normally lasted for six months and unfortunately, being a full time college student with a full time job prevented you from getting to travel along with him. This meant that you only ever saw him when he was in Korea and even then, he would be at practice or in the studio.

It had to be hard on you; you were still so young and quite the romantic. It was only natural for you to want to be around your boyfriend as much as you could. Mark hated any time spent away from you. As much as he loved hanging out with Got7, if he had the choice, he’d spend all of his time with you. If only he tried harder for you—if only he fought harder to get you to stay, he’d still be coming home to you and finding solace in your arms after a long day. He wouldn’t be so torn—so broken and so depressed. You brought out the best in him; you might have been standing right in front of him, but you were so far away.

“I’m actually supposed to be heading to my gate here pretty soon. My flight is in an hour but we’ll be boarding in less than half an hour—“

“Order for y/n!”

You gave him a small smile and walked over to the counter, quickly taking your beverage and making your way back over to him. Mark could feel his heart rate rapidly beating against his chest. Did he really spend almost five years of his life with you? It felt like a fever dream? He felt like a school boy watching you—his gaze not leaving your frame once.

“Oh—cool.”

“What about you?”

“My flight isn’t for another two hours. My manager just wanted to get here early so that we wouldn’t have to worry about checking in.”

The truth was, Mark and his manager weren’t actually supposed to be there so early. In most of his trips, they would show up to the airport with only minutes to make it to their gate. Since they would always fly first class, there wasn’t too much of a wait. That’s why he knew seeing you there was more than just a mere coincidence.

You hummed in understanding and averted your gaze to the ground. Seeing your sudden change in emotion on top of your now awkward demeanor made his stomach sore. Being an idol was a once in a lifetime experience which he was extremely grateful for. He loved performing, he loved meeting fans and traveling the world with his six other best friends. But he would give everything up just to be the man you called your husband.

That’s all he ever wanted. Being an idol would never allow him that freedom whatsoever and that was one of the cons he hated the most about his career. If people were to know that he was in a relationship with you, then maybe the two of you wouldn’t have had so many arguments about the dating rumors that surrounded him.

KPOP fans could be so delusional sometimes. Whenever two idols would interact with each other or simply glance at one another, people would call them out and say that they were dating. Mark being the friendly person he was would always do things for the female idols he would work alongside. He knew that no matter how many times he would reassure you that there was nothing going on with him and a female idol, it was only human of you to grow insecure and feel as though something was up. He was very jealous and insecure whenever it came to you.

One time, you went out with a few of your friends to a bar and got plastered to the point where one of your guy friends had to take you home. Since nobody other than the members of Got7 and both his and your family members knew about your relationship, this meant that Mark had yet to meet your group of friends but he was familiar with a few of them because you would talk to him about them.

This friend however, wasn’t one that he was aware of, nor did he want to be. When he heard a buzz on his door and opened it to see your friend carrying you bridal style with your arms wrapped tightly around his neck as your face was smashed against his chest, he could feel is blood boiling and it wasn’t a good feeling.

You weren’t purposely trying to make him jealous and because you didn’t think too highly of yourself in the first place, you didn’t think Mark had any reason to be jealous. He wanted to rip you from out of your friend’s arms and hide you away—it wasn’t that he was jealous of your friend’s looks although Mark could see that he was pretty good looking. Mark wasn’t cocky, he was very humble but he was well aware he was extremely handsome. Yet, he knew that your friend could give you what Mark couldn’t.

Your friend could provide for you in ways that Mark couldn’t. Your friend could spend all of his time with you—call you and text you on an hourly basis. There were so many men that could do things for you that Mark wasn’t physically able to and it bothered him. Come to think of it, although he had no right to worry about what you did anymore, he was curious if you were in a relationship—and if you were dating that friend.

He never said anything about it once you sobered you the next day in fear of a fight breaking out, but he’s been very cautious about who you hung out with while he was away. Mark was confident in the love that you held for him. You would confess your love for him physically and verbally every single day, so cheating wasn’t even a thought on his mind. However, he was afraid of you coming to the realization that you didn’t want to continue staying in a relationship with someone you hardly ever saw.

“Nice! Oh, congratulations by the way! You finally released a solo song. I’m so proud of you! It’s amazing by the way. I had to look up the English translation since I don’t speak a word of Chinese, but it was beautiful.”

I wrote it about you.

From the day you walked out on him up until now, every single song he wrote was about you. Missing you—wishing you were still his, wanting to give up the game and fortune to be with you. The misery he was suffering; every word he wrote came straight from his heart. You actually kept up with him? You actually listened to his music? It didn’t come as a shocker; you were the definition of supportive.

If you were able to, you’d attend their concerts, you’d constantly listen to their music and you’d wear and even purchase some merchandise. Everything you did never failed to put a smile on his face. Why did he take you for granted? Whoever said the famous line you never know what you have until it’s gone was right and he hated that they were.

“Thanks. I’m glad that you enjoyed it.”

That had to be the understatement of the year. He was over the moon that you listened to it. Right as he released the song, you were the first person he wanted to hear it. You were who the song was written about, so of course he wanted you to listen to it. It made him wonder though, how did you stumble across of it? Were you just scrolling on social media and it popped up, or did you search his name—curious as to how he was doing?

What did you think about the lyrics? Did you think he wrote it about you? You had to know; you were the only girl in his life, a lot of the songs he’s written for Got7 were about you and you were aware of it. This time was no different. He had no intentions of telling you, well, at least not right now. But he was hoping you already knew without him having to confess it to you. Silence surrounded the both of you and he mentally cursed himself for not knowing what to say. Mark felt like an idiot. There were so many questions he had and so many things he wanted to tell you, but it wasn’t the time and he didn’t want to scare you away.

“I should get going. I can’t afford to miss my flight. It was nice seeing you again Mark. I hope you have a wonderful day and a safe trip. Take care.”

You gently waved at him and thanked him once more for the scone. His heart began to beg him to at least go in for a hug or to ask you to maybe start all over. It’s been so long since he last held you in his arms and it just felt so tempting. Only then did he realize where he was and there was no way he could get caught hugging someone—even more so his ex-girlfriend. Korean reporters would have a field day.

“You too. Have fun in Vietnam!”

With one last smile, you were gone and it all felt like deja vu to him. Seeing you walk away with your luggage brought back painful memories of him crying on the kitchen floor, wrapping himself around your leg—begging you to rethink your decision. He felt like such a child then, not allowing you to leave because he could tell that once you were to finally leave the apartment, that was it. This time though, it hurt him so much more.

You were back in his life even if it were only for a couple of minutes. He had hope—he prayed that seeing him again would make you realize that you missed him and that maybe at the time, the break up was something you thought would be a good idea but now you were regretting it. He dragged himself slowly back to his gate and slumped in to the chair next to his manager. If the older man thought something was wrong, he didn’t say anything and Mark was glad.

This manager was one of his favorites. He was very nice to Mark and took good care of him. However, he knew it was protocol for him to report any funny business back to the higher ups in the company. The image of you began to haunt him; he couldn’t think straight knowing you were less than a mile away from him. He started to weigh out his options; there was no way he’d allow this chance to go to waste.

It’s only been a few months; but heartbreak really does change a person. He didn’t want to suffer anymore. That’s why he found himself standing up and apologizing to his manager, stating that he’d be right back. Knowing that you were just minutes away from boarding, he practically sprinted throughout the gates—doing his best to find the flight to Vietnam. It wasn’t as if there were many gates. All Asian countries were in the same area and both China and Japan were next to his gate, so he had a hunch your gate wasn’t too far away.

“Flight 0904 to Vietnam will start boarding passengers in ten minutes. Please begin making your way to the gate.”

He swore under his breath as he was running around looking like a madman. Only you had this effect on him. At this point, he didn’t even care if someone recognized him and either took photos of him or recorded him. He needed to find you and tell you how he felt.

There was a possibility that you’d either freeze or tell him that you didn’t feel anything for him any more. In that case, there was nothing he could do about it. He’d just have to accept the truth as it was. Once he saw the word Vietnam in bold letters, he took a sharp turn and looked throughout the passengers—wanting nothing more than to finally find you. Actually, it didn’t take too long for his vision to land on you.

Mark could point you out in a crowded room. In concerts with thousands of fans in attendance, he would always find you without trouble. That’s just how love worked. He wasted no time walking towards you and immediately sank down on his knees. There were so many red flags going off in his mind, telling him to turn around and that it was too late but he refused to listen.

It took you a couple of seconds to register what was happening and you brought your gaze up to the other passengers who were waiting to board. Their expressions of shock and interest made it clear to you that no—you weren’t hallucinating. Seeing him in the coffee shop was already a lot to take in. It almost felt like you were asleep and you dreamt this entire thing but no; he was kneeling right in front of you.

“Mark, what are you—“

“I shouldn’t have let you go. Not ten minutes ago. Not five months ago. Fuck—I couldn’t just sit and pretend that it’s a coincidence that we’re both here. You know me better than anyone else y/n, I never used to believe in that fate bullshit. But that was before you became my life. I could have flew out yesterday and you could have flown out later on this evening but here we are. At the exact same airport at the exact same time. You never told me why you left—I’ve been trying to come up with reasons for myself just so I could get closure but nothing makes sense. Look—I know I was a shit boyfriend and I know you deserve someone so much better than me, but I’m selfish. All I’ve ever wanted in my life was someone who could love me the way you do—the way you did so passionately. I know I took you for granted and there aren’t enough words in the English dictionary for me to explain just how sorry I am for all that I’ve put you through. I’m sorry for not being there for you as much as I should have, I’m sorry for not giving you the love and support you’ve never failed to give me, I’m sorry for not giving you the time and attention you deserved. There’s no excuse for my actions, there really isn’t. But I just need you to know, these past few months have been an actual living hell for me. I didn’t realize how blessed I was to have you in my life until you were no longer mine. I don’t expect you to come back to me. I’m sure you were suffering in our relationship, so this is my karma. I just want you to know that I still love you, I never stopped and I don’t think I ever will. That’s what scares me the most. Damnit, I don’t even know if you’re in a relationship or not. I shouldn’t have assumed—ahhh, forget I said anything. Have a safe flight.”

You felt the need to throw up. It wasn’t a bad feeling, but it was one of those situations where you were extremely lightheaded and on the verge of passing out. Why did he think that confessing all of that was the right thing to do? Especially in the middle of an airport with dozens of eyes now staring at the both of you. It’s as though he knew exactly what he was doing putting you on the spot like that. He knew you’d give in to him seeing as though you brought attention to a growing crowd.

People enjoy watching couple’s drama and the thing was, Mark wasn’t exactly quiet while pouring out his heart to you. Then again, you knew Mark wasn’t the type to do that. He was extremely soft spoken, so with the way he was practically raising his voice at you, it was obvious he meant business.

You were hoping that nobody would recognize him—fearing that he would get in a lot of trouble if word were to get out about the two of you. His reaction amazed you though; he didn’t seem the least bit phased at the idea of both his and your photo being plastered all over newspapers.

You could see the headlines now; KPOP idol Mark Tuan causes a scene with unknown female at airport. Is this his current girlfriend? Or a former flame?

The gentle tug on your shirt is what broke you out of your thoughts. His pained expression felt like a slap to your face. He was right; you never gave him an actual reasoning for breaking up with him, but who could blame you? You were a coward. If you were to tell him of your insecurities and the fact that you were genuinely unhappy because you couldn’t even consider your relationship a legitimate one, he would have made promises on changing and making things better and you would probably have listened to him and these last couple of months would never had happened. But you were confident that nothing would change.

You weren’t stupid; Mark was both a man of words and actions and it was a trait of his that you appreciated. Yet, sometimes he made promises only to break them not too long after. A lot of the time though, it wasn’t his fault. His schedule kept him from many dates, vacations, trips to visit your family and just spending time together back at your shared apartment. You’d always feel like the odd one out; being the only person without a significant other.

Things like that never really bothered you until one of your friends pulled you to the side after dinner and asked you if you could really see yourself putting up with the current situation you were in with Mark for however long more he’d be an idol for. You should have been honest with him; he deserved to know the truth but then again, you were very good at running away from your problems.

Although her words weren’t the only reason why you ended things, they did open your eyes to the fact that if you did continue to stay with Mark, you’d lose yourself completely. Mark was your main priority. You would always put him first no matter how busy or tired you were. It was when you realize he never did the same for you that you accepted the idea of leaving him for good. Hearing him confess that he was still in love with you though, and that he was genuinely nothing without you made you feel something you haven’t quite felt since you left.

Even if you were the one who decided that you didn’t want to continue having him as your person for the time being, your romantic feelings for Mark never stopped nor did they ever waver. There were days where you missed him dearly; even if he was gone all the time, he was still your boyfriend and they two of you stayed in contact enough for you to forget about the distance even if it were just for a little while.

Sometimes, you’d find yourself typing in his number and writing a message to him, but then you’d stop yourself mid sentence, only then remembering the breakup and that you were the one who initiated it. You constantly reminded yourself that the breakup was the best decision you could make not only for you but for Mark too.

Your relationship probably held him back from so much and although he never once complained about having a significant other, you could visibly see that he was exhausted from all of his scheduled activities—having to come home, entertain you and show you affection had to add on more weight to his shoulders. You couldn’t blame him for being so tired; Got7 practiced for ten to twelve hours a day then they’d go straight in to the studio to write and record songs.

They’d also film reality tv shows and other kinds of segments, so when he’d come home—his body language would speak for him since he never seemed to have the courage to tell you that he was worn out from a long day. The idea of wanting him back was stupid since you were the one who walked away. But you missed him just as much as he claimed to miss you. You wished things could be different so that you could actually enjoy the experience of an actual relationship—yet, you would rather go months without seeing Mark, kissing him, holding him and being held by him, running to him whenever life could get too tough and being the girl that all his fans and the people who adored him could only wish to be in the place of.

You were confident that there would be no one else for you and being without him for such a long time made you accept that you no longer wanted to continue doing so anymore. You continued to sit there; not knowing what to say or do really. Your mind was drawing a complete blank. Slowly, Mark got up from off the floor and softly bowed in your direction, taking the silence as your answer. As he began to walk away, the tight grip on his wrist made him smile like an idiot to himself.

“When do you get back?” He turned around and looked at you in curiosity, but quickly grabbed his phone from out of his back pocket and flipped through his calendar faster than you’ve ever seen anyone do before.

“Two weeks. How come?”

“Can you wait for me?”

Wait, did this mean what he could only hope and dream that it meant? Were you—were you going to give him another chance? Sure, he would have preferred an explanation as to why you broke up with him and what went on in your mind for the last couple of months. But he understood that there was a time and place for such a serious topic.

He wasn’t thinking when he literally poured out his heart out to you. When the two of you were together, the entire world would disappear. Maybe that’s why he pushed away the thought of causing a scene in the middle of an airport, surrounded by at least fifty strangers. He lost all his sanity whenever it came to you and he was just so focused on trying to bring you back in to his life to even care about the consequences that would come with the news of his relationship with you.

“Of course I can—I’ll wait however long I need to for you. But, um—what am I going to be waiting for?” To his surprise yet excitement, you brought one of your hands up to his face and gently grazed his cheek. He wasted no time leaning his face in to your palm and left a soft kiss against your wrist.

“I’m yours, if you’ll have me again. I’ve missed you, more than I’m willing to admit. I won’t lie and say I made a mistake in breaking up with you. We needed this—well, I needed this. I gave my entire being; my mind, heart, body and soul to you. I did everything for you. To make you happy and by doing so, I became so depressed. I wasn’t myself anymore and I wanted to fall back in love with myself before I could continue loving you. You’re right, there’s no way us meeting up is mere coincidence. As soon as you walked up to me, I knew God brought us together. I love you Mark. I’m sorry, I know I have a lot of explaining to do but it’s going to have to wait. I love you, so much. I’ve missed you so much.”

Without hesitance or scanning the area to see whether or not the eyes were still on you, he threw himself at you and connected your lips with his. Although it’s been a while since you’ve last kissed him, your lips melded perfectly together as if the break never happened. His lips were soft and tasted like cherry chapstick and coffee.

God, how did you go so long without kissing the beautiful man in front of you? As much as you wanted to continue your little make out session, only then did it occur to you that you and Mark weren’t alone and that there was a chance someone recognized him. He whined adorably when you pulled your mouth away from his but with the knowing look you sent his way, he understood why you did so.

“Wow, I just—wow. Kissing you was always one of my favorite past times with you. Well, other than cuddling, taking naps, making love and—ow! What? I’m being honest baby. I’ve missed every single thing about you. I’m so fucking happy. This time will be different, I promise. I know how it is to live without you and let me tell you, it was actual hell on earth. Every single day felt like a month. Not hearing that contagious laugh of yours, not seeing that breathtaking smile and not having your arms around me—it fucking sucked. I should’ve fought harder to prevent you from leaving, but none of that matters anymore. You’re here now. You’re back in my life and I have no intention on ever letting you go again. I love you so much y/n, more than you’ll ever be able to fathom with that pretty head of yours.”

He pulled you in for a tight hug; placing his chin on your head and rubbing your back soothingly. The two of you stood there for a couple of minutes, it didn’t even hit you that he was there and that he was going to be yours again. Honestly, you wanted to just say fuck it and reach out to your supervisor, stating that you were unable to make it to Vietnam. Now that the two of you were rekindling your relationship, you wanted to be around him as much as you could. You trusted that he was going to keep his word and take care of you this time. He left soft kisses in your hair and began running his hands along your sides.

“Mmm—I’ve missed this.”

“Me too.” He was about to lean in for another kiss but you playfully leaned away.

“Babeeeee—“

“Mark, if anyone recognizes you—“

“I don’t give a shit. Let them. If people find out that I’m in love, then good. I want everyone to know about you. My heart has been yours for years now and it’s going to stay that way for the rest of our lives. I’d give up being an idol if it meant finally getting to settle down and start living the life we’ve always wanted. If I can’t wait too long, maybe I’ll just fly to Vietnam and we can—“

“Flight 0904 to Vietnam is now boarding. Please take out your tickets and start heading to the gate.” A soft groan fell from Mark’s lips and you took this time to steal a few kisses from him. He smiled against your lips and cheekily squeezed your waist. “Do you still have the same number?”

“Mhm, you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I never deleted it, but just like everything else about you, your number is tattooed on my heart. Have a safe flight. Text me as soon as you land. Have a great trip baby. I’ll try to call and text you as much as possible. I love you y/n. Thank you for coming back to me. See you soon.”

#got7 imagines #mark tuan #mark tuan imagines #got7 #got7 mark

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rolandtowen · 3 years

Text

Kiss It Better

Sokka builds a blanket fort. Zuko info-dumps about ADHD and chronic pain. Fluff ensues.

Read it under the cut!

"Sokka?"

A mess of brown hair and blue eyes peers out from underneath a carefully constructed cocoon of blankets. Zuko's standing in their bedroom doorway, holding Sokka's medication organizer.

"When was the last time you remember taking your meds?"

"Hmm... Thursday?" Comes Sokka's voice, muffled by the blankets.

Zuko flipped through the pill pockets. "No, looks like Tuesday."

"How bad is that? What day is today?"

Zuko sits on the edge of their bed, close enough to hold Sokka's hand but not close enough to disrupt his carefully crafted fort. "Well firstly, today is Sunday." Sokka groans and brings his free hand to his forehead. Zuko presses on, squeezing his other hand. "Secondly, taking your meds is morally neutral. Forgetting doesn't make you a bad person, it just means we need to find a routine that works better for you."

Sokka nods and Zuko can see the gears turning in his brain.

"Can I ask why you're in a blanket fort? Is it your knee?"

As a kid with ADHD, Sokka played a lot of sports: hockey, basketball, even tennis. But football is what did him in - in his senior year in high school, an unfortunate tackle tore his ACL, dislocated his left knee, and created hairline fractures in his calf bones. The Dancing Dragons won the game, but Sokka spent the rest of his senior year recovering. After almost five years, all it takes is one bad twist during a rush in the coffee shop and Sokka's down for the count.

"What gave it away?" Zuko looks up from their joined hands to see Sokka smiling at him, his bitterness at his body softened by Zuko's presence.

"Well, for one, the heating pad was mysteriously absent from our med drawer - and you're also in a blanket fort." Zuko squeezes Sokka's hand. "May I join you?"

"But of course, my love," Sokka pulls back the comforter, slapping the empty mattress beside him. "By all means, come on into Fort Chronic Pain."

Zuko laughs, settling next to his boyfriend and curling into him. "You're ridiculous."

"That's why you love me." Sokka starts combing his fingers through Zuko's long hair. "How were your classes today?"

Sokka knows that if he can get Zuko talking about school, he won't be so worried about Sokka's knee.

"Are you trying to get me to stop worrying about you? It won't work." Sokka sighs.

"Maybe, I think your med school classes are interesting."

Zuko, for all his worrying, had passed the MCAT, graduated summa cum laude, and was now studying for his M. D. at the prestigious Beifong Medical School. Sokka hadn't doubted him for a second. Zuko never gave up and never backed down. The man could grapple with the Sun and win unscathed.

"-oned?" Zuko's voice comes from below him.

"Huh?"

"I asked, 'are you zoned'?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I-"

Zuko waves him off. "What's the last thing you remember? I can start over."

"I remember asking you about classes, and you wrongfully accusing me of trying to distract you."

Zuko snorts. "My favorite class by far has been Mental Health and Physiology. I think it's highly admirable that med schools are starting to integrate mental and physical health, and not teaching them separately."

"What kind of things have you learned?"

"Like, people with anxiety may present with back pain that doesn't correlate to an injury; the excess stress can really do strange things to your muscles - and we should still holistically treat patients without just dismissing them and telling them to relax."

Sokka nods. "That makes a lot of sense, baby. You're so smart."

"Oh, shut up." Zuko can feel his cheeks warm at the compliment. "But, we also talked about ADHD and chronic pain, which I thought you might like to hear?"

"Of course, turtleduck. Amaze me." Sokka rests his hand on Zuko's hair, running his thumb across the curve of his head. "Info-dump away."

Zuko takes a deep breath in. "Okay, so, there are significant studies that show that people with ADHD experience chronic pain at a higher level than the average population - there are a few theories as to why this might be. Many people with ADHD experience hypertonia, or muscle overactivity. This can make it really difficult to fully relax tense muscles, and increases chance of injury. Additionally, low dopamine is considered to be one of the causes of ADHD, and dopamine regulates chronic pain signals. Most of the research has only been done in the last decade, so it's going to be really exciting to see what new treatments develop - previously, dopamine wasn't really known to be connected to pain regulation at all." Zuko turns to look up at Sokka. "You never know, there might be an effective treatment for your leg in the next decade."

Sokka wants to be hopeful, he does, but he's been trying to treat his chronic pain for five years, and he's had limited success. Going to a chiropractor helped a little, the physical therapist gave him some great exercises for strengthening the tendons supporting his knee, and cutting back on inflammatory foods lessened the pain level whenever he entered a flare - but he still got flares. A hike could knock him off his feet for weeks; a rainy day could be agonizing. He just wishes there was a simple solution - but as much as homeopathic Karens in the coffee shop try to convince him, there's no one-step solution. No, Janet, as good as your essential oil blend smells, it isn't going to take the place of physical therapy, preventative care, and lifestyle changes. Just like for his ADHD. It takes dedication to a process of self-care to make improvement in either arena.

And if the off-schedule pill organizer in Zuko's hands is any indication, dedication to a process can feel fucking impossible with ADHD.

"Can I do anything to help?" Sokka looks down to see Zuko's amber eyes staring up at him, offering comfort no blanket fort could provide.

"Can you..."

"Yeah?"

Sokka swallows. "Could you, maybe... kiss it better?"

Zuko's eyes practically sing his answer: "Of course I can."

Zuko gingerly moves the heating pad from its spot on Sokka's left knee. He tips his head down, pressing a featherlight kiss to Sokka's kneecap. He murmurs something under his breath.

"Sorry, what was that?"

Zuko looks at him sheepishly. "I said, 'the patella'.

Sokka can't hold back the laughter that bubbles out of his chest. "You're using me for anatomy study?"

"Seems like a fair trade. You get kisses and I get to study at the same time." Zuko drops another kiss to Sokka's knee. "Both the elbows and the knees are constructed with hinge joints." Zuko presses a firmer kiss to Sokka's thigh. "This is the femur, the thighbone - the longest and strongest bone in your body."

Sokka opens his mouth to make a joke, but Zuko beats him to it: "If you make a joke about your dick, I'm donating you to my cadaver class." Sokka's jaw snaps shut.

Zuko drops another two kisses on either side of Sokka's calf. "Tibia and fibula," he whispers. "These are the ones you broke senior year."

"Only hairline fractures," Sokka corrects.

"Can you still feel it?"

Sokka shakes his head. "It's the ACL that still bothers me the most."

"Do you want some lidocaine?"

"Spirits, yes."

Zuko rummages through their nightstand, pulling the blessed tub of Icy Hot out of the top drawer, and spreading a thin layer over Sokka's knee. He traces soft patterns into his knee as they wait for the lidocaine to kick in.

"If you say 'patella' again, I'm going to smack you." Sokka eyes him from where he's leaning against the headboard.

"Of course not," Zuko takes Sokka's right hand into his and presses a kiss to the back of it. "Metacarpals."

"You fucker-"

"Don't get riled up and undo all my hard work." Zuko massages the palm of Sokka's hand. "Is the leg better?"

"Much better."

"So we still have the original problem."

"The meds?"

Zuko nods. "So I know you've been trying to take them as soon as you wake up..."

"But?"

"I think you should task-stack it," Zuko says, running his thumb absent-mindedly over Sokka's knee. "You should pair with something you do everyday."

"Like what?"

"You make yourself a wicked pour-over every morning. What if you kept your meds by the kettle and then took them while you waited for the water to get hot?"

Sokka face pauses, processing. "Huh."

"Would... would that work?"

Sokka smiles, beaming at him. "That's a brilliant idea, turtleduck." He opens his arms up, patting the space underneath him. "Come up here?"

"If you insist," Zuko quips. "Do you want me to make fried rice tonight? I can even bring it to you if you want."

"You're literally the light of my life."

Zuko laughs. "I'll take that to heart." He snuggles up under Sokka's chin. "Do you feel better?"

"So much better." Sokka pushes back Zuko's hair from his face and presses a soft kiss to his forehead. "Thanks to you."

"Frontal bone," Zuko murmurs.

"Seriously?!"

Zuko cackles.

#mine #zuko #atla #sokka #rolandtowen #zukka #avatar #avatar: tla #autistic zuko #sokka has adhd #med school au #neurodiverse zukka #neurodivergent zukka #neurodiverse au #tw: medication #tw: medical

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solastia · 3 years

Text

Love And Lies | 3

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x F!Reader

Summary: You are a simple maid. When your lady and dearest friend need help escaping an arranged marriage with King Seokjin so they might be together, you do the only thing you can - take her place.

You followed behind the man who introduced himself as Chancellor Namjoon Kim, listening to him halfheartedly as he explained that while that was his official title, he was more of a Jack-of-all-trades and preferred calling himself the King's right-hand man.

You smooth your hands down your gown, hoping it was grand enough to disguise the commoner wearing it. You’d changed for supper, something that Eleanor had told you was common for people at court. According to her, depending on the person they might even change outfits as many as three or four times a day! The nobility were a ridiculous bunch, you sniffed derisively to yourself. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for the maids that had to care for all that clothing and the laundresses that cleaned them. Two times a day - not counting your sleeping gown - was extravagant enough for the likes of you.

The ensemble that you had now made you feel like a fairy princess of legend. You were a shimmering cloud of pink and white as you glided along the stone floors. The dress was pink velvet lined with white silk, along with white ermine fur on the edges of the sleeves and bottom of the gown. The bust was embroidered with silver thread and decorated with glistening pearls. You were also very happy to note that the top was much more modest this time around, though not by much. Eleanor had let you pick the jewelry yourself, so you’d settled on a simple strand of pearls around your neck and tiny pearl earbobs. Your hair was left loose and free of any painful and tedious styling with the hot iron.

Truthfully, you rather liked this dress. The fabric was soft to the touch and very comfortable. You even liked the little slippers that matched. When you asked Eleanor why she was letting you wear something like this, she had told you that your previous ensemble had been to impress the King, and this one was to appeal to the man. It was an odd statement considering that your goal was to not appeal to him, and she’d seem rather conflicted saying such a thing. You wished you’d had the time to question her further, but the Chancellor had shown up before you could.

In the end, it wouldn’t matter if you looked rather pretty in your outfit because you knew that eventually, he’d move on to the other women. You had literally nothing of interest about you to keep royalty interested. After all, what could you speak to him about beyond stain removal techniques and how to haggle for the best prices at the market?

Chancellor Namjoon opens a door and ushers you inside, seeming to not notice or mind that you hadn’t even been listening to him talk this entire time.

“His Majesty will be with you in a moment.”

He nods and leaves briskly, closing the door behind him. You take the chance to look around, your mouth falling in awe as you take in the rows and rows of scrolls. So this was a library! You had heard of such things but had simply chalked it up to the fancies of nobles, but this was truly amazing. Beyond the scrolls, there were even parchment tied together filled with writing and little sketches. A few were even covered in decorated leather, something that boggled your mind. Books! You had never thought to see one in your life.

You adored the family you worked for, of course, but not a single one of them had any use for reading and writing. Eleanor could write a little, mostly her name and a list of things she needed that looked like badly designed inkblots. Jungkook was a little better but mostly relied on drawing things out. You remembered the departed Duchess had a slanting script that was like beautiful art to your young eyes. She’d taught you how to read and write before she’d passed, but you rarely got a chance to use that knowledge. You never had anyone to write to and the Duke saw no use for books.

Your hand trailed reverently across the hard leather of one of the bound pages, wishing you had the freedom to peer inside.

“Do you like to read?”

The voice startled you, and you gasped and turned with your hand on your chest.

“Goodness. I’m...sorry, Your Majesty.”

His smile was kind, but his eyes looked like he was laughing at you. “It’s quite alright. So, do you?”

“Hmm?” You hummed softly, distracted by the way his now silver tunic made him glow like an otherworldly being. “Oh, read?” You smile sheepishly, forcing yourself to focus on the conversation and not on his lips. “I don’t get to very often, but I like stories.”

He seemed pleased with your answer, gesturing towards the book. “We got this one from a visiting Monarch years ago. Livres des merveilles du monde. It’s about a merchant named Marco Polo who was an adventurer for a while and traveled through the Orient. I was certain I was going to grow up and conquer the world someday when I first read this.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Ah, the bane of my existence. Responsibilities,” he says dramatically, obviously trying to make you smile. “You may borrow it if you like. I’m not certain if it will be riveting enough for you, but you’re welcome to it. Or anything else here, during your stay.”

He picked up the book and handed it to you, his grin growing as he watched you cup it in your hands and stare at it in awe. A whole book!

You smile up at him genuinely for the first time, your smile wide and beaming with joy. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I’m not certain I’ll have time to finish it since I read so very slowly, but I thank you for the chance.”

He nods, his cheeks pinkened slightly. He gestures with a hand towards a table in the corner.

“I have some warm wine and honey pastries if you’d like to join me. I thought we might have a chance to get to know each other a little more before we have the pressure of an entire room watching our every move.”

“Oh...yes, that will be...tense” you gulp and sit as gracefully as you can in the highbacked wooden chair.

His smile is soft and kind as he pours you a drink. “I suppose despite your status you’re not quite used to court life. Your father mentioned you preferred staying home.”

“Yes,” you stuttered nervously. “I found I was more comfortable tutoring at home rather than being fostered out. I’m afraid the one time I tried, I found the group of ladies rather spiteful and begged Papa to come home after only three months.”

Which was a true story. Eleanor had been sent to the Duchesse Aline Villeneuve - the King’s very own aunt - to learn how to run a keep and other “women’s arts” not long after her mother had passed away from a sudden illness. According to Eleanor, she had been horribly bullied by the other ladies in the Duchesse’s care and she “hadn’t cared to make friends with such vain and heartless wenches, anyhow.”

Personally, you had rather fond memories of that summer, as with Eleanor away you’d had the freedom to do as you pleased and you’d even made a new friend for a few months - a village boy with the most annoying laugh you’d ever heard but had been sweet and fun. The two of you had been inseparable for the entire summer until one day he didn’t show up to the stream you often met at. You still thought of that boy from time to time and hoped he was doing well. You never did learn where he disappeared to.

King Seokjin nods in understanding. “Unfortunately, it’s not going to be much better here. Gossip is practically a form of currency, and whether it’s true or not doesn’t matter,” he rolls his eyes and sits back in his chair, bringing up a mug of steaming spiced wine to his lips. He gulps and sighs, setting the cup back on the table.

“And in your case, it will be twice as bad as you are...well…” he coughs lightly, his cheeks blushing once more. “A high contender to be Queen?”

You sputter on the drink of wine you’d just taken, trying to hastily wipe any spilled droplets before he sees them.

“Yes...err, I am...that.”

“So,” he says loudly, slapping his hands onto his thighs. “I mostly wanted to set aside some time right now so you can tell me things you like to do. I’m afraid I have to live my entire life by a set schedule, so if I had some ideas for my courting days with you that would help greatly.” “Oh,” you smile mischievously, “Yes, I imagine it must be difficult trying to balance so many suitors. Romantic sailing on Monday, serenading on Tuesday, kissing in a dark alcove on Wednesday...”

“You have no idea, “ he groans, only to still and gape at you in astonishment. “You’re making fun of me!”

“I would never, Your Majesty,” you drop your eyes to your lap, still smiling despite the way you were internally smacking yourself. This wasn’t home, you had to curb your tongue.

He squints at you suspiciously. “I have a feeling you would and will. You have some spirit hiding under that demure stance, don’t you Lady Eleanor?” He cocks his head and looks at you with an expression of pleased wonder.

“Perhaps, Your Majesty.”

“I think,” he begins softly, his tone making you lift your eyes to meet his. “In private settings like this, you may use my first name.”

Your eyes widen incredulously. “Oh, I couldn’t!”

“I can order you to if I must,” his smile is playful, even while his eyes are staring at you intensely.

“I...alright. Thank you...Seokjin,” you respond quietly and no doubt with crimson cheeks.

“There. That wasn’t so hard. And...I liked hearing it.”

He stands up and offers you his hand. “It’s time to head to supper. I can escort you as far as to the hall, but I have to go to the high table without anyone seeing you with me. Don’t want them to see you entering the dining hall on the King’s arm; that would make you a target for the harpies,” he winks, linking your arm in his. “You can send a list of activities we can do together later.”

The walk down the hall is too short, but you’d enjoyed the feeling of his strong arm encasing yours and the occasional sneaky peeks of his beautiful side profile. He releases you as soon as the noisy dining hall is close enough to hear.

“I must leave you here, but I look forward to speaking with you on the morrow. I’ll have someone bring the book to your room tonight.”

“Thank you, Your M…” you begin, only for him to raise an eyebrow at you daringly. You glance around you for eavesdropping servants and sigh. “Thank you, Seokjin.”

His beaming smile is worth your embarrassment. “Well done, lambkin. Be sure to try the custard tarts, they are the best!”

He waves and strides off, leaving you to find the waiting Jungkook and be escorted to your seat. Something pricked at the back of your mind, however. Lambkin? Why did that seem so familiar? Perhaps you were just overwhelmed. You shake your head and focus on the elegant supper in front of you as you find Jungkook waiting just inside the door, and he gestures for you to walk ahead of him. You can tell from the way his jaw is clenched he’s dying to ask you about the meeting, but there is no way to subtly speak to him at the moment.

The dining hall was brimming with people and you praised Eleanor for being the sort of noble who kept to herself, since the chances of anyone knowing her here were incredibly low. Your seat is incredibly close to the high table - in fact, it was directly above you. A few more steps to your right and His Majesty would be getting crumbs and wine on your head.

You’re not brave enough to look at him yet, though, and decide to look around for your “competition.”

Your table seems to be where they are all located, judging by the way most of the women gathered around you meet your curious gaze with measuring looks of their own. Most of them turn away after a few seconds, obviously dismissing you as not a threat.

One girl that looks similar to Eleanor all the way down to her bouncing curls grins at you playfully and waves at you with the chicken leg in her hand. You nod in answer, adding a slight smile as you decided she seemed nice enough.

A regal brunette meets your eyes with a quirk of her eyebrow, blatantly looking you up and down. Her lips thin and she pointedly turns away with a sneer, clutching her silverware almost threateningly. Alright, she will not be someone you want to know.

Directly across from you is a redhead and you snort, coming to the realization that His Majesty literally has every color of the rainbow to pick from for his bride. Variety is the spice of life, you suppose. This woman seems very disinterested in everything around her, however, focusing on her meal and only interacting with servants to refill her goblet.

At the head of the table and directly at your elbow is the one that you can only assume is the Princess. She is incredibly pretty, you have to admit. Her dark black hair is mostly loose and cascading about her in waves. The sides have been pulled back and secured with a large golden hairpin the size of a dagger with little jeweled flowers adorning it. Her dress is strange yet beautiful. Silk or satin, if you had to guess. The top was lavender and embroidered with flowers and some sort of serpent that vaguely looked like a dragon. The bottom was nearly peach-colored and consisted of the same decorations. Her features were sharp and sculpted, with high cheekbones and a thin nose. She looked exotic and lovely, but it wasn’t until her smile blinded you that you realized she was beautiful. She met your eyes with a twinkle in hers, reaching her delicate hand up to point at herself.

“I am Hosook. You?”

“I am Lady Eleanor Rose D’Aily, Your Highness,” you answer slowly, assuming that the way she was squinting while you spoke was her concentrating on your words. Perhaps she was learning the language still.

“You for him too?” she asked with a wave behind her at the high table.

“Yes, I was brought here for the King. I’m sure you’re a much better choice.”

The Princess smiles her understanding and waves away your compliment. “Too...ugg,” she grunts, obviously failing to find the word she wanted. She chose instead to flap in the general direction of King Seokjin like she was shooing away a fly.

“You...aren’t attracted to His Majesty?” you ask in a hushed voice. How could anyone not find him the most beautiful being to ever walk this earth?

She sticks out her tongue, “Reminds me of Haraboji...uh...Grandfather?”

You sputter a laugh which you know is too loud, but you can’t help yourself as Princess Hosook giggles with you. You feel yourself being watched and glance up to lock eyes with the very man in question. The King looks down at you curiously, his lips tilted in an amused smile as you can’t stop your giggles. Suddenly, he winks at you and you look away quickly as your laughter dies down into a shy smile.

“Oh,” Princess Hosook says slyly, clucking and patting your hand with a grin. “I see now. You nice, make pretty Queen.”

“Goodness, it’s not like that at all. We just met,” you rush to explain, your excuses being waved away yet again.

“I like…” she waves between the King and you. “Nice together. Uh...need more words,” she grumbles quietly, biting her lip.

“I could help, if you like? I helped my Lad...err...my Ladies Maid learn how to read and write.”

Her smile was beaming as she nodded her head in agreement. “Yes. Need be better to deal with them,” she nods her head towards the gaggle of noblewomen surrounding them.

“I understand. I have to wait to hear which days I need to spend with the King, and then we’ll set aside some time for us!” You smile kindly at the Princess, who grins back and attends her meal with much more gusto now that she had something to look forward to. You sigh and quietly thank the powers that be for making some sort of friend to get you through this, and one that you were able to fall back into your natural state of submission with. It would be easier to explain any lapses in your behavior if you were just a mere Duke’s daughter shadowing a Princess, rather than being with the other women who were basically your equals and expected you to be just as much of a spoiled prat as they were.

The meal comes to a close (and you were amazed that you only caught yourself staring at His Majesty less than five times), and Jungkook is back at your elbow to escort you to your rooms. As you accept his helping hand, you feel someone tap on your shoulder. Princess Hosook flicks her eyes up and down Jungkook with an exaggerated waggled of her eyebrows. Her hand goes to her chest and she mouths something that you assume is complimentary. Jungkook’s eyes are huge as he tries to follow what’s happening.

You giggle and slap his arm. “She thinks you’re handsome.”

“TAKEN…” he squeaks, “I’m taken. Sorry..uh...lady...majesty…”

“Always pretty ones,” Princess Hosook sighs and waves goodbye with fluttering fingers, disappearing with her own small army of attendants.

You continue to laugh quietly as Jungkook begs you to stop. You pause just before leaving the hall and catch the King’s eye right before he leaves for his own apartments. He smiles and shallowly bows, and you watch him until his broad shoulders disappear from sight.

“Sis,” Jungkook mutters quietly as he herds you back to your hallway. “You can’t…” he sighs. “I’m sure you think he’s handsome and he seems to be nice to you, but you can’t be with him. You remember that, right? You’re not who he thinks you are and he’d find that out if you were to marry him. I am literally stealing a potential bride from him, and the moment he finds out, he can kill us all.”

“I know, Jungkook. I’m not an imbecile.”

“I know that, but you’ve never been courted before. I forgot about that and now I’m worried that you’re over your head.”

You sigh and loop your arm in his as you walk. “I suppose I forgot that he’d be trying to win me over as much as the rest, at least at first. I might have let the sweet words and smiles affect me, but I promise Jungkook, I’ll remember. Besides, I saw the other potential brides. I am no match for them. The novelty of someone new will fade in a few days, and I pray that we have the deed to the keep no later than a month. Then, I will tell him that I don’t think I’m a good match for the Kingdom and we can be on our merry way.”

He sighs wearily and tugs you close for a quick hug. “I know, I trust you and your judgment, I just got worried. If he does anything that makes you uncomfortable or makes you feel compromised, let me know. I don’t care if he’s the king, I’ll throw down my glove.”

“You’ll not duel the King, Jungkook. Go seek your bed, brother dear,” you say with a tiny smile, pushing him away from you once you reach your room. “Tell Eleanor when she comes back from the kitchens she can go straight to her room. I won’t bother her tonight because I’m so exhausted from all this excitement I’m going to fall asleep the moment my head hits the mattress.”

Jungkook grins, a look you really don’t want to identity lighting his eyes. “Will do. Sweet dreams, sis.” He stomps off and leaves you to close the door to your opulent apartments.

You yawn and observe the room as you undress, leaving the layers of clothing across a chair to be taken care of the next day. The room was spacious and absolutely gorgeous, decorated in lovely shades of robin’s egg blue, white, and gold. There was an entire room just for clothing, one for washing, and yet another whole room for your ladies maid - something that Eleanor had seemed suspiciously excited about. You worried that she was going to try yet again to seduce her love now that she had a new sort of freedom without her father about.

You crawl onto the giant golden bed and arrange the blankets over you as you fight off another yawn. A full belly and an overwhelming day full of excitement seemed to be all your poor body could handle. Another yawn and you drift off to sleep, visions of warm brown eyes and smiling lips filling your dreams.

A/N:

1. Yes, that is Hoseok. He’s a pretty princess today.

2. I don’t really like using the term “exotic” but since this is a historical and being done from the viewpoint of a person in the middle ages, it seemed fitting.

3. Oh, look at that totally huge and obvious hint to the past. Hmmm....

#bts #bts fanfic #bts scenario #kim seokin #seokjin #jin #seokjin scenario #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #king seokjin #historical romance #solastia #love and lies #jin scenario #bts x reader

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nitannichionne · 3 years

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If He Was YOUR Fan Chapter 28: Good News, Bad News (A Henry Cavill Fan Fic)

CHAPTER 28: Good News, Bad News

You awaken abruptly, your body sucking air in panic from the memories of earlier that night. You feel your hand being held and see Henry there. You try to sit up.

“Easy, easy.” Henry looks over his shoulder as he stands up. “Doctor, she’s awake!”

You look around to see you are in an infirmary. “What?”

“Hold on, darling,” he says as Dr. Stevens, the head of the movie medical team, starts examining you. You flinch as your thigh is touched. and it starts coming back to you. You had an allergic reaction. You are breathing normally, but you are tired. And, you’ve started your period.

“Gave us all a scare, there,” Dr. Stevens nodded, shining a light in your eyes.

“Sorry.”

“Be glad that Henry had training,” Dr. Stevens said, unwrapping a tongue depressor. “Ah.”

“Ahhhhh.” You hate those things. They don’t seem happy till you gag, and true to form you do.

“Henry knew exactly what to do when you had your reaction,” Dr. Stevens said, taking your pulse. “Might have saved your life.”

You look at Henry, but he doesn’t look happy. He looks worried. “I feel much better. May I go?”

“You had a late reaction.”

“Two?”

“I’m afraid so,” Dr. Stevens nodded. “and it caused the…” he looks at Henry. “may we talk?”

“He can stay,” you say with an uneasy smile.

Dr. Stevens blinks at Henry, then at you. “Oh…I see.” He goes to the door and closes it and gestures Henry closer. “We took blood from you.”

“And?”

He glances at you both, then focuses on you. “You were pregnant.”

You blink, swallowing hard. You glance at Henry, who looks surprised, then saddened. “Were?”

“It was in very early stages,” Dr. Stevens explains. “I know I told you to come back in two weeks, but when this happened I decided to test today just in case.” He purposely didn’t look at Henry, whose eyes now glistened. “Your reactions triggered it. I’m sorry, there wasn’t anything we could do…”

Dr. Steven’s voice becomes mumbled as he goes on. You watch Henry talk to him and you just feel like you are behind a glass, unable to hear, and in your own world. There was a…a baby. And…it’s gone, just like that. Your period isn’t a period. It’s a miscarriage. You begin to tremble. You fight tears. You don’t know how you feel. You look at Henry, catching his eye.

“I’d like to take her home,” Henry nods, his look solemn. “Is that alright?”

“It’s been four hours,” Dr. Stevens nods. “She had her second reaction, so I think she’ll be alright. She needs to rest a couple of days. I will give you some literature with signs to look for if she has more reactions or bleeds excessively.” He gives a card. “This is my number. I will come straight away if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

“When can I go back to work?” you ask, earning a look of surprise from Henry.

“If you feel up to it, I’d say Tuesday.” Dr. Steven says. “Of course, I’d like to see you Monday before you do.”

“Alright,” you agree, starting to sit up. You feel like shit, but you want your own bed. You want something normal. The last few hours have not been that.

“You can stay here—”

“No, I want to go home.” You look at Henry pleadingly.

“I’ll look after her,” Henry assures.

Dr. Stevens gave some medicine for pain, a small stack of sheets, and once again, a card that Henry put in his phone and you are on your way.

“My place or yours?”

You look at him. “What?”

“My place or yours?” He repeats. “I’m not leaving you alone, you know that.”

You sit. You want to be alone, all of sudden. You want a minute to deal with everything.

“Okay.”

“What?”

“Your place it is,” he nods.

He drives to his house, and is in and out in five minutes, toting a gym bag and a shopping bag. He throws the stuff in the back seat next to Kal and slides back in. Then you head to your shoebox of an apartment. You look in the back seat, and watch Kal sniff at the shopping bag.

“No, Kal.”

You realize Kal’s food and snacks are in that bag. He is staying for the weekend, and for some reason, you don’t know how you feel about that. How can you be of two minds all of a sudden?

“It’s kind of late, so we’ll just…go to sleep, alright?”

You get home and see signs predawn. It must be two or three in the morning, but you don’t care enough to look at your watch. You start to move up the steps and hear a kitten cry. “Oh, no. Wait!”

“What?”

“Delilah had her kittens!” you say quickly. “She must have brought them here!” You move toward the noise. “But why am I hearing one?”

“I’m sure she’ll take care of it,” Henry assured.

You follow the noise and find Delilah as you’d hoped-in a plastic box you cut a hole in. You sigh with relief, but then see one kitten off to the side. “Oh, no.”

“What?”

“It’s…it’s not moving.”

Henry sighs. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. It happens, some aren’t strong enough—sweetheart?”

You crouch down, and look at the kitten, terribly small. It doesn’t even look like it’s breathing. You count four others who are asleep against her and nursing. You push the kitten gently toward her, but the kitten barely moves. Delilah looks at you and then lays down.

“There’s not much you can do.”

“Yes, there is.” You reach inside. “I’ll take her, Delilah.”

“What?”

You ignore Henry and head up the steps. “Not much time.” You open the door and scurry to the kitchen. “I can’t believe I was ready for this.”

“What?”

You ignore Henry’s look of surprise as you get a small soft towel and start rubbing the small ball of fur. “Henry, there’s a syringe and bottle in that drawer. Get the cat milk out.”

His eyes go wide. “Cat milk?!”

“God, man, just do it.” You roll your eyes as you sit on the couch. You are suddenly glad you invested in a towel warmer for the bathroom. “Come on, girl,” you whisper, rubbing the kitten up and down its back. “Please.”

You watch Henry read the directions and put the formula together. “Were you studying to be a vet, love?”

“When I was a kid, I was bullied,” you shrug. “I befriended neighborhood pets and strays because my mom wouldn’t let me have a pet. She said I wasn’t ready. I spent a whole summer, reading up on dogs and cats. A neighbor had a cat who had kittens. The mother rejected the runt. I asked if I could have her, begged my mom. She agreed. I nursed the kitten with skim milk and a few drops of pet milk. I ran back and forth, feeding it on schedule.”

“Did it make it?” he sits next to you and the kitten gives a weak cry. “Oh, my God.”

“Yes, Fifi made it,” you smile gently. “She lived a full life, too.” You put your hand out, and he hands you the bottle and syringe. “See, sometimes, life just needs a hand.” You swallow hard, tears coming to your eyes. “This is going to be interesting.”

“What—”

“This kitten has to be fed every four hours,” you say, looking down at her. “She has to have her belly rubbed to help her go to the bathroom, too.” You start feeding the kitten who nurses on the bottle weakly, but does. You keep rubbing her. “Here.”

“What?”

“Just hold the syringe push gently, she’ll do the rest.”

You change clothes and get into one of Henry’s t-shirts. He chuckles at you, and you stick your tongue out at him and sigh as he undresses. You face each other as he continues feeding the kitten laying in the dark. “Why?”

Thanks for your patience and support, readers! Next one coming right up!

@mistress-of-ward @nuggsmum @messyinsomniacbookgirl @jencanbeyouryengeralt @sweetdreamsofgelato @maryann84 @omgkatinka @the-soot-sprite @viking-raider @keanureevesisbae @henryobsessed @summersong69 @kinbhot4henners @sunshine96love @michelehansel @radofrivia @thelastsock @michelehansel @tumblnewby @henryobsessed @defffcc @tenaciousneckpartypainter @rn7rocksn @mrskikkirazz @daydreamin83 @ruthoakenshield @musicartmayheminmyheart @michelehansel @tumblnewby @henryobsessed @defffcc @tenaciousneckpartypainter @rn7rocksn @mrskikkirazz @daydreamin83 @ruthoakenshield @musicartmayheminmyheart @mis-lil-red @kaatelyynn @forallthebrokenheartedthings @alphacancrii @liquorlaughslove @designerewriterchic @sofiebstar @tamychm @nikkilynn303 @circesgirl @aaescritora @xoxohannahlee

#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fan fic #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #geralt #superman #henry cavill smut

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imyourliquor-youremypoison · 5 years

Text

Anniversaire (Klaus x Reader)

Anniversaire (noun; French) /a.ni.vɛʁ.sɛʁ/

Someone’s date of birth. (ex: Happy birthday!)

A date that celebrates a meaningful event. (ex: It was their tenth anniversary.)

Synopsis: Post TUA No Apocalypse!AU in which Y/N is Klaus’ childhood best friend. Even when he lived far away from the Academy, he always took time out of his doubtlessly busy schedule to celebrate her birthday. It’s their tradition.

Word count: 11,3k (May I suggest you settle somewhere comfortable?)

A/N: As always, there’s some slight physical description for the third person reader, because it was written with an OC in mind. Either ignore or enjoy.

MASTERLIST

“My birthday party,” she grumbled and reaffirmed her grip on his arm. “Birthday, my ass! This rather looks like your party,” she accused a very much inebriated Klaus slouched against her.

She wasn't frail but Klaus was tall and not exactly a lightweight either. The walk was a slow and tedious one for (Y/N), who had to drag along her friend's heavy, useless carcass out the back door of a clandestine underground club. Trust Klaus to know the existence of this place.

Klaus' half conscious mind tried to force his feet to move and help (Y/N) in her endeavor, but they weren't very synchronized, if at all, with her steps. He mumbled something against her shoulder and (Y/N) acknowledged him with a hum but did not answer. What was there to answer to an incoherent mumble anyway?

He could feel the alcohol course in his veins and still felt hot all over from the stifling, humid air of the club where he had dragged his best friend for her birthday. After twenty-two years of knowing each other, he was starting to run short of ideas. It was easier making shenanigans when they were kids, they could get away with a lot more than now. Hell, he was lucky (Y/N) was always up for whatever foolish, crazy plans he came up with; she never shot him down for being too childish or silly.

He suspected she sometimes only agreed to make him happy; Klaus didn't have a lot of people in his life who put his happiness before their own, especially on their birthday. His (Y/N) was something else.

(Y/N) wasn't really into big celebrations but they usually did something with just the two of them. Stuffed their faces with Agnes' donuts, booby-trapped Diego's entire bedroom, tried to sneak into the sacra-saint office of his now dead father, or – now that they were adults - just sat at a bar and pretended nothing else existed for one evening. Not his powers, not other people around them, not all of this constant noise.

They had met in rather unusual circumstances as children, and were quite inseparable since then. Klaus, of course, did not stay at the mansion much longer than he needed to, especially not with his abusive father looming over his shoulder all the time. (Y/N) did not enjoy watching him turn to drugs to drown out the white noise and to escape his reality, nor did she like hearing he had skipped town from one day to the next.

She would have liked a goodbye.

But he always came back and that's all that mattered. Of course there were the occasional surprise visits whenever he was close-by and felt like saying hell, but more importantly, he came back for a very specific occasion. For her birthday, every year for the last ten years, he had shown up at her doorstep bright and early, somewhat sober, and told her to get ready, chop-chop, because he had planned the whole day for them. It usually turned into a long week-end - whether or not her birthday was on a week day did not matter at all to him - and (Y/N) learned to take sick leave for a couple days after the first two years.

How long would it take for her boss to figure out that she was “sick” every year at the same date? Time will tell.

This year's celebrating wasn't particularly inspired as he had only meant to bring her to a club and dance the night away. At the beginning, she had indulged him, because his father's death anniversary – and the family reunion that goes with it - had taken place only a week before and he had struggled to push through without turning back to drugs, so his mind must have been elsewhere. However, (Y/N) could not keep up with his drinking, and she soon realized she might have to be the one who stuck to water in order to make sure the other one would go home safely.

There was no doubt in her mind that Klaus had been in worse predicaments than simply being drunk at a club and unable to go home – she knew for a fact that he had slept in back alleys before and wasn't afraid to do it again. During Sir Reginald Hargreeves' lifetime, any place was better than the damn academy. Then again, (Y/N) wasn't as adventurous as Klaus, and a soft mattress was a must to end the night.

When she reached the corner of the street, (Y/N) was sweaty and felt damp all over. They both smelled like the bottom of a tequila bottle, but she hoped someone would still let them climb into their car. She hailed a cab, with Klaus still leaning on her like the passed out idiot he was, and the man in the driver's seat shot them a nasty look, but she smiled kindly and he reluctantly nodded.

Thank the fuck. She wouldn't have been able to haul his ass all the way back to the academy and she did not want to try sleeping in a trashcan. The ride was silent except for Klaus' barely audible mumbling in her ear and snuggling against her like she was his favorite pillow.

“Happy 28th birthday to me,” she grumbled and rolled her eyes when he began to snore loudly, his hair tickling her cheek.

Ben sat riding shotgun, smiling to himself while he watched them in the rear view mirror. She couldn't see or hear him, though she was aware of him following Klaus around pretty much all the time.

“Happy birthday (Y/N),” he said, and disappeared. He wasn't needed tonight, Klaus was taken care of.

Why was that house so damn big? There had only been the ten of them who lived here, so what were all 42 bedrooms for? Why did she have to drag Klaus' limp body through an unnecessarily big house? And why on earth was his room all the way to the back? He was just lucky she could navigate through the many corridors and didn't get lost thrice before finally seeing the door to his bedroom.

“You are so damn heavy, you know that?” she asked him, if only to make conversation for herself.

Unexpectedly, he answered, “Hey! I can hear you! 'm not fat.”

“Must be the weight of your idiocy then.” She shook her head and kicked open the door, nearly losing balance and falling over, Klaus and all. She could have blamed it on her short stature, but elected to blame Klaus' tall figure instead. “And for heaven's sake stop leaning on me you jerk, or I'll drop you right there.”

He did somewhat relieve her of some of his weight but she was still navigating them both through the mess on his floor. Why did he have to live in this garbage?

“I don't feel so well,” he admitted, his head hanging on her shoulder.

“That's what you get for charming almost everyone in this club into buying you a drink,” she huffed with a laugh.

She couldn't remember how the topic first came up but she bet Klaus that he wouldn't be able to seduce a really hot girl into paying for his drink. He wasn't one to back out of a challenge, especially if a free drink was on the line, and he did get the drink, much to (Y/N)'s bafflement. He didn't stop there though, and serial-flirted with every single soul who dared come near him until he was too drunk to even dance anymore.

So this was really all his fault if you thought about it, because (Y/N) only challenged him to win one free drink, not ten.

“But I feel really awful,” he insisted, nudging her a little to make her pay attention.

“I bet you do. Also, eww, your breath smell like death, man!” She scrunched up her nose and waved her hand before her face to dissipate the smell. “We can't put you to bed like this. Bathroom first.”

“Why is the room moving?” Klaus slurred out the question just when (Y/N) opened the door to the bathroom across from his room.

Hadn't she carried him around for a lifetime already? That was that for her weekly exercise, no need to go to the gym this Tuesday. The bathroom was cold and dark. She was always taken aback by how uninviting this manor was. It was so richly ornate, so vast and in-your-face that one would think the rooms where at least heated correctly. But a shiver ran down her spine when she took the last few steps towards the single chair sitting next to the tub.

(Y/N) dropped Klaus on it, then she stretched her back with a delighted groan when her joints cracked a little. Ah yes, she could finally stand upright. When she lifted her arms to stretch, she realized that she didn't smell like roses either, but this was due to carrying Klaus around, she was sweating now.

A quick shower would do her good once she had taken care of her sleepy best friend. He was very pale in the face and rocking between sleepiness and exhilaration. Kneeling down, (Y/N) placed her hands on Klaus' knees and shook him a little to gain his attention. She did not expect what she got instead.

Klaus toppled over and before she could process what he was doing, she felt a distinguishable warm, sticky substance spill on her thighs.

“Fuck! Klaus!” she shrieked, forgetting about anyone else being in a nearby room, asleep. “What the hell?!”

After all she had done for him tonight, he just barfed on her jeans? And the stench... She was going to be sick too. She quickly grabbed a towel and wiped most of it off before discarding said towel. They had enough bathrooms anyway, one missing towel wouldn't be the end of them.

“'orry, s'rry,” Klaus was muttering, barely audible over the sound of (Y/N) fuming and cursing tequila.

She wiped him clean as best she could; her jeans would have to wait until she was done with him, even though it disgusted her. The stench was plain unbearable. Klaus regained some colors, which was the only plus side to this debacle.

“We'll see how sorry you are tomorrow morning,” she snapped, throwing a towel to his face – albeit a clean one, she wasn't like that. “I wish you a hangover!”

“You don't mean it,” he laughed a silly kind of laugh. His upper body was slowly leaning towards the left until (Y/N) stopped him from falling over and sat him upright again.

“C'mon now,” she sighed and took the towel from his hands. “Let's get you cleaned up and call it a day. You know, we're getting too old to party like that. I don't know how you keep up with this lifestyle.”

“I don't,” he blurted out, staring straight at her, sounding more sober than she had ever heard him. “But tonight's your birthday,” he added quickly, breaking into a sloppy grin again, making (Y/N) wonder if she was staring to mishear things because of how exhausted she was.

“Yesterday, actually. It's well past three in the morning.” He seemed to have fallen back into a half slumber, so she added, “Clothes off now!”

He didn't need more convincing than that and allowed her to remove his jacket and shoes, tossing them in a corner. Then she handed him a glass of water to rinse his mouth. This required a little effort from him and he swallowed some wrong and ended up coughing for a solid minute.

“Nearly there, now be a dear and use this mouthwash, because you reek or liquor and puke,” (Y/N) said teasingly, though Klaus was too far gone to notice her playful tone.

He obeyed and when she was satisfied he wasn't too smelly anymore, she nodded to herself.

“Shirt off,” she ordered, holding out her hand. The task was a tedious one but Klaus finally handed the sweaty shirt over and she tossed in the same corner as the rest of his clothes. “Now the pants, and then I'll let you sleep.”

Part of her was glad he was too fucked up to see the blush on her face when she said that. It really shouldn't be there, they had been friends forever and there was nothing she hadn't seen already. But removing lace-up leather pants was an entirely different ordeal than taking off a t-shirt, and Klaus groaned in protest.

“Don't be a baby, Klaus! I wanna go to bed too!” He wouldn't do as she said, so she made him stand up. “I can't believe I'm doing this!” she grumbled to herself, counting on the fact that Klaus wouldn't remember anything that happened tonight once morning came round.

Otherwise, God forbids she ever did what she was doing right now. Her hands fumbled awkwardly with the front laces of his pants and she had to admit it was quite the task. No wonder Klaus didn't want to do it, even she struggled to open them.

“Mmmhm,” Klaus let out a sort of giggle, sort of sigh. “What are you doing, (Y/N)?” His voice shouldn't have been so deep, it made what he said sound sexual.

What was she doing, indeed? Fuck that! He would just have to sleep in his dumb leather pants! She gave up on the task and left his pants half open at the front, raising both hands in the air as a sign of defeat.

“Nothing!” she told him, running a hand through her hair. “Let's get you to bed.”

The short distance between the bathroom and his bed was much more easily covered than their walk here. Klaus fell heavily on the bed, face first, and crashed into his swarm of pillows. Would he be able to breathe like this? (Y/N) briefly wondered. Well, he survived up to his thirtieth birthday without her checking if he wouldn't stifle in his sleep. She shrugged and returned to the bathroom to take a rapid shower. She had deserved it.

Once clean and smelling like Klaus' coconut soap, she hopped out and dried herself. No way she was going to slip into her disgusting clothes again! Her jeans were done for, she would have to burn them. She put her underwear back on and made her way to Klaus' room wrapped in a towel, then she searched through a drawer until she found a shirt that looked clean. This would do.

And finally, blissfully, (Y/N) went to bed too. She pushed Klaus over to make room, and slipped under the covers, passing out almost instantly.

Klaus was the first to wake up, and he was extremely confused by everything he saw. First of all, he tried to remember what happened last night. It was (Y/N)'s birthday, so they went out, obviously, but where? How long? What did they do? Oh God, what did they do?

When he startled awake, he first thought he was cuddling his bolster, but it moved and pillows usually don't move. His eyes opened, and he realized his arm was wrapped around (Y/N)'s middle, pressing her back up to his chest, and their legs were sort of tangled. Immediately removing himself from her, as though he had burned himself, Klaus's eyes widened in shock. What the hell was this? What happened? He had clearly spent the night nuzzling (Y/N), why didn't she just push him off the bed?

Having been in this sort of situation before, Klaus' first reflex was to lift the duvet and check what he was wearing. A sigh of profound relief fell from his lips when he saw his pants were still on. But- wait. The front laces were... undone? And (Y/N)'s pants were gone altogether!

His brain slowly powered up while he blinked away the remaining traces of sleepiness. If he based his reasoning on his current position, last night must have seriously gone off the rails. How drunk had he been? Surely he had known worse, because he wasn't too hangover this morning. He had never made a move on (Y/N)! What could have happened that made him do it last night? Why did she let him?

Oh fuck. He couldn't think about this before coffee. He needed coffee. Thank the fuck for Number Five who brought caffeine back into this house after their father's death. May the old prick rest in pieces.

Klaus sneaked out of bed without waking up his friend, grabbed a clean shirt, and headed downstairs. Yes, coffee first, dealing with his drunk-self's decisions later.

The house wasn't as full as it should have been so soon after their reunion – a real joke, if you asked Klaus. He had come because the timing was great, he had planned on flying over to see (Y/N) anyway, and this time Allison had paid for his trip because she wanted them all to be together.

She was the first to go, soon as the last toast had been given, she'd flown back to her life of glitter and gold. Luther hung around for no other reason than he did not know what else to do. Ever since getting back from the moon, he had been aimless. Number Five was stuck in a fifteen-year-old body and could not go live on his own yet. He lived in the academy all year round, and sometimes Diego came too. He was on the move now that detective Patch was dead. Vanya lived nearby but she didn't stay too long, the place held bad memories for her.

Klaus hated the academy, but it was still his home. He didn't have a place of his own like (Y/N). Coming was no choice for him, it was the only thing to do. At least Grace and Poggo were happy to see him.

He had been sitting in the kitchen, his right leg nervously jumping up and down, eyes wide open staring ahead of him while he bit the nails of his left hand and held his third cup of coffee in the right one. His memories from last night were still hazy at best, he did not remember much apart from getting a lot of free drinks, and dancing with (Y/N).

The logical thing to do was to wait until she woke up to ask her directly, but Klaus wasn't known for making rational decisions. Were it anyone else, he would have bounced the moment he woke up. Shit. He had done so well all these years, being the best friend, never crossing the invisible line, why'd he have to mess up now?

“How much longer are you going to be like this?” Number Five asked from his left. He was reading the newspapers, not even looking up as he asked the question.

His question did not even register in Klaus' brain. Five looked at Luther who sat across from him.

“I think someone broke Klaus,” he told the number one.

Luther grumbled something about it not requiring much given the state Klaus was usually in, before grabbing his bowl and putting it in the sink. Just when Luther left the room, (Y/N) swooped in, looking refreshed despite their late night activities – Jesus, it sounded so bad, even in his head. She was basically at home here, and knew her way around the house, greeted everyone like they were family.

But when Klaus saw her walk in wearing nothing but one of his shirt and underwear, he nearly tipped his chair over. Some steaming coffee spilled over the edge and burned his hand right when (Y/N) greeted them.

“Good morning,” she cooed, stretching like a cat when she stood in front of the counter, probably thinking about what she wanted to eat for breakfast.

Klaus' appetite had yet to make an appearance today. His eyes were glued to her until he realized he was staring a little too hard too long at his best friend's butt. When he turned his head back, he caught Five sending him a suspicious look through narrowed eyes.

“(Y/N)!” Klaus couldn't help but exclaim. Both Five and her stared at him curiously, waiting to see what he wanted to say. “There's a child in the room, have a little decency, please.”

Five rolled his eyes and his attention went back on the newspapers. Meanwhile, (Y/N) smiled wickedly and slowly turned back around, taking extra care to show her backside while she leaning forward to place two slices of bread in the toaster. This usually would have made Klaus laugh, even if it was tainted with longing, but after last night, it just made him swallow hard.

“Five is two times you age,” she pointed out. “Also, how's the hangover, Klaus?” Her fingers were tapping along to some imaginary tune against the counter while she waited for her toasts to pop up. (Y/N) then hopped on the counter and sat there, a butter knife in her hand. She began to unscrew the pot of raspberry jam.

“Not in this timeline,” he argued. “And I replaced alcohol with coffee, I'm fueled up for the day,” he assured her, lifting up his cup. “Don't remember much though.” Except his vague memory of (Y/N) fingers tugging at his pants to undo the front lacing, and some other flashes of disturbingly enticing memories.

“You're shaking, how many have you had?” She pointed at his left hand and Klaus had to admit she was right, it was shaking slightly. It took some focusing to steady it but he shot her a confident smile.

“Two.”

“Four.”

Klaus glared daggers at Five for betraying him like this; Five looked totally unfazed. The toaster dinged then, and Number Five folded the newspaper and stood up.

“If you'll excuse me, I have better things to do than sit here and watch you two make small talk to avoid the tension in the air.” Klaus was so going to get back to him for this, child or not. “Nice seeing you, (Y/N). Catch up soon.”

“The tension in the air?” (Y/N) repeated to herself, wondering what Five meant by that. She bit in a toast and walked to the table, sitting where Five sat only seconds ago. He sure as hell did create tension with his comment, but the air had always been clear between Klaus and her.

“Did we sleep together?”

Klaus' question came just as (Y/N) was about to take another bite from her toast, but instead it fell from her hands and landed on the wrong side on the table. What kind of question was that? She always crashed in his bed whenever they came back from a night out. It was how they did things, it had been this way since the beginning.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) answered with a shrug. “I mean unless you woke up on the floor, in which case I'm sorry for pushing you out of bed.”

Ignoring her humorous comment, Klaus gasped and nervously bit his fingers. She frowned but elected not to make anything of it. It was Klaus after all, he must still be out of it from last night. He poured her coffee in a robotic manner, as if it was born out of a reflex more than an actual intention, like when some people walked all around their room when they made a phone call, because moving helped them think.

“Why aren't you wearing pants?”

(Y/N) groaned before taking a sip of coffee. “Oh, thanks to you my pants are lost to the world! There's no getting them back. I was hoping you would lend me something to wear.”

Klaus nearly had a stroke, picturing the two of them bumping from wall to wall along the corridor leading up to his room, kissing feverishly and scattering clothes along the way. Speaking of, where were his clothes? He put on a shirt before going to the kitchen this morning, but he didn't forget that he woke up half naked, cuddling his equally half naked best friend in his childhood bed.

Why was she acting so natural around him?

“My closet is your closet,” he answered, somewhat mechanically too.

He saw the way she frowned at him before attempting to pick up her face-down toast. He watched her dip her finger in the jam on the table then lick it clean a few times, he closed his eyes right before the sight turned him insane. He could feel his body react to her; the mixture of apprehension and this enticing sight made him all kinds of confused and horny.

“I think I need a shower,” he stated and stood up quickly, before (Y/N) could catch sight of his current state. A cold one.

“You sure do,” she agreed and nodded without detaching her eyes from her newly jammed toast. “I'll be going home soon, but I'll see you again before you leave, right?” she asked hopefully, a second before Klaus stepped out.

He wanted to turn around to tell her this face to face, but he really had to get out of here before she saw what she did to him.

“I think I'll stay a bit longer.” This came as a shock to (Y/N), whose lips parted slightly, asking a silent question. “Can I come by tonight?”

She nodded, a smile on her face.

Klaus' head had been a mess all day. Especially after he got out of the shower and found (Y/N) in his bedroom, putting on a shirt he had once stolen from Allison. It was all too much and the cold shower he had taken minutes before did nothing for his hazy memories and slight dizziness.

In the evening, when she opened the door and saw him standing there, grinning wider than the Cheshire Cat and looking twice as mad, (Y/N) she was in for one of their endless contemplative conversations. She popped out some fancy glasses and mixed them each a cocktail, and off they were to her fire escape stairway. Access to the rooftop was banned since her 25th birthday, the year Klaus thought he would surprise her with fireworks. It was a nice idea, worth being forever banned from up there. So the stairway was the next best thing.

Immediately after they downed their drinks, Klaus' mood shifted and he blurted out the last thing (Y/N) expected. She had noticed how frantic he acted this morning, and was hoping he would be back to his normal self by tonight, but he clearly had something to say. It wasn't always easy being a Hargreeves, this wouldn't be her first improvised therapy session, except they usually only started after the fourth drink.

“(Y/N), I see dead people,” Klaus breathed out as if it were a hush hush secret and not a widely known fact.

“I know Klaus,” she laughed and tipped over her empty glass, watching the melting ice cubes swirl around.

“You don't get it.” He shook his head, his fingers nervously tapping against the railing. “I see everyone, the living, the dead, hell why not throw in the undead too? Sometimes I'm not sure who is who. I'll be talking to someone and I won't realize they are dead until I catch other people staring at me like I'm a freak,” he began rambling, staring off into the night. (Y/N) didn't dare interrupt. “I am, aren't I? I'm a freak. Why would someone like you stick to my side for so long? It makes no sense, so what proof do I have that you're alive and not some ghost following me around?”

(Y/N) extended her hand for him to take, except Klaus, in his state of existential crisis, did not take it right away and simply started at it like he had never seen a hand before in his life. (Y/N)'s nails were painted black because he had done her nails last week, for the memorial, though the polish was chipping off now, and the pure silver ring Klaus had once gifted her as a diploma gift was on her right middle finger.

He tried to remember a time when she wasn't wearing it but couldn't come up with anything. (Y/N) had been wearing it day in day out since he gave it to her – both as a way to celebrate her passing her exams and also to stick it to his old man. It had been a very lavish and expensive gift whose real value was known only to Klaus himself because he knew (Y/N) never would have accepted it otherwise.

His eyes moved back to her eyes. They shone bright like uncut stones, and her rosy cheeks swept by the evening wind made her look terribly adorable. She rolled her eyes after a while and simply grabbed his hand in hers. For whatever reason, he seemed taken aback. As if he had expected her hand to go right through his.

“You can touch me,” she told him, a slight blush warming her faces. True, he had developed the ability to physically interact with Ben now, but he had always been able to touch (Y/N), from the very first moment they met and he had grabbed her arm to pull her out of the way just when a car came crashing into the front façade of a pawnshop. Good times. “And your family see me too.”

“Right. But it still doesn't explain why you stick around. I'm a mess!” He laughed a sad, hysterical laugh that broke her heart, his eyes glowing under the harsh light of the nearby streetlamp. “You should have left years ago, when I started using. Do you know I don't even remember a bunch of your birthdays because I was so high? Who does that? Who celebrates their best friend's birthday high off their ass and forgets about it afterwards?”

He had abruptly let go of her hand. It hurt to hear that some memories that she cherished weren't shared, but (Y/N) never blamed Klaus for trying to escape his distorted reality any way he could. Doing drugs wasn't a good solution, but if he hadn't found a better one yet, who was she to try and force him to face his demons? She had always thought that he would do it in his own time, when he was ready. And he did.

“It's more complicated than that. I know that you-”

“It really shouldn't be. I should have been there - and I mean really there - for you. Why did you wait for me? Even when I left town, you waited for me.”

His sputtered out sharp, accusing sentences; his breath was short, erratic, a bit like when he was coming down from a high. But this wasn't it. Drugs didn't have anything to do with this.

(Y/N) found it difficult to swallow and it took her a little while to decide on the right thing to say. Her feelings for Klaus had always been a touchy subject, but so far he had never questioned their relationship – they were simply the bestest of friends, and that was that.

“I don't know what else to do,” she admitted, feeling the emotion built up. This really was a bad time for her, she becomes weirdly emotional after nightfall and even more so if she drank on an empty stomach. “If you weren't a part of my life anymore, I'd have a huge gap to fill. I look forward to seeing you show up at my door every year for my birthday. You never give me a heads up but I wait for you every damn time. There's no one I would rather get stuck on a deserted island with. You're my ride or die person.”

“I'm not reliable. Ask...” He gestured vaguely. “...literally anyone.”

“You've never let me down so far.” She shrugged. “The rest doesn't matter to me. Now stop questioning my reasons for sticking around. I love you Klaus, what else is there to say?”

He couldn't do anything but stare. (Y/N) wasn't a coward but her courage deserted her suddenly and she had to look away, ignoring his hard stare on her, willing her face to stay cool. Ben was glaring a hole into the side of his head and told him what he had been repeating Klaus all day, slowly driving him insane.

“Tell her. Tell her you love her too.”

Klaus would've told him off or hissed at him if he wasn't hyper aware of (Y/N) patiently waiting for an answer. What he settled for was even worse.

“Your mistake,” he eventually said before letting his head fall back. It was meant to be funny but it came out the wrong way.

“Are you fucking kidding me!” (Y/N) shouted all of a sudden, stung by his comment. “You are one whiny bitch, do you know that? Just accept that you're stuck with me for the rest of your life and move on, because I'm not turning my back on you regardless of how much you bitch about it.”

“You said 'bitch' twice,” he pointed out.

“Yes but one was a noun and the other was a verb.”

“I still don't get it,” he insisted.

Ben scoffed and turned away, as if he couldn't bear to witness Klaus' stupidity in action any longer. Klaus had to admit – at least to himself – that he was being stubbornly dumb with (Y/N). He didn't really know if he wanted to make her mad so she would leave him alone like he deserved, or if he was in complete and genuine denial of his own feelings.

“I don't get how gravity works but you don't see me floating away,” she replied, her tone settling down and getting relaxed again. “Whether you believe or not doesn't change the way things are. This ain't Neverland.”

There was a pause. She waited for a reaction. Klaus rubbed his hands over his stubble.

“I don't understand this reference,” he admitted, very begrudgingly.

“It's from Peter Pan, Klaus! How do you not know that?” (Y/N) raised both hands towards the sky in frustration but her smile betrayed how she felt.

“I've had a pretty rough childhood,” he chuckled as if it was an inside joke. Reluctantly, (Y/N) joined in and they shared an understanding look. “I feel like I lost the superpowers lottery,” he added. “The award for the worst superpower goes to Klaus Hargreeves.” A humorless chuckle. “I can't do anything with it. Nothing heroic at least. I can ask David Bowie if he likes my outfit before going out, but that won't save anyone's life.”

“You saved my life,” (Y/N) reminded him.

“We saved each other's life, it's a draw,” he shot back, frowning as he usually did when (Y/N) brought this up. It had happened eons ago, they were children for fuck's sake. “I couldn't protect you today. I'm not strong, I can't travel through time and space-” he paused, his eyes glazing over for a second as he no doubt remembered Dave, “or force people to do as I say, I can't even throw knives. Anyone can throw knives! You even don't need powers for that, but I still can't do it.”

“I don't need protection.”

“You will if you insist on staying in my life. Trouble always finds us - it finds me,” he added the last part a bit more quietly. “Trust me, I tried to outrun it for years.”

“I don't remember a time in my life when trouble didn't know exactly where I was and when to knock me off my feet,” (Y/N) assured him, setting her empty glass down now. She felt she would snap it in two if she kept twirling its stem between her fingers. “Whether you were there or not.”

“I know you're talking about your time in college, but that's just how college is I think,” Klaus chuckled. “Not that I would know, but that's what I've heard.”

A sad smile etched on (Y/N)'s lips forced Klaus to be serious again.

“It's not just that,” she told him quietly. “Also, you would've loved college. I know you're smarter than you let on, and it would have bought you four years away from the academy. Four years of absolute madness with Yours Truly.” She gestured at herself, grinning bright and wide.

“See? You should have listened to me, that's exactly what I told you ten years ago,” Ben added, much to Klaus' annoyance.

He didn't like when his brother meddled with his conversations with (Y/N), especially not if he teamed up with her against him – she didn't need that kind of support, she was right most of the time anyway.

“I would've blown it. I don't do well with authority,” Klaus argued, mostly to deflect Ben's argument than (Y/N)'s.

Ben huffed and disappeared again. Good riddance, don't come back before I go home, Klaus thought. Just because he's dead doesn't make everything he says cool and mystical.

“Whatever you tell yourself to feel better,” (Y/N) chuckled and grabbed a beer from the edge of the window behind them. “You look a little... off, Klaus. What's bothering you so much? Been seeing more ghosts again?”

“No, I mean yes, but that's not why I'm weird today,” he fumbled with words, pressing the cool beer bottle against his forehead to calm the whirlwind of thought in his head. It was just (Y/N), there was no need for such anxiety. “I don't understand how you can be so relaxed about it.”

“About what?”

“Don't act like you don't know!” He pointed an accusing finger at her and (Y/N) stared at it with wide, confused eyes, blinking slowly.

“I don't know what you're on about, dude. Is it something that happened last night?” A light bulb seemed to light up above her head suddenly. “Did you finally remember how you barfed all over me? Wasn't your most brilliant moment I have to say.”

“I did what now?” Klaus asked, baffled. “No, I don't remember that, and I sure hope I never will.”

“Then what's gotten your panties in a twist?” (Y/N)'s frustration was growing. If he didn't tell her right the fuck now why he acted like that, she would have to tease it out of him some way or another. “You are testing my patience, I can only handle so much nonsense, you know it.”

“Don't I,” he whispered to himself. “You know what? You're right, I'm being dumb. It's not a big deal, we're adults.”

(Y/N) frowned deeper, not having a clue what he was raving about, but deciding she was going to wait until he finished another beer to push the matter. His mind was clearly a mess, who knows if he even knew what he was talking about? Let's change the subject.

“You know, I'm glad this year's celebration was on the legal side, I really didn't want to be arrested again, and if we can avoid any and all near death experiences in the future, that'd be cool too.”

“Yeah,” he drawled out. “I thought we'd go back to classics this year,” he told her. “Since you vetoed all the fun stuff!”

Last year had gotten out of hand, which prompted (Y/N) to set some ground rules for future birthdays and other celebrations.

“I trust you to make even a plain, boring night at the club special,” she assured him, stroking his ego like nobody's business – it wasn't like anyone else did it anyway, his head would still fit through the door in the morning. The other umbrellas and his father always underestimated him. “I've never spent a dull evening with you.”

“So many compliments! Are you trying to get into my pants, (Y/N)? Because that's exactly how to do it.” He poked her cheek when her dimples showed and (Y/N) gave him a pointed look.

Yes, this was easy, this he knew. Just act normal, Klaus buddy, and she'll never know how freaked out you are about spending a night of drunken passion with your best friend, thus defiling your childhood bed.

“I'm way out of your league, man,” she scoffed in mock disdain and turned away from him. “You'd be lucky to get a hand job out of me.”

“Do I hear a challenge?” he asked immediately, jumping to the occasion to tease her further – he knew exactly what it took to make her turn beetroot red in the face. He liked how she tried to hide it behind a curtain of her dark hair. However, he knew he was treading on thin ice, and he had to keep himself in check if he didn't want to fall through.

“No, it's not Klaus!” she fired back, turning red alright. “It's a hard fact.” Fact, my ass. It wasn't even true. “Beer won't do if that's where the conversation is going. I'll be back.”

She climbed back into her living room and disappeared from sight. Klaus let out a sigh and looked into the night. It was mostly silent tonight, except for the cars driving by and the light music (Y/N) put on for background noise.

What kind of a mess had he put himself into? And fool as he was, he kept digging deeper and deeper. He needed to watch his tongue and stop making innuendos all the time. But it's what he usually did, so wouldn't it be weirder to simply stop? Would (Y/N) notice? Well, of course she would, she knew him better than anyone, except maybe Ben, but this was merely due to his ghost status that rendered privacy nearly impossible. Geez, did this mean that Ben saw the whole affair? Klaus dry heaved at the sheer thought that his brother had seen (Y/N) and him in action.

Also, if he couldn't remember shit about it, than it wasn't fair that Ben got to.

“Hey!” (Y/N) called, and Klaus felt something cold and damp against his arm. It was a glass of what he assumed was a gin tonic that she pressed against him to make him snap out of his bubble. “Are you going to take it or should I dump it directly into your mouth?”

God, he thought, accepting the glass but not taking his eyes off her, maybe Ben was right.

He squinted his eyes when he realized she was holding something else, a piece of paper, or was it? He couldn't tell, she was clearly trying to hide it in her palm.

“Since we're already on the subject of sensitive topics, I have a question for you,” (Y/N) told him as she sat down, her arm grazing against him and her eyes meeting his. “I've been meaning to ask you for a while now, but it never feels like the right time.”

He wasn't very good with social cues most of the time, but he had learned to pick up (Y/N)'s. Right now, he knew she wanted to have a serious conversation, her eyes told him so. It prickled his tongue just to know that for once he wouldn't be able to joke his way out of a situation, he would have to answer her truthfully, whatever she asked.

Neither of them drank the gin tonic she brought. (Y/N) thought it might give her a bit of courage if she drank before diving in the great unknown and asking the question that burned her lips. But she felt she might become sick if she so much as brought the glass to her mouth. She set it down on the iron railing.

Soon enough, her eyes prickled a little. Damn, why did she have to be so emotional after dark? It was exactly like when she was little and spilled all her secrets to her friends during a sleepover – the next day they told everyone who her crush was. Guess (Y/N) hadn't learned her lesson yet. No, she wasn't going to cry. She wasn't. Klaus' eyes were still glued to the side of her face, waiting for the anticipated question.

“Why did you leave, Klaus?” Even her voice was full of tears, but she somehow kept them from falling. Her eyes were trained on the photograph in her hands – an old picture of Klaus, Ben and her that Allison had taken a few weeks prior to Ben's death.

It was then that Klaus had fallen well and good into self-medication, and she knew she had lost him, she had seen his departure the following year coming from a mile away. Though it didn't hurt less when he disappeared without a goodbye.

“You know why.”

(Y/N) laughed a little. Klaus rarely used this serious a voice, she must look a fright if he didn't try to tease his way out of her questioning.

“That's not what I'm talking about.” No, she wasn't talking about Klaus skipping town at age twenty because he couldn't take the abuse anymore and still grieved his brother. “Reginald is dead. Why'd you leave last year? I thought you might want to settle down somewhere now that his influence can't reach you anymore.”

He shook his head and resting his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his open palms.

“This house isn't home. I don't see his ghost but his bitch ass haunts the place as sure as I am the hottest sibling. I can't even sleep in this house when you're not here,” he scoffed and slammed the full glass on the ground too.

It took (Y/N) aback. She blinked away the remaining tears and a put herself together. He still couldn't sleep. How did that affect someone's daily life?

A childish, idealistic part of her wanted to tell him to come live with her. He knew he was always welcome, she never rejected him. But the adult part of her knew it wasn't that simple. He couldn't spend his life on her couch.

He could just sleep in my bed though.

No, she shook the thought away, that was just plain stupid. The silly, naive teenage girl she never truly stopped being clung to an old hope. She had to let go of this.

“Sorry,” she muttered, feeling the ridicule of her sudden outburst now that it was over. She hadn't gotten the answer she was hoping for, but at least she would wonder anymore. “I ruined the mood, didn't I? There was a time I wasn't so serious, see what happens when you're gone too long?”

Shit. She closed her eyes and kept them tightly shut for a second. That wasn't the right thing to say. It came out all wrong, but Klaus still huffed and laughed.

“You mean you becoming boring? Tell me about it, I should take you out of this soul-sucking city before it's too late.”

(Y/N) thought she might like that.

All night they talked, and talked, and talked, but now once did Klaus mention what really bothered him. (Y/N) sat and listened to his jokes and his stories about Five going through puberty again and she laughed with him and huddled under a blanket with him when the night became too cold.

Yet he still would spill the beans to her. It was the first time she felt as though he was withholding information from her, that he didn't just refuse to talk about something, he refused to talk about it with her. Made her wonder if she did something wrong. The only reason why he would hide her something was if she was the source of the problem.

It pained Klaus to see her wait in expectancy all night, hoping he would open up to her. But the more he looked at her – really looked at her, her shining eyes, her smile, the way she shook her head when he told her something funny – and the more he realized he was living a lie he told himself. Ben had always been right. But (Y/N) couldn't know.

So she obliviously kept laughing with him, hoping that whatever preoccupied him so much would soon be dealt with, one way or another. God knew how long he was going to stay this time.

“... I mean, adolescence sure doesn't sit well on Five, he's been insufferable since I suggested he bust a nut to unwind. Something about cheating on Dolores,” Klaus kept going on and on. “Can you imagine? How long will it take for him to recognize I gave him valuable advice? Even you and I did it the other night, and we're fine as fiddles.”

(Y/N) blinked slowly, feeling a wire snap in her brain.

“Wait, what?”

(Y/N) didn't have a superpower. Or maybe she did, only different from the kind of power the Umbrellas had. Klaus wasn't sure. All he knew was that she made things go quiet and he needed that in his life.

When she was sitting next to him the dead didn't come too close. When he held her hand he didn't hear their heart wrenching moans. And the best part was that she didn't even realize, she just hung out with him because they were friends.

One day, he mused, Luther said something in a fit of anger that Klaus hadn't forgotten since, despite the years. He told him that he used (Y/N) for his own benefit and that he would step out of her life if he cared for her at all. That was shortly before Klaus skipped town and became a regular at rehab and the ER.

But he couldn't stay away, he couldn't abandon his best friend. He came back at least once a year for her birthday and tried to come by as often as he could without relapsing. Yes, he was a shitty friend, but he tried. And once a year, for a few precious hours, he was at peace.

He already lost his love once, he won't let it happen again. There was nothing he wouldn't do to keep (Y/N) in his life. Sometimes he still thought of Dave, of course. It lasted a flicker beat, during which he wanted to reach for the dog tags - except they weren't there anymore. He had kept them, put them somewhere safe as they were precious memorabilia, but they were no longer part of his everyday attire.

At the beginning he needed to feel them again his chest, they grounded him while he mourned. But over time they began to hang heavy around his neck, weighing down on him instead of helping him keep his head out of the water. That's when he decided to take them off, as painful as it was. Dave was in the past, far, far away in the past, and he was dead. How long could Klaus hold onto the memory of a dead person before it drove him crazy? He was unbalanced enough as it was, no need to add to it.

But as recalled holding (Y/N) against his chest, he thought maybe there was still hope for him. Maybe all the good parts of him hadn't died with Dave in Vietnam. It wasn't her job to fix him, obviously, Klaus knew that, he was aware he couldn't rely on her to fix himself. Perhaps though, waking up next to her and seeing her smile was all he needed to give him the courage to get better. The strength to get out of bed and not dread the day ahead. Maybe he had found a secure place for his heart again - he knew she would take great care of it, she always had.

He shook his head.

He was just putting the cart before the horse. Who said she felt the same as him? Sure, he thought that she act strangely calm after their drunken “hook up”, but he knew now that it was all in his head. She acted normal because nothing happened. She made it very clear that nothing occurred between them, so much so that Klaus would have taken offense if he wasn't busy feeling all kinds of other troublesome emotions.

This was giving him a headache. He had been hiding in his room like a teenager for days now. A few horrendous, boring, restless days during which he barely got any shut eye, for various reasons.

For now, he would enjoy his bath, but how long until (Y/N) barged in here to demand an explanation?

“Where's Klaus? He's been avoiding my calls,” (Y/N) asked Poggo the moment the large double doors opened.

He gave her a crooked smile, and made a slight head movement to the left. She sometimes thought Poggo knew when she was going to come before she even took the decision. She thanked him and stormed in, heading straight for his room and banging on the door. No answer. Her hand flew to the handle and she burst in uninvited. No one. Fine.

There was only one other place he could be if he wanted to avoid people and that was the bathroom. This time (Y/N) did not even knock and simply waltzed in, shutting the door behind her so abruptly that Klaus nearly dropped his headphones in the water.

“(Y/N)! You scared the shit out of me!”

Did he just... summon her? No, that didn't sound right. It was a mere coincidence.

“You should've answered my calls, it would've spared you a heart attack,” she replied, walking straight to the tub he was soaking in. “What's the matter, Klaus? Just say it so we can move on.”

“It's nothing!” he exclaimed, his voice too high pitched to be telling the truth.

“I don't believe you.”

“Just tell her. You know she won't drop it,” Ben told him with his usual 'I am full of wisdom' voice.

They would really need to have a conversation about how dying doesn't make you smarter or give you permission to spy on people's bath time.

“I know!” Klaus shouted at Ben.

(Y/N) took it for herself.

“Then why don't you spill the beans? I'm not going to judge you, whatever it is. Have you had a relapse?”

“No...” Klaus rubbed his eyes both his thumb and pointer finger, feeling tired already. It was barely past noon and he wanted nothing more than find cover in his bed.

“Why are you hiding it from her? Maybe she loves-”

“Shut up!” Klaus yelled, his head snapping to his right.

“Wait, is Ben here?” (Y/N) asked. She knew how much Klaus hated to have more than one conversation at a time, what with ghosts always trying to get his attention. It made it hard to focus and that's what made him turn to drugs in the first place. “Do you mind? It's rude to eavesdrop.”

Ben smiled even though she couldn't see it. She was standing there, fists on her hips, trying to look stern while Klaus sat naked in the tub, unable to avoid this conversation. Reassured that he would not just jump out of the water and try for a run, Ben nodded.

“You can't avoid this anymore. It's long overdue anyway,” he told his brother right before leaving them alone.

“He's gone,” Klaus informed (Y/N).

His shaking hands removed his headphones and reached for the window's edge to grab a cigarette. What had him so nervous? (Y/N) grabbed the lighter and lit his cigarette for him before he burned himself or dropped it in his bath.

“Please, Klaus. I'm getting worried.”

Her eyes shone in the bluish light filtering through the opaque window. He couldn't resist those big puppy eyes. (Y/N) sat down, back against the side of the tub. When his arm extended over the edge to hand her the cigarette, she took it and placed it between her lip.

“Is it something I said? It's not still about last week, is it? I told you: we didn't sleep together like you thought we did,” she said, blowing out smoke and watching it swirl skyward and dissipate before hitting the ceiling. She handed it back to him but he didn't bring it to his mouth.

(Y/N)'s gaze got stuck on his goodbye tattoo.

She, too, had been thinking over and over again about their conversation. When he admitted he thought they had spent the night together, she was taken aback. So much so that her first instinct was to deny vehemently, maybe too much even. It didn't come from a bad place, she was just surprised and shifted into her default denial mode. Whenever someone asked her if Klaus and her were a thing, she flipped and sputtered out something about male and female friendship being possible without developing romantic feelings.

Truth was, it was possible. It simply wasn't the case for her. She had always had a thing for Klaus, and she always thought he was aware and elected to ignore it for the sake of their long standing friendship. She realized how she felt upon seeing the enormity of the emptiness in her life, right after he left.

More than once, (Y/N) almost took a leap of faith and confessed, but they saw each other so rarely already, what if he simply walked out of her life for good after that?

She was blind and that was it. They were already so far from each other on a daily basis, she had nothing to lose, nothing at all. If he didn't share her feelings, they would still have a whole year to put that behind them and get their friendship back on track for her next birthday.

(Y/N) took the cigarette back. Klaus still hadn't answered her. Her fingers lingered on his hand and slid towards his tattoo, circling it.

“You surprised me, to say the least,” she started, still wondering what she was going to say next. Sometimes autopilot was the best option. “On the one hand, I'm glad we did nothing because you were drunk out of your mind and would have forgotten it all – which honestly would've crushed my self-confidence – but on the other, I think it would make for a memorable birthday present.”

It sounded better in her head. When she looked up, she met his eyes and it nearly broke a dam inside her. He looked so vulnerable, so heartbroken. She hadn't seen those eyes in years – or so it felt – and they rendered her helpless. (Y/N) swallowed, unable to look away, trapping by his big, glossy eyes.

“Don't say that,” he breathed out. She barely heard it, as if he was talking to himself and not to her. But she did catch his words and they burned in her mind.

“I am saying it. We've been together for so long now, I should have said it eons ago and not wait for a dumb misunderstanding before finally telling you.” He was so silent, everything was silent, almost like they were alone in the house. A shiver ran down (Y/N)'s spine and her heartbeat picked up its pace. “Say something, Klaus. Anything.”

“I hate this place.”

Well, it wasn't what she was hoping for, but at least he said something.

“So?”

“So I hate coming back. It makes me feel wrong, it's like a poison,” he tried to explain, finally freeing her from his gaze.

“Maybe you shouldn't come back then,” (Y/N) said, feeling herself growing sick.

“I can't,” he admitted, his voice desperate all of a sudden, breathless almost. “I can't stay away, as much as I hate it, I have to come back, because you're still here. And I can't leave you.”

It was difficult holding up his gaze now. What was he saying? Why couldn't he speak plainly? Then again, neither could she. It was so hard putting yourself in a vulnerable position – it was like exposing your neck to a hungry lion and seeing if he would bite you or spare you.

“I can't live without you.” His confession hit her like a thousand bricks, knocking the air out of her.

“Why does it make you so sad?” (Y/N) pushed.

“I already told you. I'm no good, I can't protect you, I'm a forever work-in-progress, you'll nev-”

“Don't presume to tell me want I am, or want, or need, Klaus,” she warned him before he could go any further.

“I can't even sleep most of the time. My life is a nightmare when you're not right next to me,” he whined, pressing his palms against his temples.

(Y/N) extinguished the cigarette on the tiled floor and stood up, kicking off her shoes. When her hands reached for the front button of her jeans, Klaus' shook his head.

“Wha- what are you doing (Y/N)?” he asked, blinking as though he thought he might be seeing things.

Soon, she stood (once again) half undressed in front of him. What he genuinely did not expect, was to see her take a hold of the edge of the tub and slowly climb into the water with him. Water spilled over the edge of the tub but they didn't care. Klaus froze and blinked dumbly, staring at her as if he didn't trust his own eyes. She was sitting in the tub, straddling his waist to be face to face.

He would lie if he said this hadn't happened already in some of his fantasies, but when he extended his hand to touch her arm, she was real.

“Do you know how difficult it is to take off wet jeans?” she said as an answer to his previous question – which he had completely forgotten about. “Why are you staying in cold water by the way? It's freezing in this bathroom.”

“Welcome to creepy manor,” Klaus replied on reflex. “Where everything is as cold and dead as Sir Reginald's stone heart.”

“You're joking because you're nervous,” (Y/N) said with a blinding smile. Klaus shot her a crooked little smile.

“Guilty. I'm only a man, and you just took a very sexy initiative, bravo.”

He licked his lips. (Y/N) let her fingers trail up his forearms, leaving a path of wet in their wake, little droplets running down to his elbows and returning to the tub. For the first time, she allowed herself to touch him in a new, unfamiliar way. Klaus stopped breathing altogether until she stopped her exploration and simply moved her hands to his neck, her thumbs brushing along his jaw.

He wasn't so cold anymore now, and (Y/N) must have felt it too. He was stark naked, there really wasn't anything he could hide from her, now could he? It wasn't fair, now that he thought about it, it was only right that she dropped her top too. His hands slid under the hem of her shirt and lifted it; she got the message and helped him take off the wet garment.

Klaus seemed to finally come alive when his hands settled on her waist, and (Y/N) replaced her hands where they were. Their proximity was exhilarating: they could feel each other's hot breath against their skin, they got drunk off of it. Klaus' head spun a little. His eyes locked with (Y/N)'s seconds before they met.

Seeing no hesitation on his part, (Y/N) smiled and touched the tip of his nose with hers, making him break into a similarly wide grin. Then, she leaned forward, sending some more water over the edge, and finally kissing him. One of his hands moved to the small of her back and pressed her to his chest, urging her to deepening the kiss. (Y/N) wanted to taste him first, savor the softness of his lips, enjoy the tickle of his facial hair.

But she was hungry too and she was done holding back and being a good girl. Their kisses became more frantic, they lingered; their lips became swollen and red too. Soon, Klaus' lips trailed down towards her neck and her collarbone.

(Y/N)'s hand shot out and held Klaus' throat, cutting short his ministration. Their chest heaved and they grinned madly at each other, completely forgetting the cold water. The rest of (Y/N)'s clothing was soon thrown across the room, hitting the door in a wet splash, triggering a round of giggles.

“Are we really going to do it in a tub?” (Y/N) asked, biting the skin right under Klaus' left ear, sucking it lightly to leave a mark.

“It's no smaller than my bed,” Klaus pointed out with a laugh, though his brows remained knitted together and his eyes closed in delight. He held to deploy an extraordinary effort not to moan out loud.

There was a glimmer in his eyes when he stared at her, as though he still didn't quite believe she wasn't a ghost or a figment of his imagination. He pushed back her hair, taking a fistful of it without ever stopping to look at her like she hung the moon in the sky.

He pulled her closer to him yet, and (Y/N) dived on his lips before answering, “there are 42 rooms in this house. Just imagine the possibilities.”

Neither of them was going to get out of this tub before quenching a thirst that had kept their throat dry for years now. It was messy at best, water everywhere, fumbling hands, voracious kisses, bites, nails marks – they laughed it all off, feeling so light they would fly away.

When they joined, there was a moment of silence, of holding onto each other for dear life, taking it all in and accepting that this was the beginning of something new. Klaus was the first to snap out of it, and his cupped (Y/N)'s cheek, watching her nuzzle his hand and place a soft peck on his palm.

Of course he loved her. How could he ever doubt it?

“What are you thinking about?” (Y/N) asked Klaus with a sly smile, already shifting closer to him as she pushed his hair out of his face.

It had been a long, tiring day – both emotionally and physically – and it had been no small feat to sneak out of the bathroom and into Klaus' room without getting caught. Five would have plucked his own eyes out and Luther might have spontaneously combusted.

Huddled together in Klaus' bed to warm themselves after the cold but no so cold bath they share, they fought to stay awake. Klaus' mind jumped back to his earlier musing about waking up beside (Y/N), and he knew he had been right.

“Nothing,” Klaus lied right away, refusing to reveal the ridiculous musings that crossed his mind. (Y/N) leaned into him, her breath hot again his neck when she spoke again and whispered

“Liar” against his skin.

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down again as he swallowed. The scariest part was behind them now, there was no need to be nervous. (Y/N) hand was placed over his heart and he briefly thought she could feel the desperate thumping of it in his ribcage.

“I was thinking-” he started, his throat a little dry, eyes lost in (Y/N)'s hopeful ones. “I was thinking I could stay for a while.”

#klaus hargreeves #tua imagine #klaus hargreeves imagine #the umbrella academy #tua #robert sheehan #umbrella academ

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r3b3lgrrrrrrrl · 5 years

Text

A LunaTic and her Gunn (Part 35)

"That FUCKING Jacket...."

@lovemythsworld

@creatureofthen1ght-v3

Ashley and Dom hit Colson's early Tuesday morning. They're all in the kitchen.

Colson and Dom making phone calls, working out last minute details for I'm Ok. They're gonna shoot the video tomorrow.

Ashley and Luna deal with promotion and other things regarding Nightmare. Confirming it's up and streaming, that sketches of their merch have been received and that they'll have proto types of them before the end of the week. Finishing up by scheduling a meeting with Randall Marshall from AL's chapter of the ACLU for next week.

The girls sweetly tell Their Boys goodbye before they leave for a radio interview at KISS FM.

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"THIS is gonna be FOOKING SICK!!" Dom declares hopping around the kitchen like a jumping bean. Laughing, Colson agrees as he looks for his weed.

"Hold on man, I'll be right back." He tells Dom, heading upstairs. Looking around his room, Luna's leather catches his eye hanging on the knob of the closet door.

"I hate that FUCKING thing." He thinks to himself, fire flashing inside of him as he grabs a mason jar of bud.

Back downstairs Colson asks Dom if he thinks Ashley would mind doing him a favor. "I don't see why not, Mate. What is it?" He asks as Colson explains.

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The interview is fun and engaging. Ryan praising them on Nightmare's instant success, it's empowering message and insane video. Applauding their efforts for wanting to help AL as they mention the merch donations. The girls are delighted and proud. Ashley mostly talks as Luna chimes in when she wants to.

"Now, I have to ask. Shot by a woman, all female cast, written and sang by 2 powerful women. Was it an all female production from top to bottom too?" Seacrest asks.

"No." Luna steps in. Her next words surprise Ashley. "We're backed and produced by MGK and his Guys."

Ryan pulls his head back "Are you who he's dating, Brooklyn? I've been hearing rumours." He leads.

"The idea was to flip that old saying 'Behind every great man, is a great woman.' Here you have a strong group of men backing strong women." She responds, completely side stepping his question. "We're not looking for separation or dominance, Ryan. We WANT support and equality." She finishes firmly.

Ashley smirks as Luna shrugs her one shoulder to Seacrest's annoyance. They chat a bit more about the project and the women involved. Ending the interview with Thank Yous as Nightmare plays them out.

Off Air Ryan says to Luna shaking his head "You're never gonna give me anything On Air are you, Loons?"

"Nope." She confirms with a smile to his laughing hug before she leaves.

"Tell him I said Hi." He yells down the hall to her laugher as she skips away.

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Back in Ashley's Wrangler, she looks at Luna. "I thought you were gonna out yourself for a second."

Luna looks at her sideways. "Psh. Yeah right." She laughs "Just giving credit where credits due." As she fires up a joint.

"Clever cover up." Ashley accepts it from Luna.

"I thought so." Both girls laughing, getting stoned as they head to Ashley's favorite nail salon. Luna needs a manicure after NY.

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Ashley and Luna walk into Colson's to quick kisses and Colson pulling Ashley back out the door. A confused Luna grabs a beer and heads upstairs to change. She's going to sit by the pool, burn, hang out with Dom, Benny and Rook. Trying to make sense of the dozens of lyrics rolling around her head

🎶Out on the West Coast//They got a saying//If you're not drinking//You're not creating//And I've//Found the music//Yeah, I've got music//Boy Blue//Without you🎶 She writing a love song about CA to NY. Knowing in her heart, it's metaphor.

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"Thanks for your help." Colson tells Ashley as they get back into his Rover. He's lighting a joint.

"I'm telling you, Kells. She'll like this one, and you might have a chance if you explain it to her well. She may even tuck the other away for you, but she'll never get rid of it."

"I know, Ash." He sighs. "I can't fucking stand seeing it though, especially with her shoulder the way it is."

"Welcome to Life With Loons, Kells. You wanted a rider, you got one." She takes the joint from him.

"I know...." He sighs again with a groan.

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After taking a shower Luna throws on a thin short, blue flannel dress with fishnet thigh highs, chunky, heeled booties and a solid red lip. Her blonde hair loose. Colson watches her get dressed. He loves the way she moves. They're headed to his friend Logan's for a party. She grabs her leather to his dismay.

"Kitten...." He starts. "Can I talk to you for a sec." She looks at him concerned. Sitting next to him on the bed, leather in her lap. "I don't know how to say any of this." He tells her, thinking of Ashley's words.

"Just say it, Colson." Luna's part worried, part becoming annoyed.

"I hate that fucking jacket." He spits out, without thinking.

"What." Her lip is cocked, eyebrows furrowed. Confused.

He grabs her leather and holds it up in front of them. "All THIS." He cirlces the safety pins securing the bullet hole. "I fucking hate THIS." She's silent, looking at him sideways. She flips her right arm over. Exposing the cockroach on her right forearm again. He gives her a nasty look back.

"I knew she was gonna be a fucking cunt about this." He thinks annoyed.

********************************************

"Mothersfuckers steady be trying to tell me what to fucking do." Her mind flashes angrily.

She breaks her silence, trying to choose her words. "We're new, so we're gonna be careful here. I get that you don't like Jax and I's relationship. And me getting shot while on a job with him only amplifies that. But you need to look at THIS." She circles the bobby pins on the jacket "As not of him, but of ME. I didn't need him to save me. I dropped that cop, MYself. I had enough time and adrenaline to get me AND my shit the fuck up outta there. On my own. He was a simple helping hand, a reason why you don't do a job alone." She states matter of fact. She puts her hand on the side of his face, looking into his blue eyes. "The jacket isn't a big deal to me, but, you trusting me and respecting what I do is, Bunny. I will always take your opinion into consideration. But, please don't ever think you can tell me what to fucking do, Colson. Ever." She leans up and kisses his silent lips.

"I feel like This Bitch just mind fucked me. And that I should feel bad for not seeing her strength in it, the way she does." He thinks confused with himself.

She stands up, tucking it in her bag. "I'll grab a new one tomorrow." She says nonchalantly.

"No. Don't." He finally tells her. "Wear whatever you want, Kitten. You're right." He stands up, pulling it back out of her bag and her into his arms. Giving her a deep, understanding kiss. His touch makes her body flush and lips plump, any annoyance slipping away. "I love you, Loons. Every fucking little piece of you." He tells her after the kiss. "I did get you something though." He kisses her on the mouth before letting her go to pull a box out from under the bed.

She laughs loudly, blue eyes sparkling as she opens the box to find a FABULOUS black leather jacket with studding and small red details.

"THIS MOTHERFUCKER." Her heart bursting.

"You weren't playing, hunh?" She asks continuing to laugh as she slides it on.

"No." He laughs sheepishly with her.

"You're a fucking maniac." She tells him, laughing still as she jumps into his arms and throws her arms over his shoulders. "I love it, tho. Thank you." Kissing him. 🎶And then She had 2🎶 She sings to him, both of them laughing. Kissing each other passionately, her legs are wrapped around his waist as his hands grip her thick ass. She squeezes him tightly with her body as he slides his middle finger inside of her, making her moan out. Kissing hard, bucking against his hand. "FUCK me." She begs him into his ear.

He slides her down his body, whipping her around quickly, his cock is throbbing for her. Bending her over, he runs his hands up her ass, pushing her flannel dress up before he slides her black patties down to her ankles.

"Fucking black." He smiles to himself.

❗SLAP❗ He spanks her hard with his large hand before running his finger along her soft pussy lips. Dropping his pants, he stands behind her red ass, dick bulging. "You want this?" He teases her. She begs Yes, before he slowly pushes into her moans. He groans pulling her back by her hair "FUCK, KITTEN!!!" He calls out, gripping her hip, fully entering her. Beginning to fuck her hard.

She bounces her ass off his dick, walls clenching around the size of his huge cock. Seeing stars.

"Who's dick is this?" He demands.

"MINE." She pants at him.

"WHO'S DICK IS IT?" He pulls her hair tighter.

Slamming into him, she moans loudly with authority "MINE! It's MY FUCKING DICKKK." Her cries make them both explode for the other.

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

Walking into the party, Colson introduces Luna to a couple of his friends. Logan, his brother Jake and Jake's fiancé, Tana. Colson and Luna sit sharing a beer with Them, Mod, Phem, Benny, Rook, Slim and a few others. He pulls her intimately into him, by the neck. Kissing her on the forehead just before Tana yanks her away to both of their disliking.

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

Colson continues to bust it up with The Brothers. Talking about Jake's upcoming wedding.

"You guys seem to really got IT." He tells Colson, commenting on him and Luna. "Think you'll take the plunge, Bruh?" He asks him.

Colson chuckles, looking down. "I don't know if she'd let me lock it down like that, Dawg. She's something else...." He trails off. "She DID get tatted with me tho." Colson beams, proudly showing off their matching ink to The Brothers.

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

Looking for Luna a bit later reminds Colson of his birthday. He's on a balcony looking down, trying to find her again. Then he remembers what Tommy did. Leaning over the rail, just the same, he bellows "BROOOOKLLYYYYYNNNN!!!!!" Searching for THAT bangled wrist. He finds it and her eyes. They stare into the other, mesmerized, locked in silence with only them, The World raging outside their bubble. He throws his arms up with his cigarette burning, grinning at her for a moment before he goes to get her.

"Damn, she looks good in that jacket." Colson stared long at Luna before heading down to meet her. "I fucking love her." He thinks, happy she chose to wear his.

********************************************

A smile breaks out onto Luna's face as she hears Colson holler for her. "Oh, thank Fuck." She sighs in relief, like their first night. Lifting a freshly painted, black fingernail, she finds him. Tana finally goes silent to Luna, once they lock eyes. All she can hear is her love for him

🎶I see🎶My Bunny🎶Swaying🎶His Newport is on fire🎶His hands are up🎶From the balcony🎶He's calling "Brooklyn"🎶I think🎶Move Bitch🎶Move Bitch🎶I'm in love🎶I'm in love🎶I'm in love🎶

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

Sitting at the table playing Dominos, Colson watches Luna walk to grab them 2 more beers. He fires up a joint as he sees a Dude walk over to her and put his hand on the small of her back, making Colson's blue eyes go dark. She moves away from Dude, shaking her head, saying something and flashing a quick smile before walking back towards him with their beers. Colson stands up quickly when he sees Luna stop abruptly. She throws words over her shoulder before continuing to walk back towards him, rolling her eyes.

"What the fuck was that?" He asks her as she sits down next to him. Opening their beers. He passes her the joint.

"Nothing, she sighs, taking it. Handing him his beer. He looks at her. She knows he's not accepting that. "He tried to hit on me, I politely declined, he called me a cunt." She throws her hands out. "It's whatever, Bunny, don't sweat it." She says giving him a reassuring kiss.

He kisses her back, checks out his hand but keeps an eye on Dude.

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

As Slim, Rook, Benny and a slightly drunk Colson leave the party, he's holding Luna's hand. Walking passed Dude, Colson hears him say "Yeah, THAT'S that stuck up cunt."

THAT'S all it takes.........

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

To be continued.......

22 notes · View notes

fangirlshandbag · 6 years

Text

The Sweater

Alright, I have done a thing. I have actually written an honest to god fan fiction. May the Literary Gods have mercy on my soul....

Without further ado, I give you The Sweater. Please be gentle. If you prefer to read it on AO3, here’s the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14046762)

The Sweater

- ROSAMUND KATHERINE ROBINSON! We are going to be late!

Rosie looked over at her older sister Millicent’s disapproving glare and rolled her eyes. Her sibling simply didn’t remember what it was like to be a newlywed. Admittedly, Rosie and her Jack were four years out from being true newlyweds, but her husband had been deployed to the front months after they took their vows. The rosy glow of their first days as man and wife hadn’t had time to wear off. Finally her love was coming home! Home after years of war and worry. Rosie wanted everything to be perfect for his arrival.

- Just a few minutes Millie. I’m trying to pick out just the right wool.

- I don’t understand what all the fuss is about. It’s just a sweater.

- But it must be perfect. I want Jack to have something warm to wear when he gets home. Winter is only a few months away. Besides, I want him to know how much I missed him. Now, his eyes. Are they all blue, or did they have some green in them? I can’t believe I don’t remember.

- I honestly can’t say I ever noticed Jack Robinson’s eyes, Rosamund. Mother is waiting. We told her we would be ‘round for tea a half an hour ago.

- There’s some green. I’m certain of it. Alright Millie, just let me have these wrapped and sent to the house then we can be off to mother’s

- FINALLY!

________________________________________________________________

Wrong! Wrong! WRONG!

Rosie could hardly contain her sobs as she pulled apart the sweater. Everything, from the colour to the fit was completely wrong. How could this have happened?

- Rosie, love, it’s alright. It’s just a sweater….

Jack was being wonderful, but he didn’t understand. It wasn’t just a sweater. Every stitch was supposed to show him how much she missed him. But nothing had gone right. She knew it from the moment they had embraced on the pier. His eyes did not have flecks of green in them. How could she not have known this? She was his wife!

The first few days of Jack’s homecoming had been a whirlwind, with visits first to her parents, then his. This was the first evening they had to themselves so, after a meal of all his favourites, Rosie had presented him with the carefully wrapped package that had sat in her hope chest for almost a year.

- What’s this?

- I made it. I wanted you to have something special when you came home.

With a wicked grin that was uniquely his, Jack had opened the package and enthusiastically pulled the jumper over his head.

But it was too big. Looking at him in the loose-fitting jumper, it hit Rosie exactly how much Jack had suffered in the war. She had gotten his measurements from his mother to make sure it was exactly right, consulted with her as to style and sizing, yet here it was, hanging off her beloved as though he were a boy wearing a man’s clothing. This would not do.

- It’s a little big, but your cooking will fix that.

Her lip trembled. He was trying to console her. Rosie looked at her husband, trying hard to contain her tears. That was when Jack scratched the back of his neck. She looked at her him in horror.

- It itches?

The tears were coming in earnest now. There was no stopping them.

- Just a little Rosie. It’ll soften up. It reminds me a bit of my uniform! It’s practically the same colour and….

Rosie wailed.

She ordered Jack to take off ‘that horrendous thing’ then hid herself away in the parlour.

Here she sat, an hour later, unraveling a sweater that had taken her months to knit. All she wanted was to celebrate her husband’s homecoming, just the two of them. How could she have failed so miserably? Why was she such an awful wife?

- Rosie?

Rosie dropped the tangled mass of wool into her lap trying to keep from crying.

- Rosie sweetheart, it’s fine. I love it.

Strong arms wrapped around her from behind and she leaned into the comfort Jack offered. He was warm. He was solid. He was home.

- I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I just wanted to make you happy….

She ran her hands over Jack’s strong arms.

- You do. It does.

His lips at her neck.

- Come to bed love….

His hand at her breast.

- Come…

She went.

A few hours later Rosie lay in bed listening to Jack’s soft snores, trying to make sense of it all. Their love making had always been a gentle, loving exploration. Admittedly, both she and Jack had limited experience. Rosie blushed to think of the one time behind her father’s gardening shed when things had gotten a little heated a week before their wedding, but there had always been a sense that even in the throws of passion there was a meeting of spirit as well as body.

Not this time.

It was confusing. It was as though she were reaching for something that wasn’t there, while Jack was… Well, she wasn’t sure. It was almost as if Jack were trying to lose himself in their lovemaking. While physically the act had ultimately been satisfying, her spirit was sadly lacking completion.

Rosie kicked off the covers. She was being ridiculous! Her husband was home! He had survived trench warfare, frigid winters, a lack of food, not to mention the Spanish Influenza for heaven’s sake. She was lucky to have him back. Other women were not so blessed. She had no business grousing about this! They would get through this. Jack loved her. She loved Jack. This would pass. He needed to readjust to civilian life. She needed to get used to being his wife.

She took a deep breath and calmed herself. Maybe if she finished unravelling the sweater she would feel better. She could cast on then knit the first few rows, much as she and Jack would knit their lives back together.

She sighed contentedly as she curled up into the settee and set to work.

________________________________________________________________

The sweater was coming along well. Rosie had completed the back and was now well on her way to finishing the front panel. Only a few more rows and…

The evening had started off in companionable silence, sitting together on the settee. Rosie was curled up with her knitting, Jack with his latest Zane Grey. It had been a while since her husband had been home at a reasonable hour. They had been distant lately but that was understandable. He’d been working so hard now that he’d been made Senior Detective Inspector. There was lots of work to be done, but another promotion couldn’t be far off and the sacrifice would be worth it. In the meantime, she would treasure this night together.

- Jack? What’s wrong?

Jack’s book was lying in his lap forgotten; his wide eyes wide but empty, staring at something far, far in the distance. His face, still thin, was even more drawn and pale than usual. Sweat dampened his brow. His hands were trembling.

Rosie touched his shoulder, gently, but he jumped off the sofa so fast that one would have thought she had jabbed him with her knitting needle.

- It’s nothing Rosie! I’m fine.

- You are not fine Jack. Talk to me. I want to help…

- Leave it Rosie. You can’t…. Just, please, leave it.

She could see the pain on his face and did her best to mask her own.

- I’m… I’m sorry Rosie. I… I have some reports to write. I had better get to them.

Rosie nodded. She would not cry. His rejection hurt, but her husband would not see her cry. It wouldn’t help anyway, so she returned to her knitting. The clicking of her needles became her mantra: We will get through this. We will get through this. We will get…

What she didn’t know, because Jack refused to burden her with the knowledge, was that the click of her needles, the thing that brought her solace, sounded exactly like the rain hitting his mates’ helmets as they lay dying in the muddy fields of Passchendaele.

________________________________________________________________

She felt Jack’s lips on her neck, nibbling, teasing. It had been so long, but…

- Jack, please! I’m trying count!

- C’mon Rosie, put it down.

His hand was at her breast, his lips more insistent, and she was feeling the familiar thrum between her thighs. She wanted him, yes, but she wanted the damn sweater done more. She pushed his hand away.

- No, stop it Jack. I’m busy.

And exasperated, and lonely, and confused, and…

- I came home early to spend time with you, only to find you gone. Then when you finally do get home, having eaten without me, you sit in the parlour and pay more attention to your damn knitting than to your own husband.

Rosie rubbed her temples. She looked at the stranger standing in front of her.

- I told you, I’ve joined the ANZAC Fellowship of Women. They meet every Thursday afternoon. We finished late, so I went for dinner with the head of the Membership committee. I didn’t think it would matter to you. You're never home until after ten anyway.

Jack threw up his hands.

- You’ve got the Widows and Orphans group on Monday, poetry readings on alternate Tuesday afternoons, the church auxiliary on Sunday, not to mention your regular tea with your mother and sister every Friday afternoon. Now this?

Rosie was surprised he even knew her social schedule. Jack hadn’t accompanied her to any engagements in more than two years. Frankly, unless it involved the men at City South, he showed little interest. When he was home, he was either buried in his garden, or his books, or his bottle of scotch.

- Yes, and?

- But when I want a little attention…

- Don’t you dare Jack! I’m alone all day and most nights. I need to see people. I need to talk…

- Then talk to me!

- When? You’re hardly ever home. When you are home, the only time you want to talk to me is…

She closed her eyes, bit her tongue, trying to calm herself. Rosie always feared becoming a bitter harridan and she worried that giving voice to this complaint would mover her one step closer to that sad state. Putting her feelings to words would make the situation too real, too pitiful, and too much like her mother’s.

- I only want to talk to you when?

Jack ground the words out, even and dry, through clenched teeth.

Rosie pulled herself to her full height and looked at the man she had sworn to cherish in the eye. Pride and frustration gave her words wings.

- You only talk to me when you want to fuck, Jack Robinson.

She was surprised how easily the vulgarity came to her lips. She, who was always so prim and proper, who did her utmost to be the gracious lady, was reduced to such crassness. But there was iron in her tonight and she would not apologize. She would shoulder a lot for Jack, but not this. She was not going to concede on this point. She needed to find a purpose to her life. She was trying to be a good wife, but a pristine and empty house could only do so much. It wasn’t appreciated anyway. She wanted to be a good mother, but that wasn’t going to happen for her. She knew that now. All that was left for her was to be a good woman, work as hard as she could for causes she thought worthy. Rosie’s hope was that she would be able to find shelter for her heart in the associations she joined and the friendships she made now that her house was nothing more than an empty shell.

Jack stood stock still, staring at her, dumbfounded. If she had slapped him he could not be more surprised. Rosie met his gaze and remained defiant.

- Fine. Go back to your knitting. I have work to do at the station.

- I won’t wait up.

She sat back down, crossed her legs, and returned to her counting. Jack never returned to her bed.

________________________________________________________________

Rosie stared out the window, twisting the almost completed jumper in her hands as her father and her husband passed each other on the walk leading from driveway to house. She was terrified they would come to blows, but couldn’t blame her father if it did. His sense of hurt and betrayal at the hand of the man he considered a son ran deep.

Thankfully there were no punches thrown, just a polite nod as they passed.

She breathed a slight sigh of relief, but the respite didn’t last.

- How could you?

The door had barely closed behind Jack before the recrimination tore itself from her throat.

- Rosie…

- Please explain. Before I say anything else, explain this to me. My poor father is beside himself….

- My men needed me. They needed to see that they had support. They are dying out there and the higher-ups don’t care. Something needed to be done. The strike is the only way….

- I’m not talking about going on strike Jack! Father was so angry that I didn’t talk you out of joining them! But I didn't know! How could you not tell me you that you were going to join them? I had no idea! Do you have any idea how that made me feel? And then to have to explain that you haven’t spoken to me about anything outside of ‘Good morning’ and ‘Good night’ in weeks? I have never been so humiliated.

- But my men…

- Dammit Jack Robinson, they are not soldiers, and you are not fighting a war! Not anymore!

- Rosie, you have no idea what this job is like. It is very much like a war. I owe them….

- And what about me Jack? What do you owe your wife?

Jack scoffed.

- Wife? What does that even mean? How can you call yourself a wife when you are hardly ever home, never mind that you won’t…

Rosie didn't give him a chance to finish.

- I’m home as much as you are Jack Robinson! It’s not like you’ve given me a family to look after.

And there it was. It had finally happened.

She had wounded Jack so profoundly Rosie didn’t think there was any way back from it. She could see it in his face. Jack always wanted to be a father. She knew that. They had talked excitedly about it on their wedding night, his eyes bright with hope that it wouldn’t be long for them to conceive a child. Now she had thrown that failure in his face.

Rosie always knew that her parents marriage wasn’t a happy one. It was a bitter arrangement of social conformity that left both her mother and father trapped and profoundly miserable. So far, she had deluded herself that she had avoided her mother’s sad fate. That as bad as things were between her and Jack, it was nowhere near as sad as what her parents were living.

How wrong she was.

She took a deep breath, tried to look her husband in the eye. She failed.

- You still have your job…

- What? George does not owe me any…

- He didn’t do it for you Jack. He did it for me!

Rosie looked down at the twisted mass of wool that was still in her hands. The sweater was almost done. She was weaving in the ends when her father had arrived with the news. She heard Jack open the front door.

- Go back to your knitting Rosie. I have things to do.

She stood on the landing for a long time, wondering if her husband would ever come home before returning to the settee to finish her work.

This could not go on.

________________________________________________________________

Jack took a deep breath before turning the door knob and walking through the entrance to what was nominally his home. The estrangement was getting to be too much for him to bear. The gulf between he and Rosie was his fault. He knew it. He just didn’t know how to bridge the divide.

He paused. The house felt different somehow, but even with his policeman’s instincts he couldn’t put his finger on it. Maybe it was the pot of fresh flowers on the bookcase near the door?

Walking slowly, Jack entered the kitchen. Normally, when he was home late Rosie would leave a sandwich waiting for him in the icebox. If he was lucky it would be ham and mustard pickle. Not tonight. Tonight, there were flowers on the table, a glass of wine, steak and kidney pie, and candlelight. On his chair sat a package wrapped with a bow.

Oh Rosie, his sweet, loving Rosie. She hadn’t given up on him. They hadn’t talked in two weeks, yet she was still reaching out to him. He felt as though a heavy weight had lifted from his heart.

Jack sat down and ate his dinner. He deliberately took his time to savour every bite and when he was done, he slowly unwrapped his gift. He couldn’t help but laugh when he held it up. It was the sweater! That ridiculous, ugly jumper that Rosie had been working on for the better part of four years.

How he loved her. He would make things up to her. He would explain everything. He just knew….

- I’m sorry Jack, but I can’t do this any more.

He looked up to find his wife standing at the door to the kitchen. She was wearing her hat and coat.

- Rosie? I don’t understand…

- I can’t bear to live like this anymore. I don’t want to become my mother.

It was then he noticed the suitcase.

- You’re leaving? I thought….

Jack tried and failed to keep the tremor from his voice. He looked around the house, at what he thought was Rosie attempting to create a new beginning, only to realize she was writing an epitaph for their marriage. That’s why the house felt different. His wife had already vacated it in every way except bodily.

- I’m going to live with my sister. You can stay here or sell the house. I really don’t care anymore.

- Rosie, I’m sorry. I know I’ve been an ass. I want you to stay. I want to try. Please stay. Please…

The tears were falling in earnest now, both his and hers. Neither one wanted to part, but what do you do when you can’t find a way forward, together?

- I love you.

- I love you too.

Sometimes love isn't enough.

- Will you think about it Rosie? Please?

She nodded, picked up her suitcase, and walked out the door. Jack hadn’t heard the cab pull up to the house. He watched as one of the cabbies loaded the bags into the boot. Rosie didn’t look back.

Jack stood on the porch watched the taxi drive off until he couldn’t tell the tail lights from the stars in the sky. He gently closed the door, then collapsed against it clutching the sweater to his chest as he wept.

________________________________________________________________

EPILOGUE

Jack was just putting his clothes away after his latest escapade with Miss Fisher. When had he started thinking of murder investigations as escapades? He shook his head. That woman…

He still hadn’t shaken off the chill from the mine. Until his house had warmed sufficiently he would keep his sweater on despite the fact it was ugly as hell, not to mention too small. Clearly, he’d been overindulging in Mr. Butler’s cuisine. Yet, the jumper was warm and that was all he cared about. Besides, Rosie had had toiled for so long to make it for him. The least he could do was wear it. His eyes burned with regret as they often did when he thought of his ex-wife and how he’d failed her.

A quiet rap at his door pulled him out of his reverie. Surely it wasn’t Miss Fisher hoping for a nightcap….

- Rosie?

She stood before him, tall and proud, but the sadness that had invaded Rosie’s life the night of the Pandaris raid was still in her eyes despite their smile. It cut Jack to the core to see it.

- Hello Jack. I hope I’m not intruding.

She glanced around as if expecting to find someone else in the house.

- No, not at all. I just got back from a business trip.

It was then that she noticed the sweater.

- You still have it? After all this time?

Jack looked down at himself. He felt somewhat embarrassed. Rosie knew he generally wasn’t one for nostalgia. He struggled for a way to explain himself.

- Yes, well, we were in the mountains, and it is the warmest thing I own, so….

- We?

- Err, yes. Miss Fisher uh, I mean Constable Collins and I were assisting Miss Fisher…

Rosie took pity on her former husband and held up her hand.

- Say no more. I hope your business was resolved to everyone’s satisfaction.

- Well, not the murderer’s….

Rosie chuckled. It was good to hear her laugh. Better to be its cause for a change.

- Would you like to come in? I could put some tea on.

- No Jack. I can’t stay long. I came to say goodbye.

Jack’s face fell. Of course… Her father… Fletcher… He understood.

- I’m moving to Adelaide to live with my aunt. Not too far off, but far enough. Sidney wanted me to stay, to look after his affairs. He even said he’d look after me, but I can’t. Everything is tainted. I feel filthy walking into that house knowing….

She sighed, and Jack marveled as she pulled herself up to her full height. She didn’t look fragile, she looked determined. It was then that Jack realized then that Rosie would be alright. Better than alright eventually. He needn’t to worry over her any longer. He was going to miss the woman she would become, and it saddened him that he wasn’t going to get to meet her.

- Don’t look like that Jack. This is ‘goodbye’, not ‘fare thee well’. I’ll come back. I need to be here for the trial, and frankly, I want to see Sidney hanged. Melbourne is still my home despite everything. I have my family here, and friends, old and new. I just need to find myself again.

She smiled her tremulous smile then surprised him by placing her hand above his heart. She ran it gently over the stitches; the wool wasn’t as rough as she remembered.

- Remember what I said about things being different the second time around?

Jack nodded, not able to find the words.

- They aren’t so different that you can’t make the same mistake twice. Talk to her Jack. Don’t wall yourself off.

There was no question as to who his ex-wife was talking about.

- Rosie, I…

- I must go now Jack. Take care of yourself, and her.

She turned and opened the door, then paused to face him to him one last time from across the threshold of the house she once called home.

- One last thing?

Rosie smiled that smile that took him back to the first time he’d met her in the apple orchard. Jack’s breath caught.

- Burn that damn sweater!

#mfmm fanfic #mfmm #fanfic #jack robinson #rosie sanderson #miss fisher murder mysteries

33 notes · View notes

baileysayswhat · 5 years

Text

Well, it’s been a year. Truly. I haven’t blogged in a year! Not since my EPIK return to Korea (wink at y’all English teachers over there) for MinShik & Ara’s wedding.

And here those same people are celebrating their one year anniversary by having their first baby ON THAT DAY. That’s some Gattaca-level skill, I tell ya.

Lots has changed. LAWD. Yes. Grab yourself a low-carb snack because y’all about to get the deets.

Jobs

Two promotions at Grubhub and a sabbatical-turned-bowing-out at Titan Gym ALL IN THIS PAST ONE YEAR.

In January I became a Senior Sales Executive with Grubhub; it was a huge, out-of-the-blue honor and when I asked ‘what’s different than my current job?” my boss replied “Its what you’re already doing with the team, I’m just going to pay you for it.” How cool is that?!

Actual photo of said boss:

Seriously one of my favorite things in my career was in our first ever one on one development meeting last year (right *after* the Korea trip) the first thing I said was “I want you to know I’m in grad school for training and development and that’s what I want to do long term.”

His reply? “OK, let me hook you up with the right person who’s heading up training.” Literally the next week she got me in a classroom training new hires in a session 1x every 2 weeks. MONEY/MOUTH AND ALL THAT. When does that happen?!

And this past April when a new role opened up to become a sales trainer for new hires he recommended and she championed me for the role, which started May 1.

Y’all. I have never felt the Conan mantra of “If you work really hard and you’re kind, amazing things will happen” more. I joined Grubhub just to get a sales paycheck and have a regular schedule to pursue my passions and here this place that I thought would be a job I wasn’t going to put my heart into has given me such gifts. Managers that believe in me and CREATE JOBS that I wasn’t even aware of. I’m very blessed.

Now I’m the “Learning Solutions Associate” (ie. Non-Corporate Sales & Account Advisor Trainer) for all employees in those departments for Grubhub Inc. Nationwide. I’ve trained over 75 people in the last 5.5 months. That is bananas to me and I’m so grateful. All that in a year and a half at this company.

Because of that role shift and wrapping up grad school I knew that my time at Titan Gym was coming to a close. I have loved and sweated and bled and cried in that place – sometimes all at once – and I leave with so many good memories and relationships. I felt like I couldn’t be both throwing my heart (and fists) into learning & teaching Krav while also trying to originate a role at Grubhub.

So with a final rooftop drinking session and countless hugs I left (by choice) no longer an instructor at Titan Gym. I’m still a certified Krav Maga Level 1 Instructor through KMA and I know if I’m ever interested in getting back into it that Daniela and Ivo have my back. And if you need a place to kick ass, feel stronger or find mental toughness I will recommend Titan Gym to the moon and back again and again and again.

WHEW.

2. School

Yes, I finished my grad program at University of Wisconsin – Stout and now have my graduate certificate in Instructional Design. I need to frame that fancy piece of paper sometime soon.

3. Comedy

BUT WHAT ABOUT THE LAUGH SQUAD?! Oh man y’all. So last October in the week after I got back from Korea I auditioned for a ComedySportz House Team and was cast into the most perfect circle of weirdos by two insanely talented coaches who happened to have the exact same initials – HMS. So naturally our team name became “Pinafore” after the famous Gilbert & Sullivan comic opera ‘HMS Pinafore.’ I have still never to this day heard any music from it although I did briefly glance through the Wikipedia page.

No, I didn’t realize we were all serving fierce face. Or at least my genre of fierce face. Our team just had our final show on 10/6 and it has been a journey. I feel like I’ve grown with such a great team with depth and tears and joy. I have peed myself a little laughing so hard, which I can admit now that the team is done. I mean, I could have admitted it before but why BOTHER.

Truly I have loved the CSZ House Program; auditions for the next round are in November and I’m excited to see what the next group of people I get to fall in love with looks like!

Other things I’ve been blessed to yuk it up on/with: I got cast into a RIFF Music Improv camp which has had me perform 3x with a stone-cold group of short-form music improvisers that HAVE PIPES, y’all. Some of these people I’ve watched perform for years in music improv and it’s an honor to strap on a Britney mic and make up songs for an audience with them.

I’ve also done 2 seasons of MINt (Music Improv Night) at the Annoyance; such an open space to trying weird and beautiful things with music improv and our voices. If you’re looking for a community to fall in love with, the MINt crew is a good one. 4 teams every 4 months and you get such a wide range of experience, skills and strange, hilarious songs.

There’s been a few one-offs performing with friends’ groups and even a couple shows with some MI people I met in iO’s Music Program as an indie group named “AirBRB.”

I’m moving into a season when I’m not sure when my next show is; it’ll be light this next month, which is kind of a fun thing. I’ll miss it. But I think it’s healthy to have a breather and come back hungry, whenever the next show is. And you never know when someone might text you at 4pm about a show that night at 1030pm and you gotta be ready to make believe with the best!

4. Health

OOOOOHHHH fun. Let’s talk about it! Since last year when I got my Krav Maga instructor cert in July (shoutout to the 3am Protein Squad) I’ve let things slip a bit. And why not?! When you survive that kind of thing you deserve to let yourself chill. But…I didn’t really reign it in. I was doing ok; maintaining some cardio but I knew things needed to step up. I was getting a little burned out on Krav. Here’s my 7am face on the way to teach class:

I let myself write excuses and they added up. Once I was done punching/kicking regularly I did CrossFit for a few months – it was great and ya girl loves heavy weights – but the price was really high. Especially when I could be going out of town to our Phoenix office for work up to once a month, missing a week at a time. It was an expensive habit.

So I jumped back into going to LSAC (Lincoln Square Athletic Club) regularly – it’s been 3 weeks in and I’m kind of loving my schedule:

Mondays – Pole Class at Brass Ring (I KNOW) and it’s so fun. Such an empowering environment and an hour flies by. Its slow but I see progress! And thigh bruises.

Tuesdays – Workout at LSAC (trying to follow the schedule Brian (see Fridays) gave me the week before)

Wednesdays – Volleyball with friends at LPHS – y’all we had a double header last week and I burned 1,448 calories in 1 hour and 55 mins. WE WORKIN’.

Thursdays – Improv Day (aka rest and do some make believe in comedy class)

Fridays – Personal Training with Brian at LSAC

Saturdays – Yoga (at home right now using an Apple TV app but maybe at LSAC in the future)

Sundays – Intro to Olympic Weightlifting with Keith at LSAC (today was the first one; I did a 65lb bar snatch from shins to above my head! 9 times! Y’ALL! SHE BACK!)

Also I started attempting/doing a Keto & intermittent fasting on 10/1; it’s been a little rough but we’re getting into the groove of it. That first week, candidly, sucked. The low carb/Keto flu thing is for real. But now I’m used to it; the 12-8 fasting part is honestly not that hard now. Very manageable. It’s more the carb counting thing of keto that is taking slow (but progressive) shape.

5. The Rest

a. Photography

I know everyone has a camera in their smartphone – I’m doing some photography learning – I bought myself a Canon T6i DSLR last year RIGHT BEFORE starting grad school so I hid it in the closet from myself until school was done in May. I’ve taken some pictures I’m proud of and I’m working my way through a couple Lynda.com (grad school got me a free account) photography courses to learn the camera. I’m a student of it right now for sure but here’s a few photos I’m proud of:

b. Norway

I found out last year that I’m 1/8 Norweigan; that doesn’t sound like ‘a lot’ but honestly I’ve never really thought about it. I generally classify my heritage as ‘SPF 75’ but have always known our family is generally German with some crossover to other classically pale squads (Irish, probably English, other various tribes of roving wild-haired people on/around Hadrian’s wall, etc).

Last year in October someone posted in this Women of Chicago Comedy Facebook group I’m in about a Norwegian TV show that 1. Flies you to Norway and 2. You good-naturedly compete with other Norwegian-Americans to win $50,000. SO I APPLIED OF COURSE and got to ask my mom and grandparents questions over iMessage about my heritage. Apparently one of my great-grandmas was first-generation American, born in the US. Her parents both emigrated from Norway in the early 1900s to Washington State, near Ballard. So…if one of the 8 people that made me is full-blooded Norwegian…then by the power of Punnett Squares or whatever that means I’m 1/8 Norwegian, right?

ANYWAYS I did not get cast but I just realized they’re auditioning again so I’m going to throw ye olde application back in there. 1. Because it sounds fun and 2. Norway is GORGEOUS and 3. I did promise Neal Carlin that I would apply again. He’s gone in Italy doing an insanely cool apprenticeship so the least I can do is fill out info about my LIFE.

Our family doesn’t really do any celebrations of heritage. My great-grandma Harriman (she of the Norwegian blood) made lefse for Christmas, but I never really understood the connection as a kid. She passed when I was in high school and none of us kids ever learned to make it with her. Also, keep your traps shut but my real goal if I get on this show is to learn to make Fattigman cookies and then make them with my Nana for Christmas. KEEP MY SECRETS, INTERNET.

I think there’s a real beauty in appreciating where you came from and knowing you are a part of a legacy of choices – good ones, bad ones, ones that had to be made one way or another – and then choosing how you want your part of the story to be written. Sitting under the Northern lights and walking on glaciers would be a pretty jaw-dropping moment in life; 10/10 I’d be crying frozen little tears of joy. So we’ll see! I’m applying!

c. Travel

I’m going to DC in less than 2 weeks – I’ve never been to DC AND I haven’t seen David Brown in 4+ years in person. That’s bananas to me. I genuinely cannot believe that there’s not some time/space blanket fold that I jumped through because it CAN’T have been four years.

But the internet says it has. So myself, Bekah, Adam & Dana (plus maybe their dog Millie) are all meeting up with David in DC October 25-27 and I could SQUEAL I am so excited.

I went to Ohio in March just to see my loves Xander and Trace and get drag-ified myself. I learned that clip on earrings are the reason beauty = pain and that stick on nails are NOT for me. But I looked great.

d. Experiences

I saw my first Broadway shows in the past year – I don’t know what took me so long! I saw Hello Dolly, Book of Mormon, Hamilton. Les Mis, Falsettos – I WANT TO SING EVERYTHING.

I went to the Shedd Aquarium on Thanksgiving – it was BEAUTIFUL and uncrowded and my ticket was free – cue v v thankful.

I saw Conan O’Brien’s show in Chicago and met Aaron Bleyart, who’s blog(s) I have followed for over TEN YEARS.

Passed my Krav Level 3 student test and Muay Thai Level 2!

Survived the Polar Vortex in Chicago when it was over -20 degrees below zero. This is the *inside* of my windows.

My parents came to Chicago for Father’s Day! The umbrella is my Mom hiding from the camera as all 3 of us eat Chicago Dogs outside the Field Museum. Also, I went to the Field Museum.

I went to Arizona 3 times – February, May & August – for work and to visit family. What a cool, weird mix of colors. I saw the Grand Canyon and cried a little behind my sunglasses as my family pretended to not notice.

I saw a Seattle-based artist, SYML, who’s work I love not once but TWICE. Also saw Dean Lewis at the same concert and fell in love w his new album.

Saw a bajillion improv shows, learned which lipsticks look good on my skin tone and saw so many people I love.

What. A. Year.

More updates, more often, from this face:

A Blog I Pay For and Rarely Update: UPDATED! Well, it's been a year. Truly. I haven't blogged in a year! Not since my EPIK return to Korea (wink at y'all English teachers over there) for MinShik & Ara's wedding.

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