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Merwyn Finwick ([info]fallasleep) wrote in [info]finnigans_rpg,
@ 2015-08-06 02:03:00

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Entry tags:character: gwenog jones, character: merwyn finwick

Who: Gwenog & Merwyn
What: Hooking up yo
Where: Gwenog's place
When: BACKDATED February 2003
Rating: NC-17 - sex be here



The beginning of the year always tended to be a dark time for Merwyn. He'd never really recovered from the betrayal of his team - his Captain specifically - and being cut from the Tornados, despite his protestations and pretence to the contrary, and apart from the time of year having a naturally dampening effect on his mood it was also around this time that he'd had his first bout of narcolepsy which was the beginning of the end of his Quidditch career.

Every year since then around this time he'd been admitted to hospital with 'accidental' self-injuries, and while none of them had been successful thus far it wasn't for want of trying. He'd stumbled his way into Finnigan's, already drunk and supported by fairweather friends who were tapping him for his cash. They propped him up somewhere out of the way and took his wallet, leaving to get their use out of it while Merwyn was left on his own.

He was sobering up by the time the night drew to a close and he realised with a heavy heart that he'd lost all his new friends and his wallet too. He felt miserable and lonely (and still a little drunk) and when he bumped into Gwenog Jones, a fellow Quidditch player and a woman he'd admired for the entirety of her career, he couldn't help clinging onto the only port in a storm. "Gwenog! It's Merwyn, from... I used to play." That stumble was a painful one. "C'n I get you a drink?" He asked before remembering that he didn't have his wallet. "Oh, I mean.... I don't have my wallet right now. I'm sorry." he was more affected by that failure than he should have been; he looked at Gwenog like he'd broken her best broom or shot her cat or something.


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[info]fallasleep
2015-08-28 10:13 pm UTC (link)
Merwyn's eyes widened but he giggled a little bit at the suggestion in Gwenog's tone, like a bad soap opera with the roles reversed. He took his seat at the spare table and watched her with a little concern, wondering if he should help her bring the drinks back after all but still reluctant to behave as though he thought she wasn't able to do anything herself; that was blatantly not the case but Merwyn tended to over-analyse things when he was trying to make friends.

She looked like she was dancing as she cut through the crowd like she could see a couple of seconds into the future and navigate through the clear spaces, or like a shark with the small fish getting out of the predator's way.

He'd knocked her chair out a little for her to take as she sat down but didn't get up and pull it out in case she took offense. He reached out and took his drink, pulling it close to him and sipping at it happily, nodding before he answered. "Yeah, especially now! I dunno where all my mates went, but I'm happy I met you! Oh, and thank you for the drink." he put his chin in his hand and his elbow on the tabletop, his finger playing with the glass rim and all of it absent minded. "How about you? Sorry if I'm cramping your style."

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[info]haveyoumet_
2015-08-28 11:47 pm UTC (link)
The giggle surprised her. It wasn't something she was especially prone to herself, even if she was rather less serious than she sometimes gave the impression of. She didn't comment on it however, just smiled faintly and got on with the drinks.

She appreciated that he'd pushed the chair out for her, it certainly made it easier not to spill anything. She'd probably have ended up looking far too elegant hooking it with her foot somehow by pure instinct and muscle memory. "You're welcome," she said, avoiding the driest tone in her arsenal by rather more than she'd been expecting. His effusive thanks seemed to be automatic.

"I just had a quiet evening with a pint. Watched the world go by. Cultivated my 'fuck off and leave me alone' face, and no that doesn't mean you need to go, I just wasn't in the mood to deal with press, morons or the general public. And aside from your decision to try and fly against healer's advice you don't fit any of those anyway. At least I hope you've not joined the various twats that this country calls journalists." She looked him over suspiciously, the invective at the word twats rather obvious.

"Honestly a woman has a little fun and you'd think I performed Unforgivables on half the ministry with the way they go on!" Sometimes the rigid attitudes of the more traditional parts of the wizarding world infuriated her with how much they still bled into the population in general.

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[info]fallasleep
2015-08-29 08:58 pm UTC (link)
Merwyn's nervous laughter had always been something that his old Captain Brevis Birch had commented on, although he still wasn't sure to this day if he'd meant those comments sweetly or with disgust. He barely realised he was doing it and the way Gwenog let it pass quietly by spoke volumes of the difference between her and Merwyn's one true flame.

She was also able to read Merwyn quite well because he had been about to ask if he should go as soon as she'd mentioned that she'd been trying to scare people away. He opened his mouth and closed it again as soon as she reassured him that it didn't apply in his case and his expression went from apologetic to sympathetic - he well understood the vulturous ripping beaks of the press. Her comment about his flying though did take the wind right out of his sails; he sat back in his chair, his face now somewhere between ashamed and almost grieving as he picked at nothing on the tabletop. It was only for a moment before he rallied himself and forced a smile on his face that was no different than his most common smile, which just went to show how rarely his smiles were true.

They had been true for seeing Gwenog though and he tried to remember that as they spoke. "I'd never be a journalist." he said emphatically. "I can understand reporting on the Quidditch scores and stuff but really, who actually gives a fuck about the personal lives of people they're never going to meet? Why do people even care enough to read that crap?" Even if most of the crap in his case had been true. "I think the way you live your life regardless of what they say is admirable." he said, another one of those compliments that weren't by the fact that it was the truth.

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[info]haveyoumet_
2015-08-29 10:33 pm UTC (link)
By no means was Gwenog Jones a body language expert, but then again there was no need to be when the reaction was quite so obvious. But he hadn't technically said anything about his obvious reaction to the topic of flying, and she wasn't here to play amateur psychologist, or berate him for his idiocy. She'd probably do the latter quite happily but that would likely only result in her losing her drinking companion.

"Sometimes I read the shit about me to see how much they got right," she said. She'd got a thick skin and the insults pissed her off more often than they hurt her. "Even interviews manage to get it wrong, which I think is bullshit." She curled her lip in disgust. "I mean, just because I decided that my body belongs to me and I get to choose what I do with it, whether that's enjoy wearing not many clothes, swear a lot, or having the audacity to have casual sex!" She'd raised her voice slightly at that last and stuck her middle finger up at the few people who looked over with exactly the sort of po-face she was imagining the journalists possessing.

"And this is why my publicists get pissed off with me," she said with a snort, stretching her legs out below the table. There may have been a time when her original publicists had refused to work with her any longer. "Thanks though. I decided it was my life and since I fly well a bit of a scandal wasn't going to stop me very easily."

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[info]fallasleep
2015-08-31 02:02 am UTC (link)
Merwyn was pleased to let the subject of his failed career and his idiotic expoits after that slip away in favour of their united hatred of the papparazzi. He was impressed she even read those things out of choice though; back when Merwyn was making the papers he felt like he had to read them, although how much of that was to stay updated with what was happening with his own case and how much was self-flagellation he wasn't sure. Brevis hadn't been speaking to him at that point and it was only the half-rumour, half-lie that the newspapers reported that told him anything.

"They don't even listen to you properly." he agreed about interviews, having sat through and read through enough to know that they already knew what they wanted to print, they just needed your presence with them at some point to give it some kind of credulity. Oh, and for photos. He raised an eyebrow as her volume raised but he was laughing, just happy at her bravery by the end of it, watching the way she gave the finger to anyone listening with the same kind of attitude the men who had originally developed the gesture had while doing so.

"If your publicists thought the way you do I bet it would make their jobs a lot easier, and put years back on their lives." he joked, sipping at his juice. "Nothing should matter except how well you fly. That's the important part, that's the part that matters. Not the people you sleep with or the things you wear." he agreed, a little morose but not enough to be a downer. He gave Gwenog a smile and lifted his glass a little. "To not giving a fuck about them!" he toasted.

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[info]haveyoumet_
2015-08-31 05:46 pm UTC (link)
She snorted inelegantly. "Shit, the only time they listen is when they're trying to trip you up. And don't even get me started on Skeeter. That woman's quill got broken more than once in my hands," she said, viciously pleased with that little victory, however short lived. It tended to come back and bite her as soon as the article came out, but even a temporary victory felt good.

"If my publicists thought like I did they wouldn't have jobs," she replied, amused. "Well, maybe. I doubt they could convince the whole wizarding world to change their minds at the same time," she said and shrugged. When he lifted his glass she lifted hers in response. "That one I can definitely drink to," she said, knocked the glasses together and smiled before she took a generous swig.

"Well, I'm fine with some people being concerned with my sex life, but generally only if they're part of it," she admitted.

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[info]fallasleep
2015-09-04 12:35 am UTC (link)
"Rita Skeeter is a fiction author." he said dismissively, and then grinned. "I've never been able to catch hold of one. Maybe if I'd played Seeker." he joked. He made a noise of disgust. "The whole wizarding world hsa the same IQ as a mob; the lowest one in the group divided by the number of people in that group - we're probably talking negative figures here." he said scathingly. He knew what it was like to have a legion of fans turn on you, threatening your property and your things and your very life.

He let their glasses tink together and likewise took a sip, the juice refreshing and cool and sobering him up a little more each time. He raised an eyebrow at Gwenog's comment. "I hope none of those people are journalists." he said, amused before adding. "Lucky people."

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[info]haveyoumet_
2015-09-04 07:48 pm UTC (link)
Gwenog smirked wickedly. "I got good at distracting her, mostly the quill still moves too fast, but I've been at this long enough that I've had a couple of lucky breaks. Those would be responsible for some of the more," she paused, choosing her words, "shall we say the more creative ways she impugned my character?" she said sarcastically. Said times had been downright lies as far as Gwenog was concerned, the worst parts of which had had her publicity people up in arms. Also legal action which didn't really do much. "At least a decent number of individuals manage to raise my opinion of the general idiocy once in a while." She definitely agreed, the insular nature of the wizarding world could really affect the population as a whole rather quickly.

"No journalists that I'm aware of," she said, considering her memories of her various partners. "Definitely not any from the wizarding world, but there might have been a muggle of course, not that they'd know who I was." She shrugged. Her longest relationship had of course been with a muggle, and she went to clubs in muggle cities thanks to a total lack in wizarding Britain. She'd heard his comment, and she was intrigued, and definitely interested. "Been a few Quidditch players though," she said, making the fact she was checking him out obvious. Not where she'd been expecting the evening to go, but damn if the idea didn't suddenly sound really good.

"And I'm the lucky one," she added with a smirk before taking a sip of her drink. They were too, of course.

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[info]fallasleep
2015-09-04 11:24 pm UTC (link)
Merwyn chuckled at Gwenog's prowess in the murders of all those irritating quills, even though they died off as she reminded him of the total slander in that rag of a paper sometimes. "I can't believe she gets away with it. Anyone with even the whiff of celebrity about them must have been slandered by her by now; surely one of those lawsuits has to stick." he grumbled, angry on Gwenog's behalf more than his own now.

He cocked a half grin at her reminiscing, surprised that she'd gone outside the Wizarding world for companionship although he supposed it made sense. He could definitely emphasise with the desire to be just another body out there rather than someone who people could identify; anonymity was a solid reason for travelling outside Wizarding Britain.

He couldn't withstand her flirting back at him even though he'd found it easier to bed somoene before now. He supposed he was just completely in awe of her a little and that was holding him back. "Ex-Quidditch players?" he asked, another question clearly behind that one. "I think anyone you pick would be counted the lucky one." he said with a laugh in his voice. "Should consider themselves lucky definitely."

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[info]haveyoumet_
2015-09-05 10:35 am UTC (link)
"She's been less heinous more recently, but I still wouldn't trust her as far as I could... I'd say throw her but I'm strong. Kick her maybe?" That was also a terrible comparison given how strong her legs were, more so than might be expected, but it worked. "Sadly the Prophet has good lawyers. And Skeeter's slippery. I'd admire it if it wasn't directed so maliciously." She recalled something about Harry Potter before the war which suggested he might have had a little luck there, but mostly people didn't.

Her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip and she smiled. Just where she wanted him. Or almost. "Not while they've been ex-Quidditch players," she mused. Her breath was coming a little shorter and she considered how exactly to play this. He was clearly willing, and rather more sober thanks to the juice too, she thought. "I think you might just be changing your luck," she said, voice dropping as one of her hands dropped below the table and found his thigh. She let her hand brush against it, keeping near to his knee for now. Above the table she nonchalantly sipped at her juice, although her eyes never left him. "If you'd like it to, of course." The opportunity for refusal was always open. He could pull away from her, or just plain say no, it was no skin off her nose.

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[info]fallasleep
2015-09-05 09:30 pm UTC (link)
Merwyn giggled again at the idea of Gwenog punting Skeeter miles away with one kick; it was made all the more funny because he thought it was possible. "I would pay money to see you boot her." he assured, then making a sound of exasperation. "You'd think they'd fire her already, she only makes the whole rag sound like a pack of lies. Not to say it isn't, but firing her could help them hide it better."

He paused with his glass halfway to his mouth at the predatory flick of her tongue, lowering the glass back to the table instead of drinking from it. He had to hold back a little mew of noise as her hand reached his thigh and then hovered around his knee, his eyes wide in surprise but his pupils blown. "I'd like it to." he confirmed, astounded that she'd even think of him like that on top of being starstruck but still managing to give her a saucy grin.

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[info]haveyoumet_
2015-09-05 11:01 pm UTC (link)
"Sadly there's a slavering mass who like to read about the dramatic downfall of people in the public eye," she said, curling her lip in disgust. Prior becoming famous she'd been part of the mass herself sometimes. Since then she'd rather lost the taste for it. "I tend to assume most journalism is a load of shit these days. Especially if the Prophet is involved."

The fact she'd brought him up short was attractive as hell and when he confirmed he was interested she smiled. A far less smirking and more genuine version than she often displayed. "Drink up, you'll need your energy," she said, even has her hand came to rest on his leg, thumb drawing random sweeping patterns. She casually finished her own drink, scratching her short nails slightly along his leg as she stood. "I'll be outside," she said, leaning in as if saying goodbye. Somehow she doubted she'd be waiting very long.

She made her way easily out of the pub using the same method as earlier and leaned casually against the wall.

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[info]fallasleep
2015-09-22 09:20 pm UTC (link)
Merwyn had to concentrate very hard on finishing his drink after that comment, more dumbstruck than he ever was when he was picking someone up or being picked up. He wasn't usually hit on this subtly and he never agreed to go home with any girls, but Gwenog was a different matter entirely. If Gwenog Jones asked you into bed there was only one answer to give her. The warm weight of her hand on his leg made his thoughts seem to come to a crashing halt and he sipped his drink down while watching her over the rim of his glass, eyes dark and still shocked.

When she got up and left he was finally able to breathe, finish his drink in one slam and then follow her outside like a lost puppy, although his exit from the pub was a lot less graceful than hers. He spied her leaning up against the wall and came up to her with a slightly nervous smile, reaching out and then sweetly, almost tentatively, taking her hand in his. "Miss Jones." he greeted playfully.

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[info]haveyoumet_
2015-09-22 10:19 pm UTC (link)
Slightly flustered was a good look on him and she contemplated it as she leaned against the wall of the pub waiting for him to arrive. He prediction was correct. She didn't wait long. Then there was a hand sliding into hers. That wasn't something she'd expected, although it was sweet. Far sweeter than many of the people she took home with her.

She reached out and traced a finger slowly along his jawline from under one ear to the centre of his chin, smiling slightly indulgently. "My place or yours?" she asked. She took people back to her London flat fairly regularly, both muggle and magical. The magical ones she took care to take in via rooftop apparition though since it was warded to that people could only arrive that way if she was with them. The muggles she didn't have to worry about getting up to idiocy related to her fame. Plus apparition wasn't an option for them. The house in Wales was somewhere she rarely allowed other people to visit if they weren't family or her muggle neighbours.

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[info]fallasleep
2015-09-22 11:00 pm UTC (link)
Merwyn held still and let Gwenog touch him as she wanted, pliant but not passive, obedient and submissive without checking out. He swallowed hard as his mouth was suddenly dry, anticipation and nervousness colliding, and the latter not in regards to performance but rather because he wasn't sure he was worth this. He didn't think he could be enough, be good enough, for Gwenog Jones; she had chosen him though, of all the people she could have spoken to and she didn't have to ask him if he wanted to come back to hers. Or his. Whichever. He had to trust in that and hope he didn't let her down, waste her time, make her regret her decision.

"Wherever you'd be most comfortable." he offered. "My place is clean." he reassured. "But really, whatever you'd like." He lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to her knuckles that was almost chaste before dropping them down again, still linked and happy for the connection.

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[info]haveyoumet_
2015-09-22 11:57 pm UTC (link)
"Mine," she said decisively. That way she knew where everything was. The gentleness of the kiss was unexpected, and yet somehow it was fitting with what she'd seen of him so far this evening.

"I'll apparate us," she said, tilting her wrist slightly to indicate it was more than enough of a connection. She gave Merwyn enough time to assimilate the information before she actually appparated them, arriving on the small terrace at her flat with the whisper of the wards brushing against her skin as they accepted her presence. She pulled out her wand and unspelled the doors.

"There are so many things I'd love to do, but first, can I kiss you?" she asked. Not everyone wanted that when it was casual. Some people found it too intimate. She did on occasion, but usually she enjoyed it. She wanted to discuss boundaries with him too. Ask what he wanted. But this first. Kissing under what limited night could be sought under the orange glow of city life.

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[info]fallasleep
2015-09-28 10:55 pm UTC (link)
Gwenog was like the thunderstorm to Merwyn's reed; she stated how things would be, what she wanted, and Merwyn just bowed easily under the majestic force of her will. Okay, so he had leanings towards the Submissive side anyway, but Gwenog was a Valkyrie and Merwyn couldn't help but give her power over if he would 'die or live', so to speak. Still, getting to know her a little better as they'd sat down to drink had showed him someone who was confident and self-assured, wickedly funny and free in a way that he didn't think he could be anymore; maybe some part of him wondered if she could bring him close to that again.

He had issues with Apparition sometimes and was supposed to avoid it in case he had an attack of cataplexy halfway through and ended up Splinched, but he hadn't had any issues with being Sidealonged, not yet anyway. He had to swallow hard when they arrived though, the alcohol he'd had before suddenly reminding him that it was still there, but he managed not to throw up all over Gwenog's feet and it settled down again.

Her house was beautiful and he looked around it with unabashed awe, his hand still clasping hers. He giggled again at the prickle of the wards but held still until she'd spelled everything safe and then she surprised him with her question. She looked beautiful as well, even in the hum of light pollution around them, the promise in her words making his pupils dilate a bit more. Merwyn loved kissing, although it was sometimes a bad idea for him; he tended to read too much into it in the moment and ended up connecting too firmly to people who didn't care about seeing him in the morning, or ever after that. He couldn't help himself though and he nodded with a briefly murmured 'don't have to ask', turning to face Gwenog properly and leaning up to kiss her, his free hand going to curl gently around one of her long braids.

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[info]haveyoumet_
2015-10-02 10:06 pm UTC (link)
She was pleased when he responded to her request. Didn't quite give her the time to say she really did have to ask, but then she was caught up in the moment of lips brushing against each other. She reached one hand up, fingers brushing above his ear and into his hair, hand cupping his head, even as the kiss turned from soft and exploring to something a tiny bit more insistent.

Licking teasingly along Merwyn's bottom lip she pulled back with a little noise of protest at her own actions. "C'mon, come inside," she said, the hand that had been sat loosely just above his waist slipping sideways to tug gently at his wrist and then dropped it, trusting that he'd follow her. It was the work of seconds to let the rest of the wards down and she led the way down the steps from the terrace and into the flat proper. "Welcome," she said, turning towards him and gesturing around the room.

Glancing at the kitchen Gwenog wondered if she should make them coffee. He'd definitely been pretty tipsy or more when they ran into one another. But she'd definitely had drunker sex before now. Her body was thrumming with the heady combination of desire and discoveries to come. She wondered if he'd make a move if she just stood here waiting. Dipping her gaze to the floor she slowly brought her eyes up his narrow frame, wondering what he wanted. What she might want too. So many ideas presented themselves.

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[info]fallasleep
2015-10-05 10:21 pm UTC (link)
Merwyn made a sound on the cusp of audible, a little whisper of encouragement when Gwenog's hand went to the back of his head, pushing into his hair like that. He yielded obediently to the insistence of her mouth on his but was left mournful and bereft when she pulled back, his face flushed and his breathing already catching. He smiled at her though and followed her loyally, as though there was any doubt that he'd follow her in.

He liked the small, if brief, touch of her hand around his wrist and as focused as he was on her, he couldn't help being distracted by the interior of the house. He looked around unabashed and unashamed of his awe, impressed by the space and the sleek lines that still managed to be warm and welcoming. "Your house is lovely!" he enthused earnestly, his wide eyes scanning the kitchen and coming to rest on Gwenog where an entirely different look came into his eyes.

She looked him up like he was for sale and she was going to buy him and all that made him feel was an electric shiver of need. He licked his lips, his mouth dry, and took a few steps towards her before stopping; he was hesitant in his movements but not from uncertainty, more like he couldn't believe he was here and was certain he wasn't worthy enough to touch her. He felt like that about a lot of the people he slept with in actuality, but the difference was all the more stark here, a fellow (once-fellow) Quidditch player, a woman, someone self possessed and confident and stunning against his own washed out insecurity.

He felt like a mouse before a cat, or an incest about to be pinned to a piece of card and he felt more than the faint stirrings of arousal fight the alcohol in his system. He reached a hand to where hers had been on his wrist and rubbed his thumb against it like he could still feel her grip there, something pleasant crawling up his spine.

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