#i would be so chill about this if we weren’t getting more engagement photos taken tomorrow like. PLS

[johndonneswife]

[httphopewrld]

I Don’t Know What to Call This | (f/m/a)

Just Friends? Friends with benefits? Dating? Questions swarmed your mind when one of your dear friends, Allie, asked about you and Hoseok’s relationship. The truth was you didn’t know. You and Hoseok were close, knowing each other since elementary school, and considered each other friends. However, as you two grew older, maturing into separate professions—you a well-known fashion designer, and Hoseok a famous musician and dancer—you two had engaged in some intimate activities (sex—lots of it.) After Allie’s simple question, you had to confront your feelings. But were you and Hoseok ready to be more than close friends and f*ck buddies?

Pairing: friend/lover/bfhoseok! x female reader

Genre: slowburn fluff and SMUT

Rating: 18+ because there’s swearing and pretty detailed smut

Warnings: swearing and SMUT (one of the most detailed smuts I've written, and there's more than one sex scene.) Smut includes: switch!reader and switch!hoseok, grinding and thrusting, protective sex (USE CONDOMS, I cannot stress that enough), lots of kissing, ass-grabbing, dirty talk, a wee bit of choking on both sides, squirting, male and female oral, fingering and handjobs, vibrator use, cyber-sex, the reader uses dildo, slight degradation, and just lots of filth—YOU'RE WELCOME FELLOW FILTHY ANIMALS. Oh, and spoilers for the horror movie Hush. It's on Netflix if you haven't watched it yet. It is GOOD.

  Word Count: 16, 465 (wowie)

A/N: Thank you for waiting! It’s rushed, so expect some little mistakes here an there, but I’m happy with how it turned out. I hope y'all enjoy it! Also, Y/L/N means "your last name."

  Taglist: @kirbykook​ @kleritata​ @taestannie​ @jenotation​ @hemmos-obrien​ @zeharilisharaban​ @speed-of-wind​ @kawaisoraya​

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

“You can move those over there,” you gestured to the left corner of the windowed room, where a pile of boxes waited. The move was going to take longer than you expected because the movers arrived a week later than your assistant, Rachel said. I really need to talk to her about this. You stressed in your mind, rubbing your temples. “Are you okay?” You looked up, vision resuming its focus on your friend, Allie. Allie, your friend for as long as you could remember, offered to help you move to your new building. She would help you manage everything, including the movers, tracking your company's items, and the layout you gave to her for said things while managing the company. “I’m just irritated at Rachel,” you noticed her confusion, “my new assistant.” She nodded, remembering, “Right. Why is she still employed?” “Because she’s new, and being an assistant is a tough feat. She’ll get it soon.” You reassured, “Rachel is a fast learner, and this is her first mistake. We’re prepared for the next show, though, because Westley's helping me organize it.” “Remind me who Westley is?” Allie asked. You sighed. “West is like my second brain. He helps organize the fashion shows, hire the models, find the venues, and secure the guest list. He has other people help him too, but he’s the brains of that. I create the fashion, and he finds a way to present it.” Allie nodded, “Gotcha.” Your phone rang, and you answered. “Y/N.” “Y/N!” Rachel chimed on the other end. “It’s Rachel. I’m so sorry about the mix-up on dates. It won’t happen again, I—” “I know it won’t, Rachel. You’re new, so I expected to slip up. I’ve gotten it taken care of,” you nudged Allie’s arm, and she smiled. “We’re luckily prepared for the next show in Vancouver, so you don’t have to worry about the mess up. All I need you to do now is make sure that my fabrics are coming in.” “Yes! They’ve arrived at the studio.” Rachel replied. "Fantastic. Thank you. That'll be all for now. Check on West if he needs anything." You ordered. “Will do, Y/N. Talk to you soon.” You hung up. The Vancouver show was in five months, giving you and your team enough time to design the clothes for the production and move to the new building. The show's theme was natural bodies of water and nature, a nod to Canada's landscape. The clothing catalogue would include various icy blue shades to represent waterfalls and warm emerald tones like flora and fauna. These colours would be encapsulated in elegant gowns and suits, worn by different body shapes, genders, and colours. The materials would be made from recycled fabrics from your previous shows and from your fellow artists. You were known for designing elegant attire, so it was best to keep to it. However, it was rare to see different sized, coloured, and gendered models on a runway; because of having to customize clothes to those models. Additionally, making clothes from recycled fabrics would be tough. “Okay,” you began, “I need to talk to my design team and plan out the gowns. Can I leave you here to deal with the movers?” Allie gave you a thumbs up. “Thank you,” you smiled, hugging her, “if you need anything, please call me or Rachel, or both. We’ll be back to help.” Before you left, a thought struck you. You turned around to face Allie. “I should just hire you.” She chuckled, “Why?” You scoffed, "Because you're here all the time!" You walked back to her. "Listen, you're the best manager I know. You can be my third brain. You already are, outside of work, so it would make sense." Allie seemed unsure. “I already have my job at Youth and Hope.” You grasped her hands. “You would be given a great wage, not just because you’re my best friend, but because you’re going to be busy with lots of work. You would be handling the management tasks, like West. You’d be given a good amount of vacation, trips for shows and meetings would be paid for—you could get that loft you always wanted downtown.” You wiggled your eyebrows, and Allie laughed. “Don’t I have to go through an interview process?” You brushed a hand through the air. “I can get someone to interview you and officially hire you. Once that’s done, you’ll start getting paid.” You checked your watch, and a quick rush of panic ran through you. “Shit, I’m going to be late. Consider it, alright! Let me know your availability, and we’ll schedule an interview!” “Okay!” She shouted back as you left. . . The coffee had become bitter. You weren’t sure if it was the roast or the fact that this was your fourth cup of the night. It had been a month since the fabrics arrived. Thanks to Allie, your friend and now employee, your move to the new building was complete; however, your designs weren’t translating as smoothly as you wish. "Fuck," you cursed, resting your head in your hands and rubbing your temples. The sketches waited in front of you—the measurements and ideas raking at your confidence. Your designs are redundant. You’ve done something similar last time.                                                                       Boring. Plain. You turned back to your mannequins, still bare. The theme was in your mind, and your design team reassured you that your sketches were fine, but it all felt fuzzy. “Y/N,” Rachel peered into the studio from the door, “there’s a gentleman here to see you.” “His name?” You asked, still looking at the mannequins. You heard footsteps retreat into the front lobby, then come back to the door. “Jung Hoseok?” You turned around, trying to contain your excitement. “Please send him in.” Rachel nodded, jogging back to the lobby. You heard a muffled “thank you” before heavy footsteps approaching your studio. Hoseok reached the doorway, beaming his signature smile. He wore acid-washed jeans, a baggy white sweater that matched his chunky light sneakers. His dark hair was slightly wavy and parted in the middle. A tote bag was slung over his shoulder. “Y/N!” He cheered, opening his arms wide. “Hoseok!” You replied, running into his arms and hugging him tightly. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Hoseok—a year or two? “Fuck, how long has it been?” You asked him. He pulled away, thinking. “About six months?” Totally off. “Seriously, it felt longer than that.” You argued. Hoseok pulled out his phone and scrolled through his calenderer and photos. He made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Ah, see here,” he showed you a few photos of you two with his friends, who were also his bandmates, “six months ago, you joined us on tour for a couple days before coming back here. I have it also marked in my calendar.” He showed you the dates, which were marked with ‘💚Y/N’s visit💚.’ “Can Namjoon or Yoongi confirm this?” You crossed your arms. Hoseok mimicked your body language. “I can call them right now,” he challenged. You two stood in competitive tension. You succumbed. “You win this time, Jung Hoseok.” He playfully chuckled. You realized that Hoseok doesn’t live around here. “Wait, why are you in town. Shouldn’t you and the others be in Korea planning another album or something?” You speculated. “Our company gave us a month for vacation because we spent most of the year touring.” Hoseok sighed. “So, I decided to come to visit.” You hugged him again, happy to see someone who wasn’t your employee amidst this chaos of stress. “How long are you staying?” You asked, muffled against his chest. He paused. “Maybe a month?” You pulled away from him, shocked. “A month? Here? That’s all your vacation time.” “Yeah,” he replied, as if that wasn’t a big deal, “I didn’t want to travel to a bunch of places because the group and I have been doing that for almost a year—and it’s pretty chill in this area.” He sighed. “Besides, I don’t think many people would recognize me. The airport wasn’t busy, and I haven’t been swarmed by fans yet.” “Do you have a place to stay?” You asked. He nodded. “Yup! I’m staying at a fancy hotel. I got the suite at the top floor,” he made a gesture with his hand, indicating how high up his suite was. You playfully elbowed his side. "Wow, look at you, Mr. Famous. You can afford a top suite now. Are you sure you don't want to stay with me, though?” Hoseok dismissed your offer with a wave of his hand. “It’s alright, Y/N. Thank you, though.” He peered over your shoulder, “It looks like you’re busy anyway, so I think I’ll just stick to my suite.” He walked past you, over to the bare mannequins. “Are you preparing for that show in Vancouver that you told me about?” You nodded, relaying your theme and ideas to him. He smiled. “That sounds really cool,” he pointed to the mannequins, “but don’t you need some clothes for the show, then?” You rolled your eyes, chuckling at him for being a smart ass. “Yes, I do. I’m brainstorming some ideas right now, but I’m coming up with nothing. I have the design team coming in tomorrow with drafts, but I’d like to bring my own thing to the table, you know? I’m the main brain of this operation, and it’d be embarrassing if I come in with zilch.” You leaned against one of the tables, facing the mannequins. "The tough part is designing gowns that fit the right people, you know. Sure, you can make a collection of clothes, but they won't look good if they don't fit the models." You shook your head. "Maybe it's just tougher to design clothes for different bodies. I should just stick to one type of person and leave it at that." Hoseok walked up beside you, leaning against the same table and facing the figures. “Why don’t you find the models and then design the clothes?” You looked at him, surprised. “But wouldn’t that take a long time?” He crossed his arms, “Well, how many models would you need?” “We’re thinking around seventy. There’s going to be two changes within the show.” Hoseok nodded, and you could see him brainstorming. “Well, you have four months left, right? You and your team can make some drafts, cast the models, and finalize the ideas with said models. Which would take about a couple of months? You could do that while planning the show?” He paused, appearing to notice your hesitant expression. “Think about it. You’ve trained your team well enough to work on its own, right? That’s what you did for your last show, which was a success. You came in every day for a couple hours to make sure everything was in order, then focused on other things.” Hoseok grasped your hands. “You’re great at multitasking, so do it. It’s scary, but you can check on people every day to make sure everything’s alright.” You bit your lip, “I-I don’t know, Hoseok. That sounds like a lot of work—” “You did it last time, and it worked out just fine,” he gently squeezed your hands, “and I’m here for a month. I can help out whenever you need me. I’ll simply clean things up and fetch coffee if that’s what you need.” You laughed, “Like my intern?” “Yeah! I don’t know how to design anything or plan a fashion show, but I’ll do what I can.” He smiled. “You’re so much more than you think, Y/N, and if you need reminders, I’ll be here.” You smiled back at him, so grateful to have him here. “My god, you’re fucking sweet,” you scoffed, taking your hands out of his. Hoseok laughed. You pushed yourself off the table and faced him. “How did we even become friends?” You questioned. He actually gave it a thought. “You joined by dance club in elementary school, when no one else would.” He laughed so hard that he teared up. “I think we actually took club photos, and it was only you and I posing.” You laughed with him, remembering those days spent trying to breakdance to hip hop and presenting dance routines to your parents. “Yeah, that was before you joined that Music Academy in grade four, right?” He nodded, and you sighed, surprised you still remembered. Your mind came back to the present. “So, you’re actually okay with helping out?” You checked. “Why would I ask if I didn’t want to?” Hoseok replied. You tapped your index finger against your temple, “true.” “So, how much do you want?” Hoseok looked offended at your question. You chuckled. “Well, you’re going to work for me, so I need to pay you.” “It’s only just a month, though.” “Yeah, but—” “What about we see how much you have me do before you pay me?” He interrupted. “I might just have to fetch coffee, so you can just give me money on the spot.” You thought about it for a minute. Hoseok yawned. “This work talk is making me tired. Do you want to go out for dinner?” He looked around you, “Unless you have more work to do. I can always wait in the lobby for you to finish.” You brushed your hand through the air, “Nah, it’s okay. I’m pretty brain dead anyway. I need to be energized for tomorrow’s draft review.” Hoseok pushed himself off the table and clapped. “Awesome! Where do you think I’m taking you for dinner?” You bit your lip, trying to guess. “Sushi?” “Sushi it is!” He beamed. You grabbed your things and followed him out of the studio.

Both of you sat towards the back of the sushi restaurant, to Hoseok’s request. The waitress placed you two in a concealed booth, with drapes covering a small entrance.

You two had to take your shoes off before sitting down.

“Why did you say, ‘sushi it is?’” You asked, taking a sip of your water.

Hoseok opened his can of sprite, “What do you mean?”

“You asked where I thought you were taking me, I responded, and you said, ‘sushi it is!’” You reiterated.

He took a sip of his soda before responding, "It's a trick I learned from Instagram." He set his drink down. "You ask someone, 'where do you think I'm taking you for food?' dinner or whatever, and then take them to a place with that food. It's easier than asking 'what do you want to eat?' because people can't decide."

You nodded, making an ‘aaahhh’ sound. “Smart.”

You two caught up while eating your meals. Hoseok chatted about his bandmates and the tour, and you talked about your move to the new building.

Most of it was just adding more details about your lives because you two texted lots during the week and sometimes video chatted. You'd get to see Hoseok and his friends, and he'd get a view of your life on the other side of the world.

To others, it looked like both of you were dating. Both of your friends would tease, singing, "Y/N and Hoseok sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G." Many of his fans, ARMY, would theorize your friendship, pointing out the matching bracelets you two wore—which was later proved normal because Hoseok went live on Vlive making bracelets for his bandmates.

And you two would continually clarify that you two were strictly long-time friends. Nothing more.

Girls and boys can be friends. Simple as that.

You and Hoseok finished your meals. You two shared a few rolls and a bento box and were full.

“That was really good.” You commented, rubbing your stomach.

Hoseok chuckled, copying you, “I think I’m pregnant.”

You laughed, “Shut up! You’re so fit.”

“You’re right,” he replied, pulling up his sleeves and flexing his arms.

You both laughed as he flexed his muscles, which were significantly more prominent than your remembered. You were slightly jealous of his lean athletic figure.

And were gazing at it for too long.

“I don’t know about you,” Hoseok sighed, appearing to be tired from the food and flexing his muscles, “but I’m in the mood for some Ben and Jerry’s.”

Your eyes lit up. “YES.”

“Cookie dough with chunks?” You both said in unison.

You two erupted in laughter.

"I'll go play," Hoseok said, getting up.

You stopped him, “It’s alright,” you smiled, “my treat.”

Before you left the booth, you turned around and said thoughtfully, "But you're getting the ice cream."

Hoseok's expression conveyed the same seriousness as if a soldier on a mission.

He saluted you. “Copy that, Y/N.”

You saluted him back and left to pay.

The walk to Ben and Jerry’s was quick. Both of you were eager to share the tub of ice cream.

You ended up getting a chocolate chip cookie dough and a cherry Garcia pint, and two spoons to share. You both ate the ice creams with delight while walking back to your apartment building.

When arriving at your building, Hoseok handed you the cookie dough ice cream pint.

“What are you doing?” You asked while he gave you the closed pint.

He tilted his head to the side, confused. “What do you mean? I’m dropping you off at your place.”

You gave a shocked expression. “Dropping me off? We’re not even done our pints!”

“But you have work tomorrow. I don’t want to keep you up.” Hoseok stepped back towards the edge of the sidewalk. “I can catch a cab back to the hotel, don’t worry.”

You balanced the pints in one hand and used your other to grab his arm.

“You’re not going anywhere,” you said, pulling away from the curb and closer to your building.

Hoseok pulled his arm out of your grip. "Y/N, you need to be well-rested—"

“At least help me finish the ice cream.” You interrupted, holding up the pints that were now in both your hands, along with your spoon.

“We haven’t seen each other six months, and it’s only…”

Hoseok pulled out his phone. “Nine.”

“Exactly!” You expressed. “It’s only nine. I don’t need to be in until nine-thirty tomorrow morning. As long as you’re out by eleven, that gives me an hour to get ready for bed at twelve, and I will wake up at eight. Plenty of rest!”

You watched his unsure expression.

"If you don't want to go home at eleven, that's fine by me. Could you leave earlier? Or you can go back to your hotel if you want. I won't take offence; you know me." You held up your arms in surrender, ice cream pints still in your hands. "But if you're leaving because you're worried that I won't get enough sleep, don't. I'm a grown woman. I know how to take care of myself, and I want you to come in.

Hoseok bit his lip, appearing to debate the offer.

He sighed. "Fine, I'll come in. However, I don't want to get a text from you complaining about being tired in the morning."

“I swear,” you promised, pretending to draw an ‘x’ over your heart, “I cross my heart.”

Hoseok chuckled, and you led the two of you into your apartment building and into the elevator. You pressed the twentieth button, and you two waited in comfortable silence.

The elevator doors opened, and you two walked to your apartment.

You opened the door to your studio apartment, locking the door behind you two and hanging up your bag along with your keys.

“Want anything to drink?” You asked, setting down the ice cream pint in your hand and taking off your coat.

Hoseok set down the cookie dough pint on the coffee table. “Anything is alright, thanks,”

You hummed, getting both of you bottles of black cherry soda and bringing over the cherry Garcia pint and your spoon.

"Jesus, do you need help?" Hoseok asked with worry, seeing you holding the bottles by their necks in one hand and the ice cream pint and spoon in the other.

You chuckled, “It’s alright, just sit down.”

You two sat on the couch, twisting off the caps on your sodas and taking a sip.

Hoseok sighed. “That’s really good,” he gestured to the pop before putting it down on the coffee table.

“Yeah! They’re so addictive,” you replied, setting coasters under both of your drinks.

Both of you continued to reminisce about your childhood, especially middle school. The puberty years had been gruesome to you two, speckling your faces with acne.

You pulled out a photo album you kept on one of your bookshelves, which had pictures of your families and your younger selves—even photos when Hoseok was training, before debuting with BTS in 2013.

“Oh my god, look at you!” You gasped, showing him a picture.

In the photo, Hoseok arms were crossed over his chest, his attempt at having swagger. He wore a collared shirt, and his hair was short.

“Oh god, no,” Hoseok cringed, gently pushing the photo away.

You chuckled, "You were so adorable, always dancing and having a good time." You smiled. "You are such a hard worker, practicing so much. I remember you twisting your ankle but still practicing."

You looked at him tenderly. “I wish people could see that.”

Hoseok smiled back at you, softly touching your hand. You grasped his hand, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

He was the first to pull away.

“You remember our sleepovers?” He asked.

You giggled, "Yeah when you could leave that cramped place you shared with the boys."

He swatted your arm, “That apartment was good! It was where everything started.” He pouted. “Anyways, we would always look up deep questions to ask each other—or would you rather.”

You rolled your eyes. “Those questions were overrated.”

“I thought they were nice!” Hoseok defended. “We got to know each other more, like, ‘what is your biggest fear?’ or ‘what is your biggest pet peeve?’”

He must've seen your unimpressed expression because he continued, "You got to admit that you learned a bit more about me because of those questions!"

You sighed. “I did, I guess.”

Hoseok held up his index finger, seeming to signal ‘wait a minute.’

He pulled out his phone. “Let’s try some now, then.”

“Hoseok—”

“Come on,” he interrupted. “If you don’t learn anything new about me from the first four questions we do, then we can stop, alright? I will never bring up these questions ever again.”

You debated his offer.

“Fine.” You agreed, setting down the photo album. “Shoot.”

“Okay, but we both pick two questions and answer all of them. For example, when we ask a question, the other person answers before the picker.” Hoseok said while he scrolled.

You hummed, understanding his instructions.  

“Want to do would you rather?”

“Sure.”

"Sexy edition?" Hoseok wiggled his eyebrows. "Unless you're uncomfortable."

You scoffed. “Hobi, we're grown, adults. I can take a few sexual questions."

“Okay,” Hoseok replied, “but if you ever feel uncomfortable, we can choose another question or stop.”

You nodded, and Hoseok appeared to find what he was looking for.

“Alright,” he began, “would you rather bite someone’s ear during sex or bite someone’s lip during sex?”

This is pretty vanilla. You thought.

"Lip, for sure." You emphasized the 'sure' in your sentence, stringing along with the 'er' sound.

“Same,” Hoseok agreed while passing you his phone.

You took his cell and strolled through the website.

What do I choose? Do I just dive in, or go for the vanilla shit?

“Would you rather engage in foreplay or go right into the main course?” You asked.

Hoseok thought about it. “I would say foreplay. You can warm things up—and nothing is more fun than teasing.” He shimmied, making you two laugh.

You agreed, passing the phone to him.

“Oooo, here’s a classic,” he grinned, “top or bottom?”

“I think I’m a switch,” you replied.

He tilted his head.

“It’s like, you’re both, top and bottom. I like to take control sometimes, but I can also sub.” You explained. “You?”

“Top,” he replied, “for sure.”

You laughed, “You sound so against being a bottom.”

He laughed too. “I like pleasuring the person I’m having sex with. Nothing is more satisfying than making someone cum.”

“True,” you admitted.

You found your mind wandering to unholy memories of you and Hoseok. What was odd about your friendship that—to put it blatantly—you two had sex. Not just once, but a few times.

This is why asking these questions was pretty casual and not too surprising.

You two started engaging in sex a couple years ago. You were stressed about your company starting, and Hoseok was in town. He offered to help you relax, and before you knew it, he was drilling into you from behind.

Both of you agreed to stay friends but continued to have sex every now and then. It was great, you had to admit. Probably the best sex you had in your life, and it was good that you two were able to keep your friendship platonic at the same time. Only, it was sex without the romantic feelings.

To be honest, you were craving it again.

He passed you his phone again, and you tried to pick a good last question.

“Would you rather kiss me gently or kiss me aggressively?” You asked.

Hoseok paused before answering. “Depends on the mood.”

“Well, at this moment, then, what is the mood?”

You watched Hoseok’s eyes shift between your lips then your eyes.

“Aggressively.”

You hummed. “Good to know.” You passed him back his phone. “Last question.”

Hoseok chuckled, “You seriously didn’t learn anything new?”

You shrugged. “I guess not.”

He didn't seem bothered, though, when his body shifted closer to yours.

When he looked back up at you, his expression changed. Although his eyes were already an opaque shade of brown, they had darkened.

I know that look.

He smirked. “Would you rather make the first move or receive the first move?”

You bit your lip, gazing up at his body.

Before you could reconnect with his eyes, you heard his phone drop, and his lips were on yours.

Just like his answer, his kisses were aggressive and needy. You could taste the cherry cola and ice cream on his lips and mouth.

You pulled his face closer, wanting more.

Hoseok’s body language opened up, allowing you to get up and straddle his lap. You felt his hands inch up your shirt and tug at the fabric. He helped you take it off, which gave him access to your breasts.

You felt him undo your bra with a quick flick of his fingers, and you tossed it off without a care.

Hoseok let out a chuckle before claiming your lips with his.

His lips were intoxicating, and you wanted more.

“Please touch me,” you begged against his lips.

He hummed, grazing his hands down your back before roughly grabbing your ass. You moaned, and he held you against him, hard enough to feel him grind into you.

“Fuck, stop teasing,” you pulled away, and he laughed.

“Baby, I’m not teasing,” he smirked.

Baby. The term of endearment made your heart swoon.

You weren’t always this infatuated by Hoseok. But the way he came to visit you during his break, had dinner and ice cream with you, and kissed you this good—it made you want more than just a fling.

But you couldn't think that way. It was sex. You two were doing this to get off, not engage in lovemaking.

Hoseok swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, eyeing your figure. “You know what I want.”

You ran your hand up and down his chest. “What are you waiting for?”

Hoseok's hands came underneath your thighs, and he picked you up, walking you to your bedroom. He used your body to close the door, slamming you against it.

He ground himself against your core, causing you to moan louder than you expected.

You covered your mouth in embarrassment.

Hoseok chuckled, “It’s okay,” he pulled away enough to graze his thumb over your cheek, “I love it when you moan.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing him and grabbing his ass, causing him to grind on your core.

"Fuck, I can practically feel that you wet," he groaned, trying his best to hold you up and sturdy you against the door.

“B-bed,” you choked, one of his particular thrusts stroking perfectly against you.  

Hoseok moved you towards your bed and gingerly placed you down. He kissed down your bare chest and slowly took off your pants and underwear.

“Fuck, your perfect,” Hoseok awed, softly running a finger through your wet heat.

His cold finger sent a wave of pleasure through you, making you flinch.

Hoseok hummed. “So wet for me,”

He looked up at you. “May I?”

You nodded, but he only smirked.

“Words, baby,” he put a hand to his ear.

“Please,” you bit down on your lip.

You felt him spread your lips, and you clenched in response. He appeared to savour you, taking his time as he ate you out.

When you moaned, he’d hum, sending vibrations into your heat that brought you closer to your climax.

“Fuck, I’m close—”

He pulled away, licking his lips and gazing down at you.

“Hoseok—”

“You taste better than I remembered,” he commented. “But I want you to cum around me.”

God, I love his dirty talk.

You watched him take off his clothes. He must've been working out because he was more toned than six months ago.

He was about to line himself up with your entrance, but you stopped him with your foot on his chest.

You smirked. “Not yet, baby.”

You stood up. “Sit.”

Hoseok sat on the bed, your roles shifting.

“But I want—”

You interrupted his beg with your hand around his erect cock. He appeared to be speechless as you run your hand up and down his shaft.

“Hm?” You asked, chuckling lightly at how easy it was to make him submit. “What do you want, baby?”

“I-I wanted,” he stuttered, thrusting slightly into your hand, “to cum inside you.”

“Is that so?” You questioned, pulling your hand away.

Despite his vocalized want, he whined when you pulled away.

“I’m only doing what my baby wants,” you shrugged. “Condoms are in the bottom drawer on the right.”

Hoseok dashed over to the bedside table, rummaging for the condoms.

“Those should fit you, right?”

"Yes," he replied, opening the familiar wrapper and unravelling it on his erect member.  

He stood there for a minute, wrapped penis and naked, just fondly looking at your nude figure.

He whispered something under his breath.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” Hoseok blushed. “You still want to fuck?”

“Yes.”

“Top or bottom?”

“Top please,” you smiled.

Hoseok laid down on your bed, and you climbed onto his torso.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he cursed as you moved off his abs and onto his cock.

A wet puddle was left on his abdomen, which he wiped away with his fingers, then putting said fingers into his mouth.

“So good,” he groaned.

You hummed in response, slowly sinking onto him.

"Fuck, you feel so good," you said when you bottomed out.

You started moving, swaying your hips back and forth. Each time Hoseok's cock would graze against your g-spot.

His hands were placed on your hips, guiding you on him. You could feel yourself clenching around him and your climax building up.

“I-I’m close,” you stuttered.

Hoseok swallowed, “Me too.”

“Ch-choke me,” you requested as you picked up your pace.

Hoseok grinned. “Only if you choke me back.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. Hoseok gently wrapped his hand around your neck, and you did the same, slowly applying pressure.

You felt your thighs burn from exhaustion. "F-fuck me," you cursed, slowing down.

Both of you let go of each other's neck, and Hoseok flipped you two over, still inside you.

"It's okay," Hoseok assures before resuming the pace.

His thrusts were rough and deep, and he pushed your thighs against your chest.

“Fuck, please keep going,” you begged.

“Can I choke you?” Hoseok asked.

“Please,” you replied, “do you want me to choke you too?”

“Yes,” Hoseok responded.

You felt yourself rhythmically clench around him. Hoseok must’ve realized because he began thrusting faster into you.

The room was filled with unholy noises. You could hear the wet sounds of your entrance and the impact of Hoseok’s hips against your core.

“Fuck don’t stop,” you choked out.

The knot building up in your abdomen unravelled, and pleasure and relaxation spread through your body. Your core gripped onto Hoseok like a vice.

“H-Hoseok,” you stammered, your core overstimulated.

“I-I want you to squirt,” he replied, continuing his firm thrusts.

“Oh,” you moaned.

He pounded deeper into your core, to the point where you could feel his tip ram against your cervix.

“Ah!” You screamed, feeling yourself gush around him.

“Fuck, so good,” Hoseok groaned. “I-I’m cumming.”

You felt the condom fill up inside you, and you felt disappointed that his cum couldn’t coat your walls.

His thrusts slowed down, and he stood still for a few moments.

When he pulled out, you shivered with oversensitivity. You knew that your sheets would be a mess and weren't looking forward to cleaning them when Hoseok left.

You looked up at the ceiling, breathless, while you heard Hoseok walk away from the bed.

“Where do you put your towels?” He asked.

“In the hallway, in the closet beside the dryer and washing machine.” You replied.

You heard him walk into the hallway and the closet door open and close. “Thanks,” he said. “And your bedsheets?”

“The closet in my room.”

You heard him walk back into your room, open your walk-in closet that led into your bathroom, and shuffle around. The tap ran in your bathroom for a couple seconds, then the sound of Hoseok wringing out something.

You began to sit up, but he hushed you to lie back down.

“Just relax,” he soothed, placing the clean bedsheets on your bedside table and walking over to you with a damp cloth.

“You don’t have to—”

He placed a hand on your thigh. “It’s okay,” he reassured.

You two exchanged a quick smile before Hoseok began to clean you up.

“You didn’t even cum on me,” you chuckled as he gently wiped your inner thighs.

“I know,” he replied, “but I still made you messy.”

When your thighs were no longer covered in your cum, you two changed your bedsheets.

“You good sleep in the same bed?” You asked while folding over your duvet.

“Sure,” He smiled.

You walked into your closet. "There should be some clothes that fit you. I usually wear men's clothes at home, anyways. It's crazy how great the quality men's clothes are compared to women's clothes." You picked out a t-shirt and sweatpants and tossed them at Hoseok.

He caught them, “Thanks.”

You two showered separately and spent the time getting ready together dancing to tunes.

If someone were to walk into the room, it wouldn’t look or smell like you two just had sex. You two looked like close friends having a dance party before going to bed.

Again, after you two had sex the first time, you both agreed to stay friends. It was easier said than done.

It was awkward initially, but you both were able to get past that by talking it through. Hoseok would ask how you felt during sex and what could have been better, and you would return the question.

Now, you both were able to have a good time and intimately learn more about each other.

Sure, it was strange, but it was a mutual agreement between consenting adults and fun.

The sex was fun—great, really—and you couldn’t have it any other way.

But you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t feel like something was missing.

.

.

“Good morning, everyone,” you greeted your fellow designers, “this is Hoseok. If you don’t know him already, he’s a well-known musician and one of my closest friends.”

Everyone welcomed Hoseok with a warm round of applause.

“Thank you, it’s a pleasure to be here.” Hoseok thanked.

“Hoseok will be helping out here and there while he’s vacationing here for a month,” you explained, “so take it easy on him.”

People shared chuckles at your joke.

"Anyways, let's start looking over the design ideas. You all are very talented artists, and I want you to remember that this is a draft, which means that these ideas are not final. If your idea is rejected, it's okay. We'll continue to work on a collective theme for the show."

The morning was spent listening to everyone's design concepts. To follow your reputation, the designs were contained within suits and gowns. As mentioned before, the theme was Vancouver's nature, where the fashion show would be taking place.

You and your design team used the recycled fabrics—which were separated by colours, textures, and materials—while figuring out your drafts.

You asked your design team to draft some ideas because you couldn't think of anything to present.

You were pleasantly surprised that your whole team had ideas that you approved.

“This a phenomenal,” you awed, “Great job, Erinn.”

“Actually,” you grabbed the attention of the other team members, “you all did a great job. We will be using all these ideas for the show.”

Your team shared cheers.

“Y/N,” Rachel nudged your shoulder, “I’m sorry to ask, but now that we’ve got the designs all in order, what about the models? You wanted to have various body types, right?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered,” you whispered back.

You turned back to your design team. "You all know that this show is tougher than our last one because we are trying to include more body types, genders, races, just different kinds of people. Which means that we will need to cater our clothes to the models, rather than the other way around.” You smiled, “So you all can go home for the next week.”

You heard Rachel choke on her inhale.

"Although you all have the week off, I want you all to try drawing your designs on other body types. Experiment with materials and colours. Remember to take some of the recycled fabrics home with you, and feel free to come in to pick anything up. Just let Rachel and I know in advance, and we'll give notice to the front desk so they can let you in. When we reconvene in a week, which would be next Friday at nine-thirty, I need you all to be ready to translate your designs, colours, and materials to our models." You ordered.

“Any questions?”

Comfortable silence amongst everyone.

You nodded. "Awesome. Good luck, everyone. Contact me if you have any questions."

Your team started packing up.

“Y/N, does that mean we’re spending the next week casting?” Rachel asked.

“Yes, Rachel. Please contact Westly and schedule lunch tomorrow at noon to discuss modelling criteria. It’s probably going to be pretty loose, but we need to contact Westly before sending it out.” You answered. “If he’s not free at that time, try figuring out something later tomorrow. Then book a reservation for three at Romeo’s.”

“Alright, on it,” Rachel replied.

You turned to Hoseok, who seemed shocked.

“What?” You blushed.

He continued his surprised expression. “I haven’t seen you like this before.”

You chuckled. “How else are you supposed to run a company and organize and execute a fashion show in 3 months?”

Rachel tapped you on the shoulder. "Westly can do lunch tomorrow, at noon, at Romeo's. He and his team secured the venue with Vancouver Fashion Week and are currently collaborating with the interior designers to figure out how the place will look. West said he'll debrief you tomorrow, at lunch, about the rest of the progress."

You smiled. “Great! Thank you, Rachel. You can also take the rest of the day off.”

Rachel appeared to be stunned, not responding to your words.

You waved a hand in front of her face. “Rachel? You can take the rest of the day off.”

“Are you sure, Y/N?” She asked.

You chuckled, “I wouldn’t be telling you to if I wasn’t sure, would I?”

She gave it a thought. “I guess not.”

You grinned. “Just meet me at our main building tomorrow, at eleven-thirty, and we’ll go to Romeo’s together.”

Rachel nodded. “Thank you, Y/N,”

“No worries,” you smiled.

You and Hoseok watched her leave, leaving you two alone in the studio.

“I’m sorry, it passed my mind. You’re okay not joining us for lunch tomorrow, right?” You asked Hoseok.

He dismissed your apology by brushing a hand through the air, “It’s all good. You’ve got your shit to do.” He smiled, “It gives me time to tour around a bit, anyways.”

“Good,” you replied. “So, where to?”

You pulled apart the croissant, eating pieces one at a time. The butteriness covered your tongue in a warmth that mixed well with the iced coffee you and Hoseok shared.

The park was surprisingly empty, despite it being a Friday. Usually, it would be tough to find a spot decently away from others, mostly shaded by trees.

The inlet was a few meters away, allowing you two to see sailboats pass by. People also kayaked and canoed, and you could hear their laughter faintly on land.

Here, you and Hoseok would be shielded by looming trees and away from potential fans of Hoseok. It was a rarity to have those two things when spending time with Hoseok: privacy and security—peace and quiet.

“This is what you wanted to do?” You asked, finishing off the croissant.

He nodded, sipping the iced coffee. “Yeah. It’s quiet and nice here.”

You two people watched, enjoying the breeze and serene environment.

“I was thinking,” you cleared your throat, “about last night. Did you enjoy it?”

Hoseok set down the iced coffee. “Yeah. I always like hanging out with you.”

“I mean—the sex.”

He seemed shocked by your question.

“Yeah, that was good too. Why do you ask? You never brought up before.” He pointed out.

Because I am growing feelings for my childhood friend, who I now have sex with for fun. This wasn't a part of the agreement, I know. We agreed to not grow feelings for each other and just have sex for pleasure. But it's inevitable to develop feelings for someone you have sex for, right? Like, there are probably people out there that can distinguish sex from love—and I guess it started out like that—but for us?

Am I crazy?

“No reason,” you sighed. “I just wanted to know if there was anything I could have done better.”

Hoseok turned his body to you, smiling. “It was perfect.”

He gestured with his arms for a hug, and you obliged. His cologne smelt of freshly peeled oranges; it was a pleasant fragrance, and you found yourself snuggling closer.

.

.

The past month went by in a busy blur.

The model casting went well. You and Westley found fantastic individuals to present your clothing line, which was in the process of being altered to fit those people.

The venue was secured, and the guest list was being made by You and Westley.

“Maybe invite Hoseok,” Westley suggested.  

You shook your head, “I can’t.”

"Why not?" He retorted. "The worse thing he could say is 'no,' and you can invite the whole band." He giggled. "Maybe I can meet Jimin in person."

You chuckled, “So that’s why you want me to invite Hoseok. Just because you made eye contact with Jimin for more than five seconds, it doesn’t mean that he’s into you. He’s straight.”

“How do you know?” Westley had a hand firmly on his hip.

“W-well, I haven’t asked him personally—”

"Then you can't assume he's straight!" Westley exclaimed. "The baseline isn't being heterosexual."

“True. Anyways, let’s get back to the guest list.” You chewed on your lip. “We have Harry Styles, BLACKPINK, Lizzo…”

Both of you ran down the list of a thousand attendees to the show in Vancouver. It was way smaller than fashion week or any of your previous shows, but it wasn't meant to be a big party.

Y/N [14:00]: Hey! Are you free and the boys on March 1st at 1 pm for about four hours, including an after-party until 10 pm, with food?

Hoseok [14:30]: Hiiiiii!! Sorry for the late text. I was asking the others. Yeah! That’s in 4 months? 🧐

Y/N [14:31]: Yeah, it’s for my fashion show. You can ask your company for that time? We’d provide the plane tickets and accommodation. You’d probably stay 3 days and 2 nights? You’d fly in the first day, sleep the one night, then attend the show the second day, sleep the second night, and fly out the 3rd day. I’ll need to know by the end of the week.

Hoseok [14:32]: Sounds good!!! I’ll ask my managers and let you know 👊

Y/N [14:33]: Awesome! Thanks 💚

Hoseok [14:33]: Np 💚

“So, Hoseok and the boys can come, but he has to confirm with his managers. He’ll let me know soon.” You relayed to Westley.

"Great! As long as we get confirmation from Hoseok at the end of this week, we can send out the invitations. We've checked with everyone's management, and they all seem to be busy. Worse comes to worst; we'll just have to move seats around." Westley advised.

He closed his laptop, and you followed.

“Alright, that seems to be all of the guest list business. I’ll get my team to start organizing plane tickets and accommodation.” He sighed, “shall we head to the studio to check on the design team?”

“Yes,” you replied.

Both of you were driven to the studio to check on the design team.

The studio was filled with models of various shades and shapes. Music played quietly in the background, and your coworkers and models grooved to the tunes. Designers pinned fabrics around people’s figures and sketched down measurements and ideas.

You and Westley went around checking on everyone, making sure gowns and suits were well in progress. A smaller group of people created ideas for shoes and were sending them out to shoemakers.

The rest of the day was spent getting to know the models, fixing measurements, finalizing some ideas, and briefing everyone about the plan for the next two months.

"Please have the gowns, suits, and shoes by the end of this month so we can start having the makeup artists consult all of you; to make sure the makeup correlates with the clothes and the models." You informed. "Thank you, everyone, for your amazing work."

Scattered “thank you”s responded, and our workday was over.

“You want to get some drinks?” Westley nudged.

You nodded, frankly too tired to answer but eager for a drink.

Both of you decided to walk to the high-class bar, which allowed private areas in the back for paying customers. You and Westley sat alone, away from the crowds of people near the entrance of the bar.

“To having a productive three months,” Westley sang, holding up his martini.

You sighed, “Cheers,” you tapped your peach Bellini glass against his, admitting a chime.

"Fuck," Westley cursed at the sip of his drink, "they're always stronger than I remember. "Anyways, the show is pretty much underway. Guestlist is handled, the venue is prepped and ready for us, the clothing is almost done. Oooo, I can’t wait to see it all together.”

You nodded.

“You don’t seem so excited, Y/N.”

“I am,” you replied.

“But?”

“I am excited.” You affirmed, although not living up to the word

Westley silenced, knowing when not to push your buttons.

He took a careful sip of his martini. “Where’s Hoseok?”

You fidgeted with your glass. "Hoseok went back to Korea. He only had a month of vacay, so," you left the sentence adrift.

“Did you enjoy his company?”

“Can we not talk about him right now? I rather not mix work and personal life.” You stated.

Westley acknowledged with a firm nod, finishing off his martini and asking for another.

“May I ask a question?”

“Sure.” You replied.

He cringed. “But if I ask, promise me you won’t fire me.”

You turned to him. “Depends on your question. You have to ask me first, then I can decide whether or not to fire you. I cannot make promises.”

“Why are you so off all of a sudden?” He genuinely asked.

You took a deep breath. “I’m not going to fire you, not for a long time. You’re my best worker, and I can’t let you go.”

"I feel like there's going to be a 'but' somewhere. Might as well rip off the Band-Aid." Westley sighed.

You nodded, “You’re right. And you’re right about my mood. I’ve been kind of off lately.”

“Because of Hoseok?”

"Yeah, to be honest." You admitted. "I feel like we're really close—more than just friends. We're on the same wavelength, you know? And whenever we're apart for a long time and then meet up again, it's like time has passed."

“And let me guess, you haven’t told him because you’re afraid to ruin your friendship.”

You scoffed. “There’s no need for sarcasm, West.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m just saying, it’s the oldest narrative in the book. One friend is falling for the other, and that one friend doesn’t want to confess their feelings because they’ve known the other person for years and are afraid of ruining that connection.” He took a sip of his martini. “But in the end, it’s two friends just pining over their feelings of love for each other.”

“But we’re different.” You argued.

"I guess so. The narrative doesn't really specify one friend is a famous fashion designer and the other being a famous musician—"

“I mean,” you interrupted, “we have sex every time we see each other.

Westley's mouth fell open in a silent gasp. His hand was placed on his chest, and his eyes stared into yours.

He tipped back his martini into his mouth, finishing it off. “Well, you didn’t mention the friends with benefits part.”

“I know!” You groaned. “That’s why it’s so complicated.”

"Is it really, though? Wouldn't confessing your feelings after you two have had sex so much make it slightly easier? Because it makes sense to grow feelings for someone you've known for a while and have had sex with on multiple occasions." Westley speculated.

“I didn’t say we had sex on multiple occasions—”

“Honey,” he began, “you said you’ve had sex with him every time you see each other, and you two meet a lot. It doesn’t take a detective to figure it out.”

"Anyways," he digressed, "the sooner you tell him, the better. There's no use debating over it for years, then finding out he's found someone else when he would've picked you anyways."

"Gosh, when you say it like that, it sounds like a romantic movie." You cringed, finishing your peach Bellini.

He shrugged. “Well, it kinda is.”

You chuckled. “Well, thanks for the advice.”

“Thank you for filling me in,” he smiled.

.

.

The week went by fast. Your design team was still working on alterations, so you were left brainstorming hair and makeup and contacting specialists in those fields.

You were sitting at home, knee-deep in Pinterest boards when your phone buzzed.

You stopped strolling through your laptop and peered down.

Hoseok [19:30]: We can come to your show!

Y/N [19:30]: Fantastic! I'll let my team know, and we’ll send out the invites.

You texted Westley, informing him that BTS could attend the show.

Westley [19:33]: Great! I'll let the rest of the team know, and we'll send the emails out tomorrow

Y/N [19:34]: Thanks!

Westley [19:35]: Np

You set down your phone and continued to add ideas to your private Pinterest board.

Your phone buzzed again.

Hoseok [19:55]: What are you doing right now?

You were puzzled.

Y/N [19:56]: Nothing much, just brainstorming ideas for the show. You?

Hoseok [19:57]: Just chilling in my room.

Hoseok [20:05]: I miss you

You chuckled at the text, thinking that Hoseok was drunk.

Y/N [20:05]: I miss you too, Hobi.

Hoseok [20:08]: …how much?

Again, you were puzzled by his text.

Y/N [20:10]: Wdym? I miss having you here? Is that what you mean?

Hoseok [20:11]: I mean, do you miss me intimately?

Y/N [20:14]: Like sex-wise?

Hoseok [20:14]: Fuck, I need you, Y/N.

You stared at his words.

Hoseok [20:18]: I miss your body and how perfectly you fit around me.

Your cheeks flushed.

Hoseok [20:21]: Can you video chat? Unless you’re not in the mood.

You panicked.

You were in the mood but weren't presentable. Your hair was messy, and you weren't wearing any makeup, and you were dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants.

Y/N [20:23]: Yeah, I’m in the mood. Just give me 5 mins.

You quickly got out of your seat and ran to your bedroom. You sifted through your closet and found the sexist clothing item you had: a red lingerie set. You quickly undressed and put on the set.

You looked into your full-length mirror and tried not to cringe. Your hair was a mess, and you weren’t wearing any makeup. It definitely looked like Hoseok's text came out of nowhere—and it did, but you somehow expected yourself to be decently presentable.

However, the lingerie set was doing you favours. The set was composed of a crotchless thong and a bralette that exposed your nipples.

Y/N [20:28]: I’m ready.

Your phone rang, and you answered, quickly propping it on your drawers across from your bed.

You were faced with a shirtless Hoseok, his cock already in his hand.

“Fuck, you look amazing.” He complimented breathlessly.

“Wow, you’re ahead of the game—and really? I’m a mess.” You chuckled.

He hissed, flinching in his grip. “Fuck, just take the compliment, Y/N.”

You cleared your throat. “Thank you.”

You sat a pit forward, angling your breasts towards the camera.

“What are you imagining, baby?” You purred.

“Y-You,” he stuttered, moving his hand up and down his cock.

“Mhm,” you moaned, “thinking up my pussy clenching around your cock, making it all wet.”

He nodded.

"You can do something if you want," he suggested. "You said you were in the mood."

Your eyes opened wide. “Wait a minute.”

You brought the phone with you on your journey, going back to your closet and fetching your dildo, lube, and vibrator. You hurried to the bathroom and propped your phone up against the closed door.

You suctioned the bottom of the dildo onto the titled floor. You placed the vibrator on the bathroom counter.

“You want to watch me bounce on this dildo and think of you?” You smirked, rubbing lube onto your hands, onto the toy, and onto your vagina.  

“Fuck, yes,” he replied, stilling his hand around his cock for a moment.

“Did I say you could stop?” You spat.

“I’m waiting for you,” he smiled, making your heart melt.

You paused over the dildo, smiling back at him. “Awww, that’s actually kinda sweet. Thank you.”

You quickly washed your hands and grabbed the vibrator.  

You crouched down and slowly onto the dildo.

“Fuck,” you moaned, tilting your head back at the feeling of being filled up. It didn’t hit the spots Hoseok did, but it was good enough.

You lifted yourself up and sunk back down again, rhythmically repeating the motion.

“Fuck, so good,” you sighed, overlooking the pain in your knees.

“That's right, baby, imagine me filling that pussy up," Hoseok groaned, following your rhythm while pumping his cock.

“Fuck yes,” you replied, “and I’m clenching around you so tight.”

You two exchanged moans at the sound of your pussy squelching around the dildo.

“Use the vibrator, baby,” Hoseok purred.

You hummed, grabbing the rose gold vibrator and turning it on. You place the buzzing toy on your clit, feeling pleasure rippling through your core.

“Fuck,” you hissed, speeding up your pace a bit.

“I-I’m getting close.”

“Yeah, baby?” Hoseok smirked. “You get off at me rubbing my cock? Imagining me buried inside your pussy, making you feel so good?"

You nodded. “But it’s not as you, baby.”

“I know—” He choked, appearing to be on the brink of his climax. “I fucking miss the way your pussy fit so well around me, no matter how many times I fucked you open.”

“Mhm,” you bit your lips, watching him with hooded eyes. “Don’t stop.”

“Who knew you were filthy enough to cum during cybersex?" He observed. "I'm not even there to touch you, but just thinking of me inside has you in ruins.”

“What would you do if I was with you right now?” You asked.

“I would fuck you until you couldn’t walk the next day,” he replied, “I’d fuck you until that pretty pussy is swollen.”

"F-fuck, I'm going to cum," you stuttered, feeling the familiar build-up in your core.

“M-me too,” he stammered.

You watched his head tilt back in pleasure and his cum squirt up from his cock.

“Fuck!” You cursed, feeling your pleasure shoot out of your core and onto the floor

“So hot,” Hoseok sighed.

You chuckled, coming down from high. You pulled yourself up and off the dildo, sitting on the cool tile floor.

“Fuck, did you squirt?” He asked, looking closer.

You nodded, gesturing to the mess on the ground.

“Spread your legs for me, baby,” he commanded and obliged, showing him your battered cunt.

You spread your lips, and he hummed at sight.

“So beautiful.” He awed.

“You happy? I need to wipe this all up, now,” you scoffed.

He chuckled. “It’s not my fault that you cummed.” He angled his phone to the floor, showing splashes of his cum on the floor, "and besides, you also made me make a mess.”

You both chatted while cleaning up your messes, talking about your days as if nothing happened. After finishing your clean-up, you two continued your conversation while showering, as if both of you were doing it together.

Ready to relax for the night, both of you signed off with exchanged ‘thanks’ and ‘good night.’

You turned off your phone with a soft click and stepped out of the steamy bathroom. Your pyjamas were soft on your skin, and you felt ready to go to bed.

Hopping onto your bed, you grabbed your laptop and turned on some Netflix to fall asleep to.

From an outsider’s perspective, masturbating with your best friend and then casually talking with them while showering and getting ready for bed was odd. Repeating the scenario in your mind did make it sound like you two were in a long-distance romantic relationship rather than a platonic one.

But you and Hoseok were different. That was your excuse.

A friend could do this and not catch feelings. You two were the perfect example of that.

Emphasis on were because you were currently spiralling in your growing romantic feelings for Hoseok.

But what would you do in this situation?

You and your childhood friend engage in sex one time and promise each other to not grow feelings. In this manner, you two could have sex without attachment. Fast forward into the future, and you both are still making this arrangement with no negative consequences and feel like you two have gotten to know each other better and have become better friends—until you catch feelings. And you don’t want to risk losing this relationship you two have.

Because he is a worldwide musician who can’t be tied down because it could risk his career, and he might lose fans—and you couldn't be bothered with any romantic commitment with your fast-paced and unpredictable work schedule.

So, you stay in this unnameable mess.

.

.

“Time flies by when you’re having fun,” Allie commented from the plush couch.

You looked in the mirror, twisting your back towards it to see the back of the dress. “I guess so.”

“You have to admit, planning a fashion show is pretty fun,” she said. “If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be doing it over and over again.”

“True,” you replied, turning to the stylist.

“May I see the other dress?” You asked, and the stylist nodded, retreating to somewhere in the shop you couldn’t see.

It was the last month until the show. Everything was in order: the show’s venue and its decorations, the clothes, makeup and hair for the models, and the guests’ accommodation. Now, it was your turn to find suitable attire for the occasion.

You tried on the next dress. It was a slim-fitting number, with a leg slit in the front. It was scandalous and stunning, but not right for the show.

“I don’t like any of these dresses,” you sighed, annoyed.

Allie appears to brainstorm some ideas.

“Maybe try a suit?” She proposed.

You kept your eyes on the mirror, twirling your figure and watching the fabric move at your feet.

“Think about it,” she began, “think of all the powerful women who’ve worn suits and killed it. Zendaya, Kristen Stewart, Blake Lively, Awkwafina. The list goes on. It’s a statement piece, and you’re the big brain behind this operation.”

“I think it’s ‘mastermind behind this operation,’ but I get what you mean.” You corrected.

“You literally bypassed my whole point—”

“I know, I know,” you interrupted. “It’s just—suits for women are so overpriced. And it’s just like the dresses, except a different fit. Same colour palettes, same materials, so on.”

Allie scoffed. "You're a fucking fashion designer, did you forget? Make your own thing. There are leftover fabrics at your studio; you have time to make something." Her face lit up, “And, technically, it’s for free.”

You gave it a thought, but the stylist came back before you could finish it.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Vega, but I’m not finding anything, and I don’t want you walking back and forth and bringing me more dresses.” You gave an apologetic smile. “Thank you very much for your help.”

"No worries, Y/N! Just hang up the dress when you take it off, and I’ll deal with the rest,” she replied.

“Will do,” you said, and she stepped out of the room.

Allie helped you unzip the gown, and you shimmed out of it. You did as you were told and hung up the dress, and you and Allie left the shop.

The walk back to the studio was quick, you two making determined strides through the crowded city.

You and Allie entered the empty studio, turning on the nights.

The studio was organized chaos with dressed mannequins, big boxes of fabrics in the back of the room, and papered patterns on the tables.

“Wow,” Allie awed.

"Yeah," you replied, leading you both to your master station is near the back, "it's crazy what a couple months before a show looks like.”

You looked through the drawers beside your desks and grabbed the tools you'll need to plan out the suit.

“So, just a suit jacket and pants…” You said, grabbing some paper to sketch up your pattern.

You looked up at Allie, “Do you mind helping me out with measurements?”

She nodded, “For sure. What do you need?”

You guided Allie on how to measure your proportions for the suit. She measured your inseams for your pants, the sleeves, the cuts, and so on. In between, you'd write down the dimensions for the patterns.

You two sifted through the fabrics to create a monochrome patchwork outfit. The suit would be shades of cherry red, with different materials making it up. There were no patterns in the patchwork, only various tones of red in several types of wool.

“Fucking hell,” Allie cursed while sifting through the materials, “who would’ve thought there were so many shades of red.”

She held up a piece of recycled fabrics, checking with you that it was the correct tone. You took it and held the portion against the others.

“Nope, too dark,” you shook your head.

"What? It looks exactly the same," she disagreed, walking over to your table. When comparing the fabrics, she made an 'aaah’ sound, letting you know that you were right.

Before sectioning off your pattern, you tried your best to evenly sew all the material together into a quilt-like form.

“Jesus,” you muttered, shaking out your sore hands.

“We don’t have to get this all done today, you know. You do have two months left.” Allie advised.

"I know. I just want to put this all together first," you replied, continuing to push the material through the sewing machine.

“Alright,” she surrendered, bringing one of the seats over to your table.

You sewed in silence for a bit.

“So,” Allie began, “how are you and Hoseok doing?”

You paused. “What do you mean?”

“You know…you two and your arrangement.”

You scoffed, “Our arrangement? You mean us having sex?”

“Yeah, but the other stuff.”

You pulled your hands from the sewing machine, crossing your arms over your chest. "Just spit it out, Al."

“Well, you’ve had mixed feelings with Hoseok, right? Like you’re starting to like him?” She speculated.

Your mouth gaped open. “Have you been talking to West?”

She didn’t respond, not making eye contact.

“You can’t be fucking serious. You two are ganging up on me!” You yelled.

“Y/N, we’re just worried.”

“About what? I have feelings—and?” You fumed.

She sighed. “You shouldn’t be having sex with someone if you’re growing romantic feelings, especially if you two agreed to be platonic.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you stood.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed. "Don't you dare talk to me that way? I am your friend, not your enemy." Allie stood up and sighed. “I get it. You don’t like people in your business. That’s fair. I just feel like you're sacrificing yourself for Hoseok when you could talk about it with him."

“Allie, you don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.” You spat.

“I get it,” she sympathized. “I don’t. I’m not you or Hoseok.”

“So, tell me,” she said. “Educate me on the situation. I am not here to judge. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

“It’s okay,” she forgave, “just don’t push me away so fast, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed.

She sat down, “So?”

You sat down and rehashed your feelings about you and Hoseok to her: the growing romantic feelings for him, not knowing what to do, and wanting something more.

“Well, do you think it’d work out between you two if you dated?” She asked.

You shifted in your seat. "I honestly don't know. It's tough with Hoseok's work because he has a loyal fanbase. I'm afraid he's going to get even more hate if we were to date.”

“But would you two be happy?” She asked.

You gave it a thought. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you go into a relationship regardless of other people. Whether you’re a celebrity or an ordinary person, you date someone for you and that person; no one else. There are going to be people who support and hate your relationship no matter what. What matters is what the two people think in the relationship."

She sighed. “You cannot control what others will think about you. No matter what you do or who you do, you're going to upset someone. So, just do what feels comfortable and safe with you."

You hummed, understanding.

“So, would you be happy if you and Hoseok dated?”

“Yes.” You stated without a thought. “I really like him—love him even.”

"Then that's all that matters," Allie replied.

.

.

The week before, the show crept on you faster than you expected. You, your team of designers and event organizers, models, hairstylists and makeup artists flew into Vancouver a week early to prepare on location.

However, the majority of the week would be spent preparing for the show. The first day was spent unloading all of the outfits and equipment for the show into the venue. Everyone was required to show up to organize their stations and to familiarize themselves with the venue.

“Please set up your stations while Westley and I look into the main runway and after part section. We’ll be back in around two hours to check up on everyone. If you have any questions while we're gone, please contact me on my phone." You held up your cellphone and everyone nodded. "Great. Good luck, everyone!"

The venue and interior designers' owners toured you and Westley around the place, showing you the drawn floorplans, running down the prices, and checking that the decorations correlated with your plans.

“These weren’t the chairs we sent over,” Westley pointed to the black folded chairs lining the runways.

“Yes, but these were within the price range and—” One of the interior designers, Queeny, said.

“But did we get an email regarding this change?” You interjected.

Queeny exchanged looks with the other three decorators, and they shook their heads.

Wesley let out an angry sigh. "Well, I guess we’ll have to live with these then.” He sat down on one of the chairs. “At least they’re comfortable. They look cheap, but they’re sturdy.”

“Are there any more changes you made without informing as?” You asked.

They all shook their heads.

"Great." You turned to one of the two-venue owners, named Ruby. "Shall we continue to the after-party part?”

“Yes,” she replied, gesturing to the doorway that led to the front reception area.

From the reception area, where guests would check-in and get a wristband, a double-door way on the right led to a ballroom for the after-party.

The overall theme of the place was classic European designs with off-white luxurious walls and chandeliers. The ceilings were intricately carved, and the floors were a smooth white oak. Just walking around made you feel like you were dirtying the place.

“This place is stunning,” Westley whispered.

“I know,” you replied, “you chose the place.”

“I know,” he smiled, pretending to flip his hair.

You both chuckled, continuing to follow the owners around the venue.

Everything worked out, besides the chairs, so you and Westley checked on the designers, models, hairstylists and makeup artists.

At the end of the workday, everyone was in order and ready for the next three days of dress rehearsals and solving and problems.

You arrived back at your hotel with sore feet and exhaustion.

Your phone rang as you flopped onto your bed.

You answered. “Hobi!”

“Y/N! How was your flight to Vancouver?” He asked.

“It was good. We didn't have a rest day, though. We had to settle into the place and check it over. My feet are so sore.” You groaned.

“Really? I thought you’d at least have a rest day when you guys arrived,” he assumed.

You shook your head. “No. Sadly, this whole week will be walking around and making sure everything is going smoothly.”

He sighed. “Shit. That sucks.” You heard him shift on the other side of the phone. “Do you want to relax?”

You laughed. “Jung Hoseok, did you seriously booty call me from across the world?”

Hoseok gasped, "I did not! I was talking about watching Netflix or something." He chuckled, "You're so dirty-minded."

You both laughed.

“Okay, so what do you want to watch?” He asked on the other end of the call.

You brought out your laptop and scrolled through the movie selection.

“Oooo! Let’s watch Hush. I’ve heard so many good things about it.” You recalled.

You could hear his hesitation.

Hoseok did not like being scared. Whenever you watched anything scary, you were afraid that your neighbours would complain at how loud his screaming was. As you remembered saying "hello" to him once and him screaming in fear and surprise, he was also easily frightened.

“We don’t have to,” you said.

“No, no,” Hoseok reassured, “we’ll watch it. Just send me the Netflix Party link, and I'll ready the Zoom link."

You giggled. “You don’t have to be brave for me, Hobi. I know you don’t like scary movies.”

“You want to watch it, so let’s do it,” he said, “and the ratings are good.”

“Okay,” you digressed. “I’m texting you the link right now.”

“Same,” he replied.

You two hung up and joined the links.

“Hello!” Hoseok beamed, dancing.

You rolled your eyes and chuckled at his burst of energy. “Hello, Hobi.”

You carried your laptop to the bathroom and began getting ready for bed.

“How was your day?” You asked.

Hoseok described him and his bandmates' film day for "Run! BTS," and you groaned at all the work they had to do.

He laughed. “But we got to play games, which was fun. We laughed so much that my abs hurt.” You watched him lift up his shirt and show his toned abdomen.

Your core felt a familiar flutter.

“W-wow, that must be a lot of laughing,” you cleared your throat and took out your toothbrush and toothpaste.

For the moment, the time difference worked for you two because it was almost ten at night for you and nearly three in the afternoon for him.

“Should I turn off my camera?” You asked before undressing to get into the shower.

He shook his head. “I’m okay with you leaving it on. I’ve seen you naked before, so it’s not really different. But if you’re uncomfortable, you can just turn it off.”

You shrugged and began taking off your clothes in full view of the camera and screen.

You noticed Hoseok’s expression.

“Enjoying the show?” You chuckled, finally taking off your undergarments and fully exposing yourself.

Hoseok smirked, “Don’t act like you weren’t just turned on by my abs. I saw how you looked at me.”

You nodded and surrendered. “Fair point.”

You hoped in the shower, and you two continued talking.

“Jesus, we haven’t started the movie yet,” Hoseok commented while you were washing your hair.

“Shit, right,” you laughed, massaging the shampoo into your scalp.

After you hoped out of the shower and dried your body and hair, you both started to watch the movie.

“This is a pretty cool premise. Like, we’ve never seen a deaf person in a horror movie before,” you regarded.

"True, that's a good point—AHHHHHH!" Hoseok screamed at the sudden slam in the movie.

You burst into laughter.

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, trying to calm himself with controlled breaths.

The movie continued as you finished off your skincare and put on your pyjamas.

The oversized t-shirt was long enough to cover your thighs.

“You’re going to watch this before bed?” Hoseok gasped.

You chuckled. “Yeah. It’s not that scary.” You say as you jump at the sound of breaking glass in the film.

Hoseok laughed at the coincidental timing.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you woke up to the sound of your alarm.

“Shit,” you grumbled and turned it off.

You heard Hoseok stir awake on the Zoom call.

Both of you had fallen asleep, but Hoseok finished the movie before you could; because you saw the end credits paused in the Netflix Party.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s okay,” Hoseok mumbled, squinting at the screen.

“I’ll let you sleep,” you smiled, hovering your cursor over the "send" button.

He softly smiled, “thank you.” He snuggled into his pillow, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Hobi,” you replied, ending the call for both of you.

It didn’t hit you until you were halfway through your dress rehearsal, but Hoseok had stayed with you while you slept. He didn't wake you but quietly continued the movie and fell asleep.

Hoseok was usually sweet, so you didn't pay too much attention to it.

But it did make you feel special.

.

.

It was the day of the fashion show, and you were fucking nervous.

You had done this before, a show, but this one was different. You had put in so much effort and were proud of how it turned out but were afraid of what other people would think.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Allie assured through video call,” it’ll be excellent, and everyone won’t stop talking about it.”

“Probably,” you replied, putting on your makeup.

“It will be excellent, Y/N. I am so sure I will bet money.” She stated.

You chuckled, "then I'll take your word for it because I am not bidding money.”

You both laughed.

“Okay, I know I already showed you my outfit, but are you sure it looks good?” She asked, putting on the A-line floor-length dress she’d shown you before. It was a beautiful viridian green with lace shoulder straps that draped over the sides of her biceps.

“You look beautiful,” you complimented, setting your makeup with setting spray and heading to your closet.

You put on the suit you made and looked in the mirror. You looked a bad bitch.

“You look great! Oooo, put on the red bottoms,” Allie squealed.

You put on the signature Louis Vuitton black high heels with the ruby bottoms.

Your phone buzzed.

“I got to go; Westley is here with our ride to the venue. I’ll see you there!”

“See you!” She waved, ending the call.

You did a quick check in the mirror, fixing your hair, grabbed your bags, and headed out the door.

Your driver waited outside the vehicle as you approached, and opened its door, showing you a well-dressed and excited Westley.

"Oh my god, you look great!" He gasped. “When did you make the suit?”

“I finished it a week before we flew out,” you chuckled, “and you look great too! I love the pine on you.”

You took a step back and looked at Westley’s crisp pine-coloured suit with matching brown dress shoes.

“Thank you,” he grinned. “Okay, get in before we become late.”

You hopped into the car, and your driver got in and started the vehicle.

The drive was spent recalling your opening and closing speeches with Westley and the show's agenda.

“So, five pm is when the show ends, and then the guests for the after-party go into the ballroom area. Food is served at six pm, and everything is wrapped up at ten pm.” Westley relayed.

You nodded, “Yup.”

Both of you arrived a couple hours before the start time, which was at 1 pm, to set everything up and warm up the models and crew.

Westley checked the organizers and the models while you went to the runway area to check the lights and sound.

"Let's rerun the lights, please!" You announced as you walked into the runway room. "Can I get a headset, please?" You ask the crew on the ground, who nodded.

“Yup!” You heard the lighting crew respond.

You were given the headset, and you heard the head light technician’s voice.

“Can you hear me?” They checked.

“Yes,” you confirmed.

They ran by the six light settings for the show, and it was all correct.

“It’s perfect, thank you. Can you please check that the sound is alright?” You asked through the headset.

“Yup. You’ll have to hand the headset to another person, though, and we’ll give you a mic.” They added.

You heard their muffled voice as if they covered their mic's headset with their hand. Next, you had someone hand you a mic and take your headset.

“You’ll need to stand on the stage,” The person said.

“Okay,” you replied, going to the runway and standing on the end portion.

All the room’s lights turned on, and you could see the lighting crew’s area in the back and the chair organized around the runway.

“You can speak into the mic!” You heard someone shout.

You started speaking nonsense in the mic, like the type of weather outside, as they adjusted the volume.

“Thank you!” Someone shouted.

“Thanks,” you said into the mic before handing it to one of the crew.

“Is there anything to report? Any problems that arose before I got here?” You asked the crew.

They all shook their heads.

“How is everyone feeling?” You asked.

They all shared nervous laughter, and a few people said “good.”

“Alright, if there’s anything you all need, just come to the modelling area and ask me. It’s in the backroom.”

They all nodded, and you left them to their business.

You arrived in the backroom and saw designers fitting their outfits on the models and makeup artists and hairstylists prepping their stations.

“How is everybody doing?!” You enthusiastically asked.

They cheered with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"I get it. Everyone is on their toes. You all have an hour left to set things up before people start filing in. Remember, the show starts at 1 pm. The door opens thirty minutes before them.”

They call responded with various forms of understanding, and you went around to check on them individually.

Rachel came and taped your shoulder, with a headset on, “So, the guards are in their posts, and the front is ready to check people in.”

“Is there a line already?” You asked.

Rachel pressed down the headset, asking the crew on the other end.

“Yes, there’s a line of people outside,” she reported, “about twenty people, so far.”

"Shit, yeah, let them in. It's probably cold." You ordered.

“I’ll tell them,” she replied.

“Okay, everyone! We’re starting to let people in. Again, you all have about an hour left, so try to wrap things up and relax. Thank you!” You announced.

Again, sounds of understanding, and you, Westley, and Rachel left the backroom.

“Rachel, Westley and I are going to check that the ballroom area and catering are all handled. Please check in with the front desk to see how they're doing, and then meet us in the ballroom." You told.

“Got it, Y/N,” Rachel answered, walking past the two of you and towards the front area.

Westley appeared impressed. “She's terrific. She's even got the headset and everything."

"I know, right? She's cool." You remarked.

Like clockwork, you and Westley ran over the details and schedule for the catering and the after-party. Everyone had places to sit, with elegantly decorated name cards.

Everything was ready.

"Fantastic, thank you," you thanked the caterers and the staff in the ballroom. "Feel free to come into the runway area during the show if you all would like to watch."

With that, it was about time the show would start. You and Westley hurried backstage, where you both were handed microphones.

The lights dimmed, and classical music played—fitting the theme of elegance and high class.

You and Westley regarded each other, did an excellent handshake, and strutted out on the runway. Both of you were met with applause from the crowd and blinding spotlights.

You two walked to the end of the runway and let out an exhausted sigh.

The music quieted, faintly heard in the background.

“And that’s why I’m not a model,” Westley joked, causing the crowd to giggle.

“Same here,” you chuckled.

“Anyways, welcome to the show, everyone!” You cheered, and the crowd clapped. “As you know, I am Y/N, and this is Westley. Today, we’ll be showing recycled elegant clothes on people. Not just models, but people. All the clothes you'll be seeing here today are made from recycled fabrics and hand-crafted by our design team and me."

Applause.

"We wanted to represent people, so we got people to present our clothes. Redundant, I know, but the fashion industry rarely shows models that look like people. Don’t get me wrong, they’re all fantastic. However, this show will be different. Enjoy!” Westley waved.

A final round of applause while you and Westley walked off the runway.

The show went smoothly and wonderfully. The changes were fluid, and there were no clothing mishaps. The classical music turned into upbeat music that everyone seemed to groove to. Models danced on the runway while walking, and there were joyful cheers in the crowd.

In the end, you and Westley gave your brief thank you speeches, and months of planning and work were officially completed.

When everyone was backstage, you all collectively cheered.

“Phenomenal job, everyone!” You praised. “I am speechless at how well we all did. Thank you all for being such wonderful people to work with.”

Smiles and cheers were shared as everyone got ready for the after-party.

“Okay, remember that food is being served at six o’clock, and you all will be able to find your names at a table.” You reminded.

You and Westley did a quick check-up on people before heading to the ballroom area to socialize.

“Great job, you two!” Some complimented.

You and Westley thanked the praise and had a small talk with some colleges.

“Hey, Y/N!” You heard a familiar voice say.

You turned and say Hoseok with the rest of the boys, waving.

“Hey!” You smiled, nudging Westley to join you.

"Well, enjoy the after-party," Westley grinned at the other guests before joining you.

As always, the seven boys were well-dressed in designer suits. Hoseok wore lightly tinted shades paired with a dark suit and floral dress shirt. His hair was wavy.

“That was awesome, Y/N,” Namjoon said.

“Thank you!” You replied.

“Yeah, Y/N, I loved the recycled-fabrics idea. Are anything on sale?” Taehyung asked.

You nodded. "Everything will be on sale next month. I'll send you the dates, so you mark them in your calendar. The clothes go fast," you chuckled.

“Damn,” Taehyung remarked, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, Jimin,” Westley greeted.

“Hey West,” Jimin smiled, “loved your speech today. That suit looks great on you.”

“I know,” Westley smirked, “you look good too.”

"How are you feeling?" Hoseok asked, letting Westley and Jimin casually flirt.

You sighed. “Glad that it’s over, to be honest. It was fun, of course, but it's a lot of work to organize."

“Oh my god, is that Charlie Puth?” Jungkook gasped, hiding slightly behind Namjoon.

Everyone laughed.

"You should go and say 'hi,' Kook. You've already met and sung with him before. You two are practically friends." Yoongi expressed.

“True,” you agreed, “and Charlie’s a nice guy.”

“Okay,” Jungkook straightened his posture, “I’ll do it.”

You all watched Jungkook walk over and begin chatting with Charlie Puth.

“God, he’s grown up so much,” Seokjin sighed.

The rest of you caught up and chatted about the show.

Before you knew it, Westley was poking your side to let you know it was five minutes until six.

“Shit,” you cursed. “Sorry to cut this convo short, but Westley and I have to announce dinner. We’ll talk soon!”

You all said your goodbyes, and you and Westley went up to the front to state it was time for food.

You two were seated with Rachel, Allie, and a couple others. Everyone ordered off a menu, which served various kinds of pasta, salads, and a mix of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages.

It was an excellent way to end off the show.

There was a dancefloor, too, where people could groove to music after eating.

Of course, the seven boys went to the dancefloor, which caused others to join.

You were finishing off your fettuccine alfredo when Hoseok danced over to your table. You chuckled as he held his hand out and quirked a brow.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, taking his hand.

“You love it,” he smirked, pulling you off your chair and leading you to the dancefloor.

You danced together, along with your friends. He held your hands as you two swayed to the slow songs and body-rolled with you during the upbeat songs. Of course, a few BTS songs played, and everyone tried to follow the known choreography. You went back to your table for a drink of water, and Allie came with you. "Look, and you and Hoseok dancing up a storm," she teased. “Shut up,” you chuckled. “The chemistry is there, Y/N,” she commented. You drank your water. "Not now, Al." “Come on! He’s here for, what, the night and then gone tomorrow morning? When will you see him again?” She asked. You paused, honestly unsure when you'd see Hoseok again. “Now or never, Y/N. How much longer can you debate this?” “I know,” you replied. “I’ll do it later tonight.” Around nine-thirty, the party was dying down, with only a few guests scattered around the venue helping to clean up. You made eye contact with Allie, who was tending to the chairs, who nudged towards Hoseok’s direction. Now or never. You said in your head. “Can I speak to you, Hoseok?” You asked, walking up to him. “For sure!” He replied. You led both of you to a secluded part of the venue, away from listeners. “Did you enjoy the show?” You asked. “Yeah! You did a fantastic job, Y/N. I love how everything turned out, the colours, the recycled fabrics were great—and your suit! I can’t believe you made it,” Hoseok complimented, stepping back to look at your attire. “Thank you,” you blushed. You gave a quick look around to make sure no one was around. “Is everything alright, Y/N? You’re looking around as if they’re spies around.” He gasped. “Are there spies around? What secret don’t they know?” “I don’t want to have sex with you anymore.” You abruptly stated. A stretch of silence. Hoseok’s expression was a mixture of surprise and concern. “What?” “I can’t have sex with you anymore.” “You can’t or don’t want to? Is it something I did?” “Yes? No? In a way?” You pondered. You took a few deep breaths. "I like you, Hoseok—possibly even love you.” You ran your hand through your hair. “I know we agreed not to catch feelings, so I think we should stop having sex.” You watched his expression shift from some form of being happy to disappointment. “You know I cannot date with work,” he explained, "with the fans, touring, and whatnot, I cannot date someone. And you have your company to work on." “I know,” you replied. “But do you like me back?” You asked. “I do—” “You do?” You were on the verge of hugging him, but he stepped back. You looked at him, confused. “We can’t—” “Why?” “I literally just told you, Y/N. With work, dating wouldn’t allow it. I already have people—” He choked on his words. “People who wish I was dead, j-just for being me.” “Hoseok—” You reached out to him, but he gently pushed you away. “No,” he objected, “I’m fine. I just don’t want to add you to the mess.” “You can’t decide that for me.” You retorted. “I understand that you don’t want to add me to it, but I’m okay with it. I don't care what other people would say about us. They're not in the relationship, we are—" “But what if I care?” He said, almost too quiet for you to hear. “I’m the happy guy of BTS, who’s dedicated to his work.” “But are you truly happy?” You peered into him. “Yeah,” he replied, avoiding eye contact, “but it gets really hard sometimes.” “So, let me help, Hoseok,” you pleaded. "I don't need to be helped! I'm not another project for you to work on.” He thundered. “You know that’s not what I meant.” You seethed. “Let’s just drop it, okay? We’re not dating, that’s it.” He dictated. “Fine.” You replied. “Have a safe trip back home.” You left without another word, trying your best not to cry. Out of all the ways you thought he'd respond, this took you off guard. Hoseok wasn't one to push you away, but here he was doing so. “Fuck this,” you whimpered, walking up to Allie. “I’m going back to the hotel, sorry,” you said, turning away as soon as possible. “Y/N!”

You washed your face and hoped into the shower—the warm water soothing your sore muscles and emotions. You couldn’t tell if it was the water or your tears streaming down your face.

What else did you expect? Hoseok had a point: with his work, he couldn’t date someone. And it was ridiculous that Hoseok would want to date you.

However, instead of sulking over Hoseok, you decided to have a bath and put on a facemask.

The room’s phone rang while you were starting the bath.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Y/N Y/L/N?

“Speaking,” you confirmed.

“Great! There’s a man here, named,” a muffled noise, “Hoseok Jung.”

“Tell him I’m busy, please,” you replied.

Another muffled noise. “Hoseok says he's sorry and that he has ice cream—cookie dough. But if he’s dangerous, I can call the police.”

“No, no. God no,” you said.

You bit your lip. "You can send Hoseok up."

“Okay. However, if there’s anything wrong, please try to press the red button on the receiver. I will check back with you in an hour. If there’s no response, I’ll get someone to check on you.” They informed.

“Thank you,” you replied, slightly shocked by their concern.

You hung up.

A few minutes later, you heard a knock on the door. You tightened your robe.

You checked the peephole before cracking the door open.

“Hi,” you greeted.

“Hey," he smiled. "I'm sorry for leaving you like that at the party. It was sudden and insensitive. I should have been more considerate of your feelings rather than shutting you off.”

“I was just—scared. I don’t know what it’s going to be like for us. And I don't want you to fix me—but I like you, a lot—so I brought cookie dough ice cream and two spoons—"

“Do you want to come in?” You interrupted his nervous rambling.

“Yes, thank you,” he chuckled.

Hoseok still wore the suit from the fashion show, but his jacket was folded over his arm, and his dress shirt was unbuttoned lower.

“Oh, you’re running the bath,” he noticed. "We can deal with this later if it's a bad time."

“No, it’s alright. I’ll just turn off the water.” You replied, going to the bathroom to do so.

When you came back, Hoseok was sitting on the edge of your bed.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” You asked, sitting beside him.

He opened the ice cream tub, setting the lid on the desk and handing you one of the spoons.

“I was thinking you could talk more, actually; about how you feel," he replied, giving you the tub and angling himself to face you. "I just want to listen to you this time."

You gave a brief smile before spooning a small piece of ice cream into your mouth.

“Well, I just feel like we’re in this grey area of being really close but having sex. And we both like each other, and we said at the venue, and I just feel like we should just date then.” You set the ice cream and spoon down on the desk. “I get that work complicates things for you. But once we’ve confessed our feelings, I just don’t know what to call this—this friendship?”

Hoseok nodded.

"So, if you don't want to date, that's completely fine. I understand. However, we can't keep having sex like we used to; because I have feelings for you now, and you said you do too, so it's not a good mix."

“That’s fair,” he acknowledged.

“But what do you think? Like, how do you feel about us?” You asked.

He paused and set his spoon on the desk with yours. “I want to date you, Y/N. I just don’t want to get you hurt.” He softly grasped your hands. “The industry can be toxic, and I don’t want to subject you to that.”

“I understand,” you replied, “but I want to date you too, regardless of all the other bullshit. As cheesy as it sounds, all I want is you, Hoseok.”

Hoseok smiled but then pretended to gag.

“Hobi! I was romantic."

“Sorry, but that was so cheesy.” He cringed.

“So, do you want to just start dating, then?” You proposed. “We have the ice cream here; we can pretend to get to know each other more.”

He chuckled. “Sure. Let’s do that.”

Hoseok stood up and held his hand out to you. “Y/N Y/L, will you go on a date with me?”

You laughed but composed yourself. “I would love to, Jung Hoseok.” You took his hand, and he immediately sat back down.

“So, Y/N,” Hoseok began, handing you the partially melted ice cream and your spoon, “what do you like to do on the weekends?”

.

.

1 year later.

“I’m thinking of moving to Korea,” you said. Hoseok turned to you, surprised. “Really? But you’re not based here.” “I know,” you acknowledged, “but I can fly in and skype, or whatever. I can have a home base here, too.” You were visiting Hoseok for a couple weeks before you had to go back home for a clothing launch. Both of you were cuddling at his place when you brought up your idea of moving to Korea. “Of course, it wouldn’t be immediate. I would need to sort things out with Westley and Rachel and organize a place to stay here and a work area. The company is sturdy enough to handle the change.” You reasoned. “You could move in with me,” he suggested, turning his body to face you. “Are you sure?” “Yeah, why not. We’ve been dating for a while now, and it makes sense.” He shrugged. “Unless you don’t want to.” You kissed him. “No, I want to.” Both of you discussed what your move would be like and imagined living together. If you were to look back at how your relationship with Hoseok progressed, you would be shocked. In a matter of a few months, you and Hoseok went from friends to romantic partners. Although you had not come out publicly about your relationship, many people had a sense it existed; but that didn’t matter. You and Hoseok were in a secure and healthy relationship. It was long distanced, but you two made it work by visiting each other when you could and calling almost every day. The only thing that didn’t change was the sex—although it had gotten better. Nevertheless, so much has happened over the past year. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[captainkurosolaire]

I challenge you to pick five Tumblrs in your social circle and tell them something you admire about their blog!

Only 5? I could probably do 500. However, that's determined by what's considered my social circle. I'm often in my head being incredibly social continuously is really a challenge of mine. I'm always actively marching to something, my flame of passion when I have it, I can do some crazy stuff but it diminishes relatively quickly, so I try to cling. But I'll up your thing and list 25 of my fave people. Ask me this same thing in a Month, I'll keep doing 25, until I do all the people. How about that? (If anyone wants to be taken off mention let me know.)

@eligos-venator

- Has one of the most intelligent and sophisticated minds, I've had the pleasure to know. Literally admire all his aesthetics, work, head-cannons, ideas. It's only a benefit that the dude shares some OC characteristics to my own (Winning features). I really enjoyed the short-thread we did. It was incomplete, mainly because of my faults. I want to actually be better to give him a proper delivery and RP worth his time, but he's incredibly worth the investment of eyes.

@mischiefandmystics

- If there was a Mount Rushmoore of writers who kept me in this endeavor, encouraged me. Sun'ra is one of them. His characterization skills, writing, the delivery and how believable his character is, they're masterful acts.

@mishivymendi

- I wouldn't be nearly tamed or as creatively freed if it wasn't for this gem. She broke my shell, I really didn't at a time ever see myself being anything really beyond a smut writer, but Mishi not only saw potential in me, but brought it out. Her stories and world's she brings to life are so majestically colorful.

@asymphonyofash

- My go-to. He's another pillar individual who saw things in me past just the obvious perception, (Probably second longest XIV RPer I know.) Taught me a lot of the lore, I shot him up and he's sort of become my stapled rock. He's right aside Sun'ra met them about the same, both took me under their wing's as I quietly observed and absorbed.

@lavender-hemlock

- We're always up and front with each other, never feeling like I couldn't say anything around, extremely rare to share that these days. Her gif's are legendary, something on my own terms I want to soar in quality. The writing she does is astounding. Character has so many mysterious pages that are quite addictive to want to explore and learn them. (Encore 20 below-cut)

@under-the-blood-moonlight - Her sweetness and artwork and overall is just a friendly presence to be around. I cherish them so much. One I can jive with more darker undertones with. She's one the most hardworking and ambitiously creative people. I'd mail them infinite hugs if could. Thanks for being you! @roxinova - I owe a lot of credit to her. She's constantly OOC and everything was nudging me too be more inclusive to things and involved heavenly. It's rare for me. I'm really horrible about that my autism sets me back socially, I constantly will be drowned by the next day and be reverted back to better off alone, that's my major crux and weakness. But her thoughtfulness, these things, aren't ever foreign to me, I do pay attention probably better than any would ever give me credit. She's a beacon model to have as a friend. @corpse-dancer - Haven't ran into many words with them, but her character, screenshot game, expressiveness, they're all a marvel to constantly see, alongside her attitude and bringing life character. I do think if I were better, we would click quite splendidly. They've recently reminded and motivated me to pick-up my daily-practice, or try too. Keep being a rockstar. @fair-fae - Few who wouldn't know who she is in this community. She's been in my opinion a huge core. I'm certain she's inspired many who weren't even RPers too try it by seeing her at the Quicksands or elsewhere, a tyme ago. Making no exception, I was even one of those. I used to be in QS every-single day and was often doing my shameless stuff. Though her presence first did show me there's a lot more. I admire her in all fields. Also appreciate her adopting me to the FC and her always thinking of others and giving events, or her aesthetics and portrayal, its the epitome of swan elegance. @thorcat - One of my most treasured friends. Been RPing with them for a longtime. There's never anything complicated between us or a rift of drama, it's just let's go and have fun. We really mesh well, I've welcomed nearly ever character and got the privilege to RP with nearly all them. They always open up envelope and help me, settle on back and just laugh. Whether used to be waking up to their characters humping my afk one or use randomly having a hardcore banter between Ufah and Captain and capturing them as a voidal pet. Memories with them isn't something I'd ever want to lose. I love ya! Never stop enjoying life for anything. @lukawarrioroflight - I get in the gutter find myself lacking motivation or writing, discouraged even... But I never have felt, I could ever do any wrong with this person, they bring the light out of me. So no matter what, how many hospital-beds I yearly visit, it's because of this rare nature, that I come back, even if they're the only one's ever to read my stuff. I would do it for them alone. @scholarlybreadbun - I've only been back recently and they've so much warmth. Their presence is the sun of inviting. The couple and posing all the shipping that stuff makes me even melt. I'm not particularly talented in regards to posing couples, but I took notice of them along time ago and set on quietly improving. Really like them for them, wouldn't ever want them to change that. Ideally look forward to be in their orbit longer so I can bask in them. @seascrapes - Been mutual with them for a while. Their aesthetics and character is all S+ level. I appreciate throwing back tagged prompts with them, one of many people I really think would be enjoyable to collab with any other seafarers. The artwork and pieces of Tal Brook, are breathtaking as ever exceptionally too, not to mention. Love your stuff matey, you're a king. @mai-takeda - Is a myth. Her absolutely sheer friendliness and her attitude, are so positive influencing, I was so thrilled to be welcomed with her and boosted by them early on. I couldn't see myself, wanting to exist where they didn't have happiness like the same she always delivers by just doing so many soft-things. Not to mention her writing... She's a whole world to throw yourself gazes

under. @zhauric - It doesn't go far either without the same breath of Mai, I could say about Zhauric. He's someone worthy to look-up and also recognize they're passionate and inviting, hoisting up literally everything. Could easily find any of their characters comrades with my own, or jiving alongside. Not to mention last XIVWrite, they slaughtered it. So enjoyable to read them all. I like how organized their blog is too, motivated me recently to redux my entire thing. @cadrenebula - They have so many diverse characters and their entire roster is vibrant and is imbued with a massive flux of life. They are able to encapsulate so many character's voices and portray them so effectively too, I really admire that greatly. They've made me think bigger and try myself recently at actually undertaking a huge roster of characters too. I've taken many breaks, but I always am so graciously returned often with them close-by and that's so incredibly sacred. I've seen a lot of people get discouraged or quit, leave, departure, etc. But they always seem to have a bigger house then they had last I took a break and I enjoy peaking in. @silvernsteel - Her artist and gif-work are awe-aspiring, there's little unrecognizable by her photo-sets and edits. They helped me even tip-toe into uncharted with giving me the recipes to try incorporating gifs into my arsenal. Plus so delightfully pleasant to actually talk with and just chill. I want nothing less in life, than the beauty they give, to be returned to them for eternity in all their glorious air. If ever needed anything of me, they've got me. @spotofmummery - We talk about passion or friendliness or overall a person to even remotely try to be, I got to include them. Their web-series and writing, screen-work, everything they do is fantastic. And that's furthered back nearly any I've met showcase or immortalize how just genuine of stellar person they are. I wish them always the energy to create and sparks. @snow-covered-moon - They've never been anything less but absolutely a diamond to know. I enjoy their character, their almost always abundant of energy that's very rub inducing. Their WoL character stories, writing, screen-shots, everyday they open up a new pandora box of joy, there's no mistaken love behind their character and that's infectiously easy to also enjoy something when the author does too. Always healthy to be around, I never feel short of vitality when they're close-by. @letheofthelost - Always cheerful or least encapsulates with me, they're a carnival ride. Just pure epic story-telling and engaging equally as passionate, constantly writing characters, not looking for anything outside of RP or anything really just being their selves, they fade all others. I love their presence, them as a person. Enjoy any character they'll ever come and throw under me, or a change of pace. Always feels easily understandable between one another. @crow-iv - Together we're an unfiltered, unstoppable wake of pure passionate writers and art. But I would say they're far ahead of me, in every regard. Already able to portray multiple characters in a scene and do such in-depth thinking, alongside even sketch or draw right afterwards or a scene. They're so talented, huge reason I set-out on giving them a Crew of cast and actual stories to-tell when I'm actually caught up and if they interested and we both have the room, I really think if further myself, I can be better and supply more for them to draw and I want to see them soar. I want to give them all my improvements and effectiveness. @trishelle - They've such a reinforcing personality and aura around them that easily bolsters anything that dares thinking they're about to be depleted so energizing. Aesthetics, characters, all them are so lively that further compliment their own mun's great welcoming presence. Worth hundreds of smiles and stars, keep high. Wish I had more time to dedicate to learning you! But I do notice and appreciate you. @fracturedfantasia - One of my people, I like to retreat and just talk my full

head-cannons with or learn, share insightful and inquisitive thoughts about philosophies and multi-culture things. Or plotting and in-general, they're a well of information and brimming ideas, they are every making of what makes a quality friend. When you can generally be open-about-all that's a real one right there. Their characters and tarot readings, I always would implore if they're offering. Thanks for giving me any-time. You're truly a treasure. @violet-warder - Never have even came to words with them yet unfortunately but didn't mean as a mutual, I haven't admired all their screenies, writing, or the aesthetics they bring of their character. Glamours is real end-game, I like all what you've done and put together. I care strictly about what represent and give, I don't want to see them ever think anyone want's them gone, they are abundantly so talented and possess things only they can deliver. I think recently came back too, and I'm glad to share, hopefully, overtime I can build you better up. Or eventually even talk, but I'm certain you are a busy-body person too, so we're relatable. @layla-grey - I have a lot of underline issues that set me back as a flawed person, but I've never not been anything but someone who's open, it's why I always do include my f-list in anything or etc. I'm not here to present this facade, and really don't care to be an image crafted by another. No one as of recently or now, am I close with as an RP partner or friend with then this stunning masterpiece. I never let-up on story-telling or anything so I can eventually use my Crew or other Characters, to give them anytime a master entertaining day, they push me to not be short-changed. IC and OOC I would devote my full attention too cause they've never shed from me. Didn't ever matter how much silence or anything, they're always around. And don't expect anything out of me or pressure. Just accept me and I equally share that sentiment, I want you to have everything in this world has to offer. ----- This is just a fraction of people, I've paid attention, noticed or know. I've been around in this Community for many years. There's a lot of things I could say about it, more probably then anyone else. But what matters to me, is recognizing the people who are here, that work hard, build others up, support, constantly are a beam. I don't need to interact with everyone, to know when someone is generally out for good. Or they're out for bad I've learned inquisitiveness longtime ago, I had to survive and remain afloat. I just go out and be me, and along the way, I get to find people like these, who help bring out the best me. I am nothing without these people, creators, writers, artist. I'm a terrible friend, horrible person, I don't have the energy to interact NEARLY with as much as I'd like with you all, If I could clone myself, or if things were different, I would drop it all to be in your orbits more if could. But, do know I appreciate you. And even if you ever do depart from this whole community or anything, know that anything you share, or give, that stuff does matter, somewhere, someone was aspired, if nothing else, by me. ONLY you can give the worlds you see and I am thankful. Do love yourself.

[selfilluminatingkyu]

Dancing with the Devil(s): Chapter IV

Previous|Current|Next

F!Reader x Adult Trio; this takes place during the same timeline as Season 3 of HxH but the events with Kuropika and the crew are just shifted a little. Things will align back up within the next couple of chapters.

Warnings: Subtle Mentions of Torture and Abuse.

Word Count: 3.1K (She a lil short) 

As the name rattles off of Hisoka’s lips, you furrow your eyebrows. Is he someone you know? Is he someone you should know? A thousand thoughts run through you head in the span of a second and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that there is a reason behind why Hisoka would ask you whether or not you knew someone. 

You also weren’t completely insufferable in your lack of underworld knowledge. You knew who the Zoldycks were. Had heard many of the wealthy families mention the name before. Wealthy families got to where they were not because they didn’t deal in shady things…they just happened to have enough money to pay someone else to do it for them…and keep it from ever tracing back to them. 

You remember being at a gala not to terribly long ago. The patriarch on the family hosting the event had left midway through to speak to an older man with grey/white hair. You’d gone to the bathroom when he’d walked out of the office with the other man—who’d looked extremely pale and weathered as compared to when they’d left. You’d smiled and apologized, telling them you’d gotten turned around on your way back to the party, and the man with the grey/white hair, Zeno Zoldyck you’d come to learn, had simply smiled at you before nodding to the host. The other man had disappeared out of view and the two of you were left alone.  

“My, my you have grown into a beautiful young woman since the last time I saw you y/n.” He’d said and you could only blink, registering quickly the sheer power rolling off this man. There was no malice behind it, nor intimidation effect, it was simply him. 

“I’m sorry sir, and forgive me for being rude, but do we know each other? I don’t recall ever having met you before.” You said, smiling softly but anxiously, wracking your brain for anything to give you a clue as to not incur your mother’s wrath for forgetting a powerful man’s name and presence. 

He chuckled, walking closer to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “No need to worry dear, we’ve never met before per se, but I do know who you are. I’m well aware of your parents’…pursuits. Your name has come up in conversation before and the last time I saw you or a photo of you, you were quite small. Maybe no older than 10 or 11. I was merely making an observation.” 

You smiled again and nodded you head, understanding and yet feeling embarrassed and ashamed that you probably looked no better than a filly up for auction, because truthfully…you weren’t. 

“Oh! Well it’s nice to meet you—” 

“Zeno, Zeno Zoldyck. And it’s nice to finally meet you as well y/n y/l/n. And I’m sure this won’t be the last time we see each other.” 

Thinking back on that situation now, back on the first time you ever met Zeno, you wondered how exactly it was your name had ever befallen the ears of the Zoldyck patriarch. Regardless, to be asked about a Zoldyck was odd, even coming from Hisoka. 

“I know of the Zoldycks, I’ve met Zeno a couple of times. But I’m not well versed in the members of the family. Is there any particular reason why you ask Hisoka?” You ask, thinking it over more as you answered, wondering where the missing link was in your knowledge. But when you looked up, in that moment, when the words had only just left you mouth, the look in Hisoka’s eyes made you think that not knowing may have been a small grace than a hinderance. And in that moment, you were somewhat grateful the water was already growing cold, because the shock of chill that ran through the air wasn’t nearly as potent. 

The small seep of bloodlust in the air made you take in a breath and try to sink into the furthest side of the tub away from him. The hairs on your body stood up and gooseflesh peppered across your skin. You bit back the whimper that wanted to escape and instead looked at the imposing man before you with wide eyes. The shift in demeanor, you realized, was not direct at you but something else entirely. 

“Did you ever see the man you were initially going to be engaged to?” Hisoka asked and this made you pause because you had told Chrollo of your past but not the rest of the Troupe and you were certain that it was not information passed along to them as they’d been dismissed when the discussion had happened. 

Was this slip up intentional, to make you put the pieces together or had Hisoka’s apparently bloodlust caused his tongue to run away from him? If you were a wagering girl, and you really weren’t, you would’ve bet on the former instead of the latter. Hisoka was calculating and manipulative. You knew his interest in you had made you into a new toy to play with and this seemed like a twist in his play with you. Keeping this in mind, you responded accordingly. 

“Yes, once, late one night when I snuck into my father’s office. I wanted to see what he looked like. This elusive person who was supposedly going to be my husband. He was attractive, but I never was told his name because, for whatever reason, my parents ended up forgoing the engagement. I was never told why exactly, and it never dawned on me to ask honestly.” You chose your words carefully, watching him the entire time to gage the way he reacted. 

That wasn’t entirely a lie, it wasn’t also entirely the truth. You knew why you parents had never gone through with the engagement; the family, while incredibly powerful and wealthy, was part of the seedy underground and that didn’t bode well with their agenda. A family like the Zoldycks fit perfectly within that description you realized. Although, it was an inclining you’d had after the second time you’d met the Zoldyck patriarch and his son, Silva, the current head of the family and business. They’d been nice, familiar even, and they’d been assessing you. At the time, you hadn’t exactly been sure as to why, but you’d wondered if they’d been the family who’d been very adamant about marrying you to their eldest son. 

However, they thought had derailed when Zeno had made an offhanded comment about wondering if you’d be into younger men and you’d been utterly confused. Were they not them? Were you mistaken and they too were now interested after meeting you? You’d never truly gotten your answer though because the next time you saw them, it had been a strained meeting as you’d been their target. Why Zeno had come and told your parents that information instead of just doing his job, and risking his reputation in the process, had puzzled you even more. 

“HISOKA! Enough!” The roar from Phinks had startled you as had the slamming of your bedroom door. Curling in on yourself, you’d just managed to cover yourself before Phinks and Shalnark had busted through.  “Keep your bloodlust in check, it’s giving me a headache. And what are you even doing in here you pervy bastard? Leave the poor girl alone. You’re needed downstairs anyway, something’s come up.” 

Both blonde men gave you a quick once over, probably making sure that you weren’t harmed by the magician but nodding their heads towards the door. Shalnark gave you a smile and a wave before trailing behind Phinks. “Come on Hisoka, don’t want to keep the boss waiting.” 

Hisoka turned, beginning to move towards the door again before stopping. “Don’t think too hard on it little dove. We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” 

And with that he’d walked out, slamming the bedroom door behind him, leaving you utterly confused and feeling chilled to the bone. 

Was this Illumi Zoldyck guy your previous potential fiancé? 

Was there another member of the Zoldyck’s who had almost taken that roll instead? 

Or was Hisoka just trying to find out some sort of other information that you just weren’t able to see yet? 

You didn’t know the answer to those questions right now…but you were certain you were going to get them, whether you wanted to know or not. 

That night, you’d gone to bed shortly after you’d forced yourself to climb out of the bathtub. The water had grown cold, and your skin was pruning uncomfortably. The peace in which you had hope to find, even a sliver of, had never come to you, so you hoped maybe sleep would just be a void. 

And while you hadn’t been completely wrong, you also hadn’t been completely right. 

At first, you’d fallen asleep easily, not even the noises of what was taking place downstairs had deterred you from finding solace in the black abyss. However, that had apparently been short lived as a few hours later, you’d slipped into a nightmare.  

You were surrounded by people you didn’t know, and they were talking about you, looking down on you. It was then you realized that you were strapped to a table and that you had wires running from your body to machines. They didn’t appear to be normal medical equipment though, but you couldn’t say for certain that they were made out of nen either. Regardless, seeing the wiring connecting to your body and then to unknown machines left your blood running cold and your mind running a mile a minute as to how to get yourself out of this situation. 

“She’s extraordinary. Just extraordinary! With powers like hers…you could rule the world…could rule worlds. There is an unlimited number of things you could do and accomplish with this kind of power. Who knows where it stops!” The excited voice from beside you startled you. 

The small man in a lab coat and mask was standing closest too you, scribbling things on a clipboard as he looked at you in awe. You tried to ask what was going on, how you had gotten here, what he was talking about, but nothing came out. Not even a whimper and whisper of breath. You frantically looked around, trying to find a face, a friend, anyone you recognized and kept coming up empty. The faces were blurred, and your eyes began to strain. The sound of voices chattering and a machine clicking barely registered to you…

…but the pain certainly did.

Excruciating was putting it mildly and you quickly understood why you were bound, outside of not allowing you to flee your captors. The pain seared through even molecule in your body and those that it hadn’t even created yet. Your back arched off the table and your mouth dropped open in a silent scream. Your throat felt raw, like you’d done it before…possibly even several times before. The only thing that actually seemed to escape you were the tears from the corner of your eyes as the pain stopped and deftly you registered that the machines had stopped but the voices had picked up. 

What they were saying, you couldn’t tell. But as the noise kicked up tenfold, the pain did as well, and this time when you screamed…a noise came with it. 

“Y/n wake up! It’s just a dream! You’re fine. Wake up!” You bolted up right, screaming yourself hoarse as the pain creeped its way from fantasy into reality. It jarred you to the bone and without thinking you struck out at the closest thing, sending it hurling away from you in an effort to end whatever was causing you pain. 

What you hadn’t realized was that that “thing” in which you had sent flying had been Chrollo. Didn’t realize it was him till he was nearly striking the wall on the other side of the room, caught off guard by your sudden attack and the power behind it. It was also then that you realized there was an aura radiating around you and there was immense power coming from it. 

You looked to Chrollo wondering if he had always been this strong and had somehow been masking it. But looking at him, seeing the wild, almost gleeful look in his eyes, made you realize that the power was not coming from him…but yourself. 

“I need you to breathe for me y/n and focus on controlling the aura that’s around you. If you don’t get a control over it, it’ll continue to seep out of you, and you’ll pass out from the loss.” He spoke softly, walking up to you slowly like you would a terrified animal, afraid that in its fear, will lash out at you and go for your jugular. 

However, his tactics were a bit sabotaged when Franklin and Feitan came flying into the room, nen activated and ready to take on anyone who posed a threat. The hostile energy pouring out of them had your fear peaking again, the faces from your dream flashing before your eyes and the power in which you’d thrown at Chrollo was surging again, zeroing in on the new threats and detonating without so much as a blink from you. 

Both of their boys went flying as well, Chrollo, seemingly reading your nanosecond of a shift in body language, braced in anticipation, activating his own aura, and deflecting easily. As he seemed to watch two of his strongest members go soaring across the room as if it was no big deal, the look in his eyes seemed to increase tenfold and suddenly he was behind you, wrapping himself around you and smothering you face into his chest. 

“Shhh, you’re okay. They aren’t going to hurt you. No one here is going to hurt you little one. I promise.” He stroked your hair and while you realize the sentiment that he was going for, the affection left you feeling even more displaced. 

You could feel your body seemingly gearing up for another act and, despite still being unsure as to where these people lie on the spectrum between friend and foe, you did not want to hurt them anymore than you already had. With that in mind, you tried to even your breathing out; tried to think of a dam stopping the free flow of water, and all thing similar to keep yourself from exploding with aura again. And that, coupled with Chrollo’s continued words of assurance, seemed to do the trick, and stop up the free flow of energy. 

As the bubble around you seemed to smooth and flow but not run, you realized you’d started to sob at some point, the tears streaming down your face and a near continual stream of whimpers and apologies pouring from your mouth. Apologies to Chrollo for the initial attack, apologies to Franklin and Feitan who’d only come to make sure everything was okay. You didn’t know what was going on or how things had escalated so quickly but you were sorry and you hadn’t meant to hurt them. 

You weren’t entirely certain the message hadn’t gotten out clearly, if the pissed off look on Feitan’s face was anything to go by, but you weren’t entirely certain that hadn’t been there prior as the man seemed to wear a scowl frequently. 

“What…happened…?” Feitain asked and you could feel Chrollo shift, looking at them while maintaining the comforting stroking on your hair. 

“I’m not sure. I came up here to check on her when I felt a spike in aura and heard her crying out. I couldn’t sense another presence outside of her own, but we’ve met nen users capable of cloaking themselves before. However, when I came in, she was thrashing about, when I woke up her…the same thing that happened to you happened to me.” 

“Clearly not as hard though. You seem fine. I feel like I’m going to be sore for days after that power she just threw at us.” Franklin muttered rubbing at his arm and stomach. 

“Such…a…. baby…” Feitan muttered, earning a side-eyed glare from Franklin. 

“I wouldn’t say it was any less powerful, it was more like she registered who was in the room with her right as she threw the power out. I’m almost certain she did the same with you, and my presence so close by also muted her attack, afraid she’d hurt me in an effort to harm you two.” 

Franklin and Feitan looked from Chrollo to you and then back to Chrollo before looking at each other in disbelief. “You’re saying that wasn’t her full power?” Franklin asked, the shock and awe clearly evident in his voice. 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I can’t even begin to feel the depths of her power, let alone where it ends.” 

The words seemed to hang in the air, all three men seemingly having a silent conversation that you were not perve to, nor did you think you ever would be. You had known from the start, regardless of what degree of comradery you obtained with these people you would always be an outsider, never allowed to fully know the scope of everything. You’d never be told all of the details, never know the full extent of all of their abilities, never know the ins and outs of it all. And you did not mind that, not at the moment at least, because for what you did not know, you had come to understand that these were dangerous people, people that were probably on several hit lists and wanted by many…and you did not know if you ever wanted to truly be associated with them. 

While sitting in the tub, you’d come to the conclusion that you would use them to obtain the skills necessary to save your younger siblings…and that would be the extent of it. You were not a killer, did not fancy yourself someone who killed for sport or out of the desire to prove you were stronger or better than others. No, you did not believe your wants in life to align at all with those of the people in this group nor did you think they ever would. So you’d do what was necessary to be able to get your siblings back, to be able to protect them and keep them safe till they were capable of doing as such on their own. But once you’d achieved that goal…you were as good as gone. 

[fuchsiagrasshopper]

Endless Love

Author’s Note: This is my piece I wrote for #SalDeLysFirstYear challenge. I poured a lot more into this than I realized I had in me, so hopefully it’s actually good lol. Thanks to @saldelys for allowing me to take part!

Prompt #3 Time has brought your heart to me, I have loved you for a thousand years, I’ll love you for a thousand more… Pairing: Ivar x Reader Words: 5796 Warnings: Angst, Swearing Ivar was back again. He had promised himself last time would be the final visit to the outdoor Cafe. The coffee was subpar, and he was fairly certain he could make a better lemon bar on a first attempt then the sour tart they were serving. It had been by mistake that he had happened to visit it at all. He had been outdoors enjoying the last days of summer, a day off from work, and the chance to get away from his brothers. Crossing the street, his intended destination had been to the train station, but he never got there.

On that day you had stood in his way. Not literally, but it was the look of you that had him all twisted. You were sitting alone at a table with your coffee, reading from a book like he had seen so many others had done before. The novel in question was ‘The Devil in the White City’, not exactly light reading, and not a story Ivar would have bothered himself to read. On the surface you were ordinary, but beneath his chest, his heart was sure you were anything but. Something had brought him to you, and there was a feeling of knowing you when he had yet to hear you speak.

He chose not to approach you. Growing up tethered to mother’s apron strings, and being labeled clever but strange, had made him a target by the other children. It’s difficult to grow out of that mindset, and as a result, he had turned into a bitter and lonely young man. No Ivar did not approach you. With none of the charisma or confidence of his brothers, he instead had swiveled to a spare table and had watched you behind a one-page menu.

Coming back to today, that’s what he was doing once again. Not every escapade was successful, and often he made the trip in vain when you didn’t show. You weren’t preoccupied with a book today, so he had to be careful as to not be caught gawking. Ivar had a penchant for photography, but it would have been a little presumptuous to you and everyone around if he started snapping in your direction. Instead, he had chosen the discreet, and shameful, way of turning the flash off on his phone camera snapshot. It wasn’t a quality photo, and he would delete it once this phase passed, but for the time being, it was a pleasant secret for his eyes only.

…  

Ivar watched you as if you were the only one on the boat. Bjorn had returned from a raid, and you had gone with him and Hvitserk, your first raid as a shieldmaiden. He hated the idea that you were off in different lands, fulfilling your dreams as being Viking while he was left alone in Kattegat. Of course, he had never voiced this grievance to you. Your smile when you had told him the news had been so bright,  and he wouldn’t be the reason for it to dim. The days without your company had been long and stagnant, and a chill had settled over Kattegat as if you had taken the warmth of the sun with you.

But you had returned, and things would be as they had always been. You were his friend, and he quietly admired you, longing for your love but accepting your friendship if it meant having you close.

You came to the Great Hall with Hvitserk, both sea-worn from your travels, but with smiles that spoke of the success of your adventures. Hvitserk was starved for food, and you began down the line with Ubbe, greeting each Ragnarsson with an embrace. Once you broke away from Sigurd, you made your way towards Ivar, and he almost shouted how glad he was to see you safe. Instead, he came off as aloof, summoning a small smirk as you knelt down before him. You always did. Unbothered by his typical greeting, you pulled him into a hug. Ivar squeezed back. If he could keep you beside him always, he would.

You began to pull away, and that’s when it happened. It was a gesture you only reserved specially for him, something that Ivar clung to in the hopes that it meant you loved him more than his brothers. You gave his left earlobe a small tug between two fingers, and you gazed into his eyes with a smile that made his heartache.

“Hello, Ivar.”

…

“I knew there was a reason you kept coming back here, and I knew it couldn’t be the coffee,” A voice sounded from behind him.

Ivar panicked. It was Hvitserk, and he had Ubbe with him. How had they found out about his little excursions? Yes, the three of them were roommates, but he was always careful to leave when they couldn’t notice. You were far enough away that you didn’t pick up on the commotion happening, and Ivar was quick to indicate to his brothers to sit. He threw them both a harsh glare, and he had this feeling of shame as if he had been caught doing something inappropriate. 

“What do you want?” He hissed.

“We wanted to hang out with you today, but you were already gone when we got up,” Ubbe said.

“Good choice brother,” Hvitserk interrupted as he nodded in your direction. “Have you talked with her yet, or are you waiting until you’re the last two people on Earth?”

“Leave,” He ground out. They were ruining everything…even though he didn’t know what that meant. He hadn’t even approached you yet, and maybe he was embarrassed because Hvitserk had been able to guess that.

Ubbe craned his neck towards your table with a frown. “Who’s the old man with her?”

“What old man?” Ivar spun in his seat and saw that you had stood to embrace the older gentleman who had joined you. “I don’t know, a grandfather maybe?”

“Or maybe he’s her meal ticket,” Hvitserk said with a snicker. “She could be a gold digger, or maybe she’s got a thing for older men. Bad news for you Ivar, guess you aren’t her type.”

“Shut up, she’s not like that.” Okay, so maybe he didn’t know you enough (or at all) to say such a thing, but he was confident there was nothing sinister about you.

“How would you know, have you talked to her?” Ubbe asked, but more with concern than goading. 

Ivar didn’t answer but mumbled something scathing under his breath. Why couldn’t they leave well enough alone? He was content in his routine to watch you. Eventually, he would move on and stop coming to the Cafe, but he had wanted to do that on his own terms. 

“Time to find out. I’ll just ask the old guy,” Hvitserk said, rising from his seat. You had left the table for a moment, leaving your companion alone.

“No, don’t,” Ivar pleaded, but his brother was already out of reach. “Fuck.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Ubbe asked when they were alone.

Ivar kept his eyes glued on Hvitserk as he chatted with the old man. What’s the worst that could happen? You could be what his brother had accused you of, or you could find out about his hobby of watching you and be disgusted. Any scenario that played in his head went from bad to worse, and Ivar was certain this would be his last time seeing you.

“You both have ruined everything.”

Ubbe rolled his eyes and sighed with exhaustion. “Ruined what? Was she supposed to pick up your interest by osmosis?”

“My interest was to take her photograph and maybe ask her to be a model for some shoots. I didn’t want to date her or anything,” Ivar defended. It was a lie, and a poor one at that judging by Ubbe’s doubtful frown.

“If you say so.”

Ivar turned his gaze back to Hvitserk, who was still engaged in conversation. You hadn’t returned to the table yet, but he didn’t want you to come back to find his brother chatting with your friend (hopefully grandfather). When Hvitserk finally stood, he shook the older fellow’s hand in parting and made his way back over to their table. Ivar didn’t like the impassive look on his face, he much preferred the goofy grin. Serious Hvitserk made his stomach clench with anxiety.

“Took you long enough,” Ivar said, gauging his reaction. “What happened?”

“Yeah, who’s the old guy,” said Ubbe.

Hvitserk leaned on his chair but did not take a seat. “I tried to put in a good word for you, brother, but the old man said she’s married to his grandson.”

“Shit,” Ubbe cursed.

Ivar sunk back into the stiff plastic of the chair, blinking with comprehension. So that was it. You were married. It seemed a cruel joke, or a curse, that someone else had met you first. He didn’t even know your name.

“Ivar,” Hvitserk called, waving his hand in front of his face. “Did you hear me?”

“I think I’m finished with my coffee,” He replied, ignoring the question. “Do you want to go do something?”

Ubbe frowned. “Do you?”

“Yes, something…anything. Let’s just go." 

Ivar was grabbing his crutches and propelling himself out of his seat before either of them could get another word in. You had made it back to your table, and it was burning his eyes to look in your direction. He needed to get far away, even as his heart leaped to his throat. It was like losing a friend or someone who had been lost to him before. Ivar didn’t understand what he was feeling, all he knew was he wanted to run.

…

Ivar couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Down by the river, Ubbe and a handful of warriors were preparing to set sail back to Kattegat from York, and you were among them. The betrayal and the audacity of you had him seeing red. He could not let you leave.

Perhaps you thought you could escape unnoticed, but you did not keep your head down as Ubbe did. Ivar always noticed you, everywhere you went, and you would have never slipped away unseen.

”(Y/N),“ He demanded, reaching for you even as you had your arms full with supplies. "Where are you going?”

This time your eyes did not reach his, and you passed your armful of provisions to another warrior loading up the boat.

“I’m going home Ivar. I do not want to live in England anymore.”

“Neither do I, and I do plan on returning once we’ve taken our share. Stay, you cannot leave me.”

You crossed your arms, a frown contorting your face. “Yes I can, and I will. Your hatred and misery are leading down a path I refuse to be a part of. Claim your glory and your legacy if you must, but I won’t be a part of it.”

Ivar lashed out at you before he could stop himself, latching onto your arm with a bruising grip that made you draw a sharp breath. “If you leave me now, I will hate you forever.”

You struggled in his grasp, and Ivar let go once he realized he had harmed you. The indentations of his fingers on your flesh were red and ugly. “Then hate me if you must. Know that I will mourn the loss of our friendship, but if you can renounce me so easily, I wonder if I was mistaken for thinking it was real.”

“(Y/N), please,” He pleaded, voice wavering as childish tears began to fall. “I’m sorry.”

You started to back away, back into the company of Ubbe and the other deserters. “So am I.”

On that day Ivar watched you disappear into the horizon, parting as enemies. He wondered if you ever knew that he was in love with you, but he realized the answer didn’t matter. Either way, it would only bring him pain. You had left him, and you deserved his resentment.

…

It had been weeks since Ivar had last visited the Cafe. He made good on his promise to himself to not return, going out of his way to avoid it even if it meant pushing his legs to have to go to a further train station. His thoughts would sometimes drift and dwell on you, and he had yet to delete the blurred image of you from his phone. Baby steps. 

His brothers had encouraged him to put himself out there in the world of dating. They mistook his poor reaction that day for loneliness, and after growing tired of their hassling, he had agreed to try. The handful that he went on were not all awful, though there was the matter of working around his legs. Some girls tried to overcompensate by complimenting everything else about him, while others couldn’t disguise the fact that they were looking at his crutches. He tried not to hold it against them. It was his hang-ups, not theirs.

He had taken the night off from his life of dating to go to the store. Hvitserk had Thora over, and Ubbe was out on a date, so he hadn’t exactly felt like third-wheeling. Mumbling some excuse about needing milk, he had slunk out the door and hit the streets just as the sun was setting. 

Perusing the aisles, Ivar wandered aimlessly as he picked up items, only to put them back again. He already had the milk, his whole purpose for being there, but he didn’t want to go back to the apartment. There was a chance he’d walk in on a compromising moment between Hvitserk and Thora, and he wanted to save them all the embarrassment.

“Excuse me, can I get by?”

Ivar tilted his head towards the voice and was startled to find you standing there with him in the aisle. Gods were you a lovely sight. You were bundled in autumn gear, and you clung to a basket with the few groceries you had picked up. Ivar couldn’t help but notice the look of weariness on your face, your shoulders sagged with depletion as if you were carrying the weight of the world.

“Sorry, go ahead,” He mumbled as he shifted on his crutches so you could get through. 

You didn’t immediately take the chance to go, instead, you stood with a puzzled expression that had him avoiding your eyes. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“No,” He remarked too quickly, and it came off as defensive. 

“Wait, I remember now,” You continued, a small smile lifting the corners of your lips. “You go to the same Cafe as me.”

Ivar sputtered as he tried to answer. You had noticed him. Did you catch him when he took your photo? Most likely not, or you probably would have avoided him; the weird guy with the lame legs from the Cafe. 

“Oh, right.” 'Smooth, Ivar’, he could hear Hvitserk say in his head.

“I haven’t seen you there in a while.”

“I’ve been busy.” It came off as terse, and he regretted using such a tone with you.

“Sorry, that was me being rude,” You replied, bouncing from one foot to another. “It’s none of my business. I should let you finish your shopping.”

You were quick to jostle past, nearly losing the contents of your basket as you went. Ivar didn’t like how skittish you had become, and if that was the last conversation he was to have with you, he didn’t want it to end that way.

“What’s your name?”

You spun back around on the heel of your brown suede boot. “I’m (Y/N),” You said as if anticipating the question.

“Ivar,” He returned in kind.

“It’s nice to meet you Ivar. Maybe I’ll see you around again. We can talk over crappy coffee or something.”

“Maybe.” Ivar smiled, and the warm-hearted feeling stayed with him long after he had returned home with the milk.

…

When Ivar saw you again, you were on opposing sides. You and Ubbe had sided with the treacherous Lagertha. Seeing you standing there with his mother’s murderer had him abandoning any kind feelings he had towards you, but seeing the man standing by your side made his heartbeat with rage. You were round in the middle from pregnancy, and the warrior who held you close must have been your husband.

You were no longer his, and you never had been. Seeing you now made that clear. He hated the power you still unknowingly had over him. If you came back to him now, even in your condition, he would let you. But he couldn’t keep on pretending that everything was alright. He would see Lagertha’s fate sealed by his hands, and you would not get in his way.

Hvitserk had remained loyal at his side, but Ivar could see his mask of resolve slipping the moment he spotted you and Ubbe.

“Having second thoughts?” He provoked.

Hvitserk straightened his back, and shot him a scowl, “No, but this feels wrong. We have family and friends on that side. What are we doing with Harald?”

“The usurper stands there as well. I’d align with Loki himself if it brought me my revenge.”

“And what about (Y/N)? She’s pregnant, don’t you care what happens to her?”

Ivar felt as if a shadow had passed over him, and when he looked at you across the field, you were staring back in despair. “(Y/N) doesn’t need me anymore. She has chosen the failing side, and it will cost her everything.”

Hvitserk let out a harsh laugh. “This is why she left you. You have a stone heart brother, and only Mother could love you.”

“I don’t need love, I need vengeance, and I will have it on Lagertha, Bjorn, Ubbe, (Y/N), and anyone else who stands in my way. Don’t make the same mistake, brother,” Ivar flared back, digging his crutches into the earth as he started back to his chariot.

Angry tears threatened to run down his face, and he wiped them away with a stubborn brush of his hand. It was difficult to hear anything above the whipping wind, but he could make out his heart beating at a furious pace. The pain he felt would recede, it always did. He had piled up all of the rejection and losses that life had brought him, but he never thought you would be among them. Today he looked his last upon you, for tomorrow would bring war and legacy. 

…

Ivar couldn’t believe he had fallen back into the same rut. Any of the blind dates he had been set up on had come to a dead stop, and he was back to frequenting the Cafe. The worst part was he had been there enough times that he was starting to enjoy the taste of the weak coffee. He considered it progress that if you weren’t there when he arrived, he wouldn’t wait around for you to show.

On the day that you had been there, you had displayed genuine excitement to see him, and Ivar didn’t know how to handle such a reaction. He had to keep reminding himself that you were married, but every minute he spent in your presence continued to chip away at his resolve. You smelt like patchouli and lemon, and the way you spoke with your hands had him laughing. He couldn’t remember being around someone who was so unabashedly themselves, and he knew if he continued to see you, he wouldn’t stop. You gave him all sorts of bad ideas.

“It looks like rain,” You said, glancing up at the grey sky that was lousy with clouds. 

“We could go somewhere else,” Ivar suggested out of the need to keep the afternoon going. He didn’t want to part from you yet. “Somewhere warm, and dry.”

“My apartment is close, we could go there.”

You said it with such innocence as if you had just been discussing the daily news. The proper respect to the implication behind such an invite had not been given. What kind of woman are you? His heart sank in disappointment.

“What about your husband,” He said, taking a terse step back to judge you.

You had the decency to look surprised, and you gave him a hard stare right back. “How do you know about Ben?”

Ivar flushed pink. In his quick anger, he forgot he’d have to explain that he had been watching you from afar for some time. “I…well…”

You interrupted his stammering, realization coming to you. “It wasn’t your brother asking after me that day, he was doing it for you.”

“You knew about that?”

“Wally told me when I got back to the table, but you guys were already clearing out. I didn’t see you again after that day until the market.”

“Yeah, well, you’re married, so I didn’t see the point,” He mumbled, looking away from you.

“I’m a widow, Ivar,” You said, and that quickly grabbed his attention. “I think you and I need to have a talk because you were looking at me just now as if I was the worst type of person, and I don’t like that.”

Ivar felt a flurry of emotions, but at the brunt of it all was guilt. He had practically called you a harlot in so many words, only to discover your husband was dead. He was lucky you didn’t kick his crutch out from under him and leave him on the cold ground. 

The first drop of rain hit Ivar between the eyes, and you put a gentle gloved hand on his arm to get him moving again. You didn’t get far before the sky let go, and you were both trudging through puddles. The rain was making his grip on his crutches slick, and he struggled to keep up with your pace while also trying to avoid falling. He felt you slow down beside him, and he felt bad that you were getting soaked just because of him.

“Sorry,” He spoke in a soft manner.

“Don’t be. I’ve been going for walks in the rain for a while now. It’s the only way I can cry in public without people noticing.”

Ivar paused to study you, and that’s when he recognized the same look of sadness that you had worn that day in the market.

“Your husband passed away recently, didn’t he?”

“Just a few months, yeah,” You said while ducking into an alcove of a building. “This is me. Let’s head upstairs.”

Ivar nodded. He was relieved to be getting out of the rain, but a nervous sweat had him hot at the collar. You were about to reveal something personal to him, even when you didn’t owe him an explanation. He hadn’t meant to insert himself into your life in such a short time in a manner such as this, but he would listen to your story. In the end, he hoped he would be one step closer to being a part of your life.

…

On the shores of Kattegat laid the fallen. Bjorn had not been able to surmount Oleg’s forces, and Ivar had come out the victorious son of Ragnar. While the Rus celebrated in the Great Hall, Ivar had escaped outside to the familiar sites of his home. It had been in a different life when he had crawled through the sand. Now he stood tall on his crutches, weaving slowly through the dead. He was searching for his enemies, Bjorn and Harald, to see if their defeat had been decided.

The sun was sinking low, and without the light, it would be difficult to determine the identities of the dead. He pushed on overturned bodies with his crutch, sometimes remembering the faces from his past, while others were strangers. It was an empty victory. He was still under the thumb of Oleg, and he could not restore glory to his home until they were gone. That battle was yet to come.

“…Ivar?”

A weak voice called to him, carried by the wind. Ivar’s eyes flitted back and forth as he tried to find the source. 

“Where are you,” He called, possibly to no one.

“I’m here.”

The voice was not as far away as he thought. He caught the motion of a limp hand waving through the stillness. Ivar made his way through the remnants of the battlefield until he came to the body perched up against a boulder. It was you. He had not recognized your call, most of it lost and weakened, much like your body. You were battered and bleeding, and with the mark of death soon upon you. 

Ivar dropped to his knees and crawled to you. The moment he touched you, you fell into his arms. Your breathing was a series of harsh wheezes, and your eyelids fluttered. 

“You found me,” You croaked out, holding your hand to the ax wound at your gut. A slow way to die.

“(Y/N),” Ivar whispered, brushing your hair from your forehead. You were sweating and cold to the touch. “Why were you here?”

“Kattegat is my home. I would never abandon it.”

“Where is your family? I need to get you to them,” He said, recalling that you would have a small child waiting for you.

“My family is dead, Ivar. I will go to them now, and be reunited in Valhalla.”

“Stupid woman. If you had just stayed with me, I could have protected you.” He didn’t just mean from this battle, but since you had left him in York. “I loved you.”

“I loved you as well, but I did not want your path to be mine,” You said and you reached for his ear, giving the lobe a small tug that caused his heart to burn in agony. “Perhaps the Gods will find a way for us to start again. When Thor cracks his hammer, and the storm fades, we will find each other again, Ivar the Boneless.”

“Don’t go, not yet.” Angry tears ran lines through the blood and mud on his face. There was no point in his pleading. You belonged to the Gods now.

“Odin is calling me,” You said, and your arm fell down at your side. “Please, Ivar, I do not want to die this way. My breath is leaving me too slowly, and every beat of my heart is as long as a life age. I want to go, but I am afraid.”

Your ramblings were turning incoherent, and he wondered if you could still see his face. Many of his tears had fallen onto your cheeks, but you had not flinched. Ivar knew what he had to do, but he did not know if he had the strength to ease your passing. 

“Please.”

You were staring up at the sky, and Ivar felt invisible. His hand moved with precision, and he brought his knife down to the hilt through to your heart. A gasp escaped you, and then an endless stillness. You had a vacant expression of peace, and Ivar closed your eyes to rest.

When night came, he had managed without aid in loading your body onto a boat. It was just something he had to see done alone. Being away from you for so long, he had no mementos to send with you, save one. He had set upon you his hammer of Thor while remembering your words with the hope that it would see you to the halls of Valhalla. With one arrow your vessel was set ablaze in the twilight, and Ivar was up 'til dawn as you drifted passed the horizon, and beyond his sight. But you would never be beyond his heart, and time would bring you back to him. He would find you again, even if it took a thousand years.

…

Ivar followed you into your apartment, both dripping wet from the rain. He stood on your doormat, hair clinging to his neck as he balanced on his crutches. You kicked off your shoes before shrugging out of your coat.

“Let me grab you a towel,” You said, shooting him a quick smile before you ventured down the hallway. 

Ivar stood unmoving while he tried to absorb everything around him. Was this your apartment, or had your husband lived here before what he assumed was an untimely death? There was a hint of eucalyptus and mint in the air, and other than the wet shoes and your abandoned coat, everything appeared to be in order.

He was saved from drowning in his own thoughts when you returned with a purple towel. Grateful to finally be dry, he took it from your outstretched hand, trading you for one of his crutches. He swayed only for a moment before finding his balance as he toweled off his damp hair.

“Need a hand?” Your timid voice broke through even as he had his head turned.

“I’m fine, thanks.” He managed to keep from being curt, knowing you weren’t asking out of pity.

“Well, at least come inside. I feel strange making you stand in my doorway.”

You started ahead, and Ivar followed. He noticed you had already dried your own hair, the ends frizzy and curling. Now in the comfort of your own home, you were without the bundled garments he always met you in, and beneath was a blue dress with black nylons. Stockings on a woman were enough to drive any man crazy, and he tried to keep his eyes trained forward. He was here to listen to your story, not ogle you like a schoolboy. 

The rain outside had picked up strength and was pelting your window in swells. You switched on a table lamp, a dim warmth glowing in the room. Ivar felt some shame that his first instinct was to check for any framed photographs of your husband. He needed to confirm his existence, and maybe compare himself to the man you had loved and lost.

“Did you want anything to drink?” You interrupted his investigating, bringing his eyes back to you. You were lovely, standing there against the backdrop of the raging storm. 

“I’m alright,” Ivar replied, anxious to get to the truth of the matter. 

You took the towel that hung in his grasp at his side and brought it back to the side of his face that was still wet. Once you were satisfied, you gave his earlobe a small tug, and it sent his heart into a frenzy. Where did that come from?

“Good as new,” You said, a mesmerizing look glazing over your eyes.

“Thanks,” Ivar murmured, touching his ear.

You sighed as you parked yourself on the sofa, breaking the spell. “Sorry, I’m stalling. It’s just…it’s difficult to rehash a chapter I only just finished closing.”

“I don’t want to force you,” He explained, taking the other side of the sofa. “Maybe I should go.”

“No, I’m not letting you go back out in the rain. Besides, I owe you an explanation,” You paused a moment, gathering your strength before continuing. “Ben died from stage four pancreatic cancer this past spring. He wasn’t sick when we first got together, but he got his diagnosis only two months into our relationship. By the time he was diagnosed it had already metastasized, and the chemo was ineffective. When the doctor gave him a year to live, that’s when he proposed to me.”

Ivar felt his face sink into a frown as you told the story. Your husband had been dealt a bad hand, unjust and cruel. He suddenly felt ridiculous for even being jealous of a dead man. A great evil had been done to Ben, the work of forces unknown, and Ivar was a mix of elation and regret. He was strangely fortunate that the man was no longer in your life, and it was an awful thing to say, let alone think.

“How long into your relationship was that?”

“About five months. When I think back on it, I’m not even sure if our dating would have progressed to marriage naturally. Our dates went from restaurants to hospital appointments, but I never considered walking away even when Ben and his family all suggested it was a lot for a new relationship,” You said, bringing your legs up onto the couch, and you jumped when a thrash of thunder boomed outside. “I never thought of it that way though. When Ben proposed, he said it was because he wanted to experience being married before cancer took him. I’m not sure if either of us were in love, but we cared about one another, and at the time that was enough. The only thing I had to lose was Ben, which eventually I did. He didn’t even last the full year that the doctor had estimated.”

Ivar didn’t know what to say. 'I’m sorry’ was trite and cliche, and he was certain you had been told so enough. Though your voice wavered, you did not cry. He wanted to hold you close, but he didn’t have the courage to cross the invisible barrier that seemed to keep you trapped away from him.

“Thank you for telling me. I’m terrible for accusing you of wanting to be unfaithful. I guess I got so caught up in my own feelings, I didn’t consider yours,” He said, looking down at his lap.

He felt the sofa shift with your weight as you shuffled closer to him. “These feelings you have Ivar, I don’t understand. You don’t know me very well.”

“But I feel like I do,” He was quick to say, eyes flashing to you. It sounded absurd, and he flinched, preparing for your bad reaction.

“I know,” You said, blinking in surprise. “It’s strange, but you are so familiar to me. It’s like we’ve been here before.”

You reached out your hand, and Ivar snatched it up, not letting anything take away the moment in front of him. All of the doubts and the unfair restrictions that had kept you from him went away, and he pulled you close until you were in his arms. The apartment fell to silence, and the storm began to relent. Your head was nestled into his neck, warm little puffs of air tickling his skin. Ivar kept his nose pressed into your hair, breathing in your scent. He was reminded of fire, and of a ship sailing into the setting sun. Maybe it was all just a coincidence, but as you held each other through the fading thunder, Ivar was sure he had loved you once. Time had brought you back, and now that he had found you, he would never let go.

@peachyboneless @didiintheblog @saldelys @soleil-dor @zuxiezendler @pieces-by-me @xbellaxcarolinax @heavenly1927 @everyartistwas-firstanamateur @youbloodymadgenius @xceafh @shannygoatgruff @tgrrose @1950schick @castielsangelsx

[anika-ann]

Errare Humanum Est: Bonus

God Is Not a Woman (but He’s Plotting Anyway)

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2)  x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 2910

Summary: Bucky’s trying to fit into the Tower and some might be trying to make it easy for him. And then he drops the bombshell on you and things get even crazier than before.

Warnings: swearing, brief talk on religion, fluff, crack-ish humour

A/N: Admittedly, this is some kind of a strange one-shot of which I’m not sure it exactly fits, but… enjoy? 

Story masterlist

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Things weren’t all sunshine and rainbows only. Bucky’s return to the world was… tough. You only knew little of what had happened to him through the decades, but it was enough of a horror story even without the details.

Bucky’s relationship with the team of Avengers was complicated too. Steve was as ecstatic and heart-broken as when you had popped up alive and that was all that needed to be said. Clint was a rather easy-going guy with a reputation of not judging people by their worst mistakes and as a man who had once been mind-controlled by an alien (…what?), he was willing to accept Bucky with a strange kind of sympathy.

As it turned out, Bucky and Natasha had actually crossed their paths before briefly, but once again, that was all you learned, both hers and his moments in the past too dark to share. Bruce was keeping his distance, more of a shyness than fear or disgust if you could take a guess and Thor was off the planet, not meeting the other supersoldier just yet.

Tony… Tony wasn’t fond of Bucky. He found a footage of another Winter Soldier killing his parents and while it hadn’t been Bucky himself, Tony’s hatred needed an out and despite trying, he simply couldn’t manage treating Bucky exactly nice. He still let him live in the Tower though, so that definitely counted for something; for a lot, actually.

There were many people with trust issues when it came to Bucky and that included himself – he didn’t trust his mind still, even with the mysterious man helping him and he most definitely didn’t forgive himself for the lives he had taken. The ghosts of his past haunted him at night, in his dreams the most. But he was slowly healing.

Steve was helping a lot, sometimes trying too much maybe, which was why the former assassin sought Sam Wilson rather than his best friends at times. He came to you occasionally too; however, he seemed to feel as if you were off limits, because you were Steve’s gal. He was gradually losing that stupid attitude though and his teasing side came out to play, making you blush becoming his new hobby. Exactly what you needed with all the mess happening around, i.e. the aftermath of your resurrection.

It took Bucky about two months to mention the name.

It happened casually, just dropping the bombshell no one had seen coming. Bucky was actually showing Steve how to upgrade the newest version of some software you weren’t entirely sure what was for; both supersoldiers had to do their fair share of adjusting and while for Bucky it often was people, for Steve it was sometimes… technology despite him being able to pick up on things very quickly.

Steve thanked him and for the millionth time, you heard the ominous sentence: “It’s good to have you back, Buck. Whoever that guy was, I’ll always be grateful.”

“He told me to call him Chuck.”

The words were simple, really, nothing out of ordinary for untrained ears. Except it had you both you and Steve choke on your own spit.

A frown appeared on Bucky’s face, confusion with a hint of alarm before he rolled his eyes at your antics. “What? I know, it’s kinda dorky-“

Yeah, that was not it.

A chilling suspicion crept up your spine and while it was not necessarily ominous, it sure as hell felt like the ground was shaking under your feet, proving you that a sense of control over your life was nothing but a ridiculous illusion.

“Steve? How about we make a phone call?”

Five minutes later, you were video-chatting with the Winchester duo, explaining them your concerns. Bucky was with you and Steve but didn’t engage that much since he never really met either Sam or Dean, rather wary of them.

A photo of a dorky looking man indeed, with cute dark curls around his head and a full beard, appeared on the screen, replacing the video-feed.

“Did he look like this?” Sam asked, tension audible in his voice. It still had nothing to the disbelief in Bucky’s.

“Yeah, that’s him,” the supersoldier confirmed, narrowing his eyes, which didn’t quite disguised how incredulous he was. “How did you-?”

“Is it… him?” you interrupted them, strange tingling sensation in your fingertips, light nausea tickling your stomach.

Was there any coincidence in his world left? What the hell did all of this mean? Was Steve just a lucky guy, God’s favourite, or… or was there a larger scheme, one you weren’t able to see just yet?

It reminded you of the talk you had had with Sam Wilson what felt like ages ago, about people having two soulmates, you coming back from the death and about things that were beyond your understanding happening more and more often. This might actually prove your silly theory right. Not to mention the fact that the death of Tony’s parents was delivered by another Winter Soldier, conveniently at the same time Bucky had been having troubles with the mechanics of his metal arm, hence not being suitable for the task – what were the chances of that?

It seemed that every single thing happening had played an important role in something, ending up with your trio sitting right here and now and… that was not a very comfortable discovery.

“Oh yeah, that’s God,” Dean hummed casually and when the picture disappeared, revealing the brothers again, you saw him take a bite of a cheeseburger as if this was a talk about the fucking weather.

“God?” Bucky parroted dully and you bit your cheek, feeling guilty for not quite having explained to him why you wanted to talk to the Winchesters and what had been your suspicion; now proved right.

“Yeah,” Sam supplied helpfully, only to have Bucky repeat the word as if he was testing the taste of it on his tongue.

“A god.”

“The God, actually. Our Lord is one of kind,” Castiel appeared on the screen as well, offering a small wave that you reciprocated, too shocked to say hi.

“Except he has a sister, apparently,” Steve stated, checking with the hunters and they nodded in approval. “So you’re not denying it? You think… ugh, that The Chuck saved him.”

You made a face at his wording, but… yeah. The Chuck. The God named Chuck had saved both Bucky and you. It was official. But why? What the hell was your life anymore?

How cute and bold of you to call your life yours, you thought darkly.

“H’d weed’l,” Dean mumbled with his mouth full and shrugged. With effort, you translated it into ‘heard weirded’, which was… fair.

“You think God, capital G, saved me. Why the heck would he do that?” Bucky spitted out exasperatedly, clearly not happy about the revelation.

Eh. Revelation.

Steve tensed at your side at Bucky’s doubts, but said nothing.

“Why not?” Sam questioned, offering a small smile. Dean remained quiet, while Castiel tilted his head, seemingly curious.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you think you deserve to be saved?”

“Yeaaaah, let’s not go there,” you interjected when you noticed Bucky’s chest heaving and words in Russian spilling from his lips soundlessly.  Steve sighed, but apparently assessed it was better to let Bucky deal with the facts alone first. “Thanks for confirming our suspicions.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Castiel asked, sounding adorably confused and guilty.

“No, Castiel. It is just a lot to take it.” Understatement of the fucking year. “Speaking of which – I have a question.”

“Shoot,” Dean encouraged you, but his eyes narrowed in suspicion as the corners of your lips twitched.

“When you told me about the, eh, lovely things that walk this world... you didn’t mention a scarecrow.”

“…huh?”

Their confusion seemed pretty real to you, but you had to admit you were probably being too vague. So you decided to ask a direct question.

“Alright, sorry. This might sound stupid, but… there was this series of books Jarvis found online? I wouldn’t think much of it, except the characters are named Sam and Dean, they do hunt monsters and if I’m being honest, they definitely do act like you. So I just thought… you know. Stranger things happened…“

During your ramble, the friendly faces of the brothers gradually twisted into a disgusted grimace and you had your answer, much to your astonishment.

“I swear, Sam, I’m going to murder Becky. I’m going to kill her and kill her dead,” Dean sputtered and Sam just closed his eyes, his lips a thin line. “I can’t believe you almost married-“

Wait, what? That sounded even more interesting that the books! Though kinda private. Then again, the books described Winchesters’ lives in awful detail as far as you knew. And ended when Dean literally went to hell, so…

“How much of that thing you read?” Sam asked tiredly, his expression screaming annoyance.

You shrugged. “Not much. Kinda changes the experience when you have a good reason to believe it’s all true. Clint’s hooked, though,” you admitted, hoping it wasn’t showing how much you were enjoying the teasing.

On one hand, this was hilarious. On the other, well…

“Did you sell your story to the writer?” you pried, simply out of curiosity. No judgement there; they had enough shit in their lives as it was, being short on money was not helping, so why not use what they got.

“No!” Sam blurted out too eagerly, then cleared his throat. “No. But you’re going to like this. Carver Edlund is a penname. I give you one guess on what his ‘real’ name is.”

You squinted at the screen, not following why Sam made the air quotes.

“No clue...?”

“Chuck Shirley,” Dean announced, grinning, somehow managing to balance smugness and annoyance on his face.

“Huh?”

“Wait—Chuck? Why do I think this isn’t a coincidence?” Steve stepped in, which caused your head to snap at him.

Surely, he wasn’t implying that-

“Oh yeah. It’s exactly what you think,” Dean assured you, finishing his burger while you and Steve remained silent, simply at loss of words. What…? “You know, when people say God works in mysterious ways, they have no friggin’ idea,” he added resolutely, wiping his mouth, balling his napkin and throwing it direction of what you assumed was a trashcan; judging by the disappointed frown on his face and the hands thrown up by Sam, he missed.

So. God was a writer.  

God went by a penname, writing about Sam’s and Dean’s lives to make his living at some point.

It actually made sense; this whole thing, the grand scheme you were thinking about earlier, it sounded awfully like a plot of a freaking novel. No, scratch that, not a novel – an epos about Steve’s life, with features of a soap-opera. You did not enjoy being one of the characters, but apparently you had no choice.

There was literally nothing that would surprise you at this point. Seriously.

“Great. I don’t think I actually wanted to know that,” you stated, shaking off your thoughts. “Anyway. How is your week going so far?”

“Wonderfully. We ran into Rowena again,” Sam announced, obviously happy to change the topic. “Well, I called her. Dean lost his memory.”

Dean what?!

“Because of a spell!”

“Well, yeah. Doesn’t change the fact you called a lamp a light stick,” Sam mocked him, but you could see the relief in his features when he was able to do that. Because that meant Dean was okay. After all, you were talking to him and he appeared as always; with no manners, grinning, bickering with Sam and with all the knowledge of the hunting world he needed.

Your eyebrows rose anyway. A light stick?

“Dude! It’s a stick that produces light,” Dean exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air animatedly. “I was still a genius.”

That made you smile; hundred percent Dean. Yeah, he was just fine, fully recovered.

“I’m sure you were, Dean. You okay now?”

“Yeah. The Wicked Witch actually used some of that soulmate magic to heal-“ Sam started and stopped when he saw Steve’s face – something you had no courage to look at, because you had kinda… you had been vague when it came what exactly the witch had done – mainly because you had very little knowledge of it. “-never mind. I guess he can just cross out ‘amnesia’ from his bucket list.”

“Mm. Not pleasant. Been there. Done that,” you mused, your expression no doubt as bitter and wry as you felt.

“Well, so did I,” Bucky supplied darkly, his first words since the big discovery of who had been his salvation.

Duh. Salvation. You really should start thinking about your choice of words. This was not funny at all.

“Me as well,” Castiel joined the club.

“I don’t think I have…”

“Maybe you just forgot,” Dean nudged Sam, offering a lopsided grin.

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“Why are you insulting each other…?” Castiel demanded, confused, and you laughed when Dean rolled his eyes, waving at you in goodbye, signalling to leave them be so they could explain the angel how humans worked sometimes.

You obediently ended the call, chuckling. They would have to visit one day – you missed them, despite calling them on a regular basis.

You eyed the two supersoldiers keeping you company in the common room, wondering what to do next.

“Alright. Now that we established we all deserve to be saved,” you stated, glaring at Steve, because you were aware of him questioning his survival of ice too – rarely, but still – and at Bucky, the man who had been frozen, unfrozen and mind-controlled, took lives against his will and had his own life taken away only to be rescued and question his worth.

“I think we know what we need now. Ice-cream!” you called out, raising your arms above your head theatrically, earning a chuckle from Steve.

“You scream?” Bucky looked at you, pretending to be confused.

“She does. Why would you scream, doll?”

You rolled your eyes fondly. They were lovely pieces of work when they teamed up to troll anyone. You were happy for it though, mostly for Bucky who was still struggling to adjust to his new life.

“Yeah, okay, I get it. We all scream, okay? What I’m saying is that we all scream for some ‘I scream,’ now give me my cookie crisp or I’ll show what moves Natasha taught me.”

You were not kidding. Natasha had learned you some basics of self-defence; Steve’s request, supported by you wholeheartedly. And by Tony. And Ryan. And everyone, to be honest.

“You should leave your moves for Steve to show only, sugar.”

“Ah, screw you, Barnes!” you spitted back, rising to your feet, and stuck your tongue at him.

“Such language! And again, I really think you should hide your tongue and do that only with St-“

You grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him towards the kitchen as Bucky’s snicker sounded behind you. You never even opened the freezer, parking your backside on the counter, tugging Steve for a kiss instead. He laughed at first, but reciprocated the affection, slowly melting into it.

“Your friend’s such a little shit,” you hissed, but giggled into his shoulder. You felt… full. Happy. Right. You didn’t want to think about grand schemes anymore. You wanted to live and you had every opportunity. You were not going to waste it.

“I know,” Steve hummed, his chest shaking with hushed laughter, and he kissed the top of your head, while he wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you closer, stepping between your legs.

“You got that from him.”

“I think it was the other way around.”

You huffed and looked up again, finding Steve’s brilliant eyes twinkling with mischief. It was as adorable as stimulating; he always had this look in his eyes when he was up to no good and it often resulted in it being very good for you, usually tangled in the sheets. Or pressed against a wall. Or a table. Couch. Counter…

You wrapped your fingers around his nape and he obediently gave up to the pressure, bowing his head to meet you lips.

“Doesn’t matter. Kiss me like you mean it,” you requested lowly and you knew, just knew, that he would never deny you, definitely not that.

“As you wish…”

You barely had time to truly sink into the kiss, a sweet and passionate dance of lips, teasing teeth and tongues when an exasperated voice of a man arriving to collect his ice-cream interrupted you.

“Guys! Come on! Not in the kitchen! We eat here!”

So would Steve, flashed through your mind, but you withdrew a fraction, Steve’s mouth having frozen on yours anyway.

“Shut your piehole and let me follow your own advice!” you called out.

“I hate you,” Bucky deadpanned and you sent him an air kiss, hopping off the counter to have another sweet treat instead. After all, it was ten in the morning and you were in the kitchen. You could talk Steve into taking a ‘nap’ later.

“And that’s exactly why they compare you to the grumpy cat memes,” you threw back at Bucky, basking in the mock-insulted face the poor supersoldier made. You had introduced him to the meme after Clint had mentioned it. It was glorious. And very fitting.

“Punk, get hold of your bratty gal!”

Steve just shook his head at the childish behaviour – both yours and Bucky’s – and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. A fraction of second later, he grinned.

“I was doing just that until you interrupted,” he pointed out while he was pulling out three spoons.

Your laughter and the slap of a high-five you exchanged with Steve was probably heard in the whole Tower.

You had no care in the world.

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S.R. masterlist

B.B.masterlist

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Just a silly fluffy thing maybe, but hey… I thought I could share... to fill the time till December meaning an Andy fic :)

Thank you for reading!

Also, the last instalment will be ‘What I’d Never Say and Do (If I Was in My Right Mind)’

[atlafan]

My Everything - Part Six

A Take it Slow Sequel

What happens with Harry and Y/N after he proposes? How will the two navigate the engaged life while also continuing to juggle their jobs, friends, and families? Let’s find out.

Warnings: Fluff and smut.

a/n: not proofread fam, I didn’t have the strength.

Masterpost

“What do you think you’re gonna be for Halloween this year? I hope you step up your costume from last year.” You giggle with Niall at lunch.

“I know, Netflix and Chill wasn’t exactly original. We have somethin’ in mind, but we’re not tellin’ anyone. What about you guys?”

“We’re also keeping it a secret. I’m really excited El’s gonna stay with me while Louis and Harry are in Wisconsin.”

“Yeah, it’ll be good for you guys to get to know each other a bit more. Is it awkward at all that you and Sarah are in her wedding party, but Rachel isn’t?”

“Not really.” You shrug. “Mariah’s taking their photos and Rachel’s actually doing the videography, so she’ll still be there.”

“Oh good! I still can’t believe Harry’s finally gonna see a Packer’s game, he must be so excited.”

“He is! I’m sorry I couldn’t get a third ticket, it would’ve been nice for the three of you to go.”

“Nah, we don’t need to do everything together. It’ll be good for them to have a little trip just the two of ‘em, but I appreciate you thinkin’ of me.”

//

You get home from work, grab the packages waiting for you, and head up.

“Babe! The fabric for our costumes got here, I can start putting it together tonight!” You say as you come in. Buster trots over to greet you. “Hi baby boy, where’s daddy?”

“Daddy’s right here, pumpkin.” He comes over and kisses your cheek.

“Pumpkin?” You giggle. “That’s a new one.”

“I got a little inspired. I bought a couple today for us to carve, thought we could roast the seeds.”

“Oh that sounds like so much fun! We could put them out on the balcony for decoration too.”

“I was thinkin’ the same thing, baby.”

You and Harry eat a quick cauliflower crust pizza for dinner, and you get to work on the costumes. You were so excited to be making them, just like when you were a kid. Once you get a good chunk done, you both sit down to carve your pumpkins.

“What kind of face are you gonna make?” You ask him.

“I don’t really make faces, I like doin’ designs.” He says, concentrating with his sharpie.

“Alright, then what design are you going for?”

“Have you ever seen The Nightmare Before Christmas?”

“Of course I have.” He turns the pumpkin around to show you his sketch.

“It’s the dog.”

“Harry…I didn’t know you could draw.”

“A little here and there.”

“That’s gonna look really cool.” You look down at the triangles you’ve drawn on your own pumpkin. “I guess mine will look pretty sad compared to yours.” You laugh.

“Nah, yours will be a classic.”

You both cut holes in the tops of the pumpkins and take all the guts out. You separate the seeds into a different bowl so you can roast them later. You finish your pumpkin much sooner than Harry’s, so you go in the kitchen to work on the seeds.

“It’s all done, come look, I put some fake candles inside them. They look pretty cool on the balcony.” He says to you as he washes his hands.

“Oh wow!” You gasp. “You’re so talented, babe.”

“Not my best work actually.” He shrugs. “So I’m still comin’ to your office tomorrow to take those pictures?”

“Mhm. Apparently I’ll be in the winter edition of the magazine…I’m really excited! Zach put a really cool video interview together.” You both plop down on the couch while you wait for the pumpkin seeds to finish up in the oven.

“What did you talk about?”

“Why knowing your alumni network is important, why getting involved with clubs on campus is so important, getting out of your comfort zone to make friends, stuff like that. Then I talked about how I fell into the work I did, if it was my dream job, stuff like that. I talked about my hobbies. Even Buster was in the video for a bit. I talked about you too, of course, and how having a supportive partner can make a huge difference.”

“Aw, you didn’t need to mention me.”

“Well, you could see the pictures of us on my desk in the frame, so he just asked quick. I didn’t talk much about my personal life since that wasn’t the point of the interview. I also talked about why checking your benefits when job searching was a really big deal, and how I’m getting my master’s for free.”

“Yeah, that’s one of the reasons why I stayed with Plant Geo for so long, they had great benefits.”

“Speaking of benefits, when we get married did you want to come onto my insurance plan and all that? Or do you wanna keep the state’s?”

“It depends on how cost effective it is. More will be taken out of your paycheck, and it could just end up equaling the same as what I pay now…”

“True, I could talk to someone at HR and they could go over the plans with me. My copay is only like $10, not too bad.”

“Yeah, that’s really good actually. Man, that’s the one thing I miss about home, health insurance and medical bills are way less fucked up.”

“Yup, it’s all just big business here.” You sigh. “At least I work at a company that actually provides what I need.”

“Mhm, like your maternity leave? I still can’t get over that.”

“I think it helps that the CEO is a woman…she gets it, you know?” He hums his response.

“When exactly were you planning to get off the pill?”

“Oh god, I have no idea. We have so much time, I was thinking maybe a year before the wedding? I read that it can take like three months before you have a regular period again if you were irregular before you started the pill, and I was very irregular. Why?”

“Just wondering. I’m trying to mentally prepare myself for havin’ to use condoms all the time.”

“I guess we’ll just have to make sure we’re stocked up. Plus…it’s not like you’ll never be able to stick it in raw, you can, you’ll just need to pull out and come on me.” You shrug.

“You would be way too paranoid.” He laughs.

“Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, okay? Not something we even need to think about right now.” You hear the oven go off. “Seeds are done!” You kiss Harry’s forehead and go into the kitchen.

While the two of you were crafting he couldn’t help but think a few years down the line, having a toddler, and carving pumpkins with them. You’d probably put them in a cute costume for trick or treating as well. With how well you took care of him and Buster, Harry knew you were going to be an amazing mum someday. You come back out and sit down.

“Where are the seeds?”

“We can’t eat them yet, we have to wait for them to cool. They’ll burn your mouth.” He throws an arm around you and kisses you. “What?” You giggle.

“Nothin’, just love yeh.”

//

“Hi, Mr. Styles.” Trish beams at Harry when he comes up with his camera equipment.

“Trish, uh, you know you can just call me Harry, right?”

“I do, but you’re here for a professional purpose today. I thought we’d keep things formal.” She gets up and leads him down the hall to your office. “The CEO was thrilled that Y/N was being featured in her college magazine.”

“She was?”

“Oh yes, what a great way to plug Mark It. Maybe more young people will want to work here.”

“Right.”

She knocks on your door and opens it.

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Trish.” You say without looking at her, finishing up an email. It was nearly the end of the day.

“Mr. Styles from Styles Photography is here to see you.” She giggles.

“Ah, okay, send him in, thank you.” You smile and stand up from your desk.

“Did you tell her to be so professional?” He smirks. “They know me around here.”

“I didn’t say a thing.” You go over to him and give him a kiss on the cheek while Buster trots over to say hello to his daddy. “But…” You move to whisper in his ear. “It does create a new fantasy, doesn’t it?” You step back and blush.

“Don’t you start.” He shakes his head. “If I get my wheels turning on that…”

“I could really see it. A hot photographer coming to take my picture, you do that thing where you brush some hair from my face, suddenly we’re making eye contact…”

“Y/N.” Harry says sternly. “Enough.” You fake pout at him while he gets his equipment set up.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to rile you up.”

“M’not.” His face was flushed and his pants were growing tighter.

“Okay.” You scoff. He side eyes you for a moment and then gets back to his things. “So…how do you want me?” You ask in a genuine tone.

“Alright.” He stands up straight and walks over to you. He takes your cheeks between his thumb and index finger. “You’re not bein’ a very good girl right now.”

“I just asked a question.”

“Well, I-“

“Oi!” Niall says walking into your office. “You know the door’s open right?” Harry lets go of you and turns to look at Niall. “Probably shouldn’t be doin’ all that.” He smirks.

“Just gettin’ her how I want her for the pictures.”

“I hope that magazine is gonna give you credit.”

“They will.” You say. “I wouldn’t have let Harry do this if they weren’t going to put his name in. They’re even giving him free ad space at the back of it.”

“Oh, that’s great! Well, I’m headed out for the day. See you tomorrow.”

“Night.” You smile. Him and Harry wave each other off.

“Okay, can we be professional now?”

“Yes, I’m so sorry Mr. Styles of Styles Photography.”

“You’re a little bit goofy at the end of the, huh?”

“Just a little bit.”

Harry gets some good shots of you in your office, and a really nice one of you and Buster. He has you pack up your things, and takes you outside the building to get some nice outdoor shots before the sun sets.

“Thank you so much for coming to do all of this.” You kiss him. “I’ll see you at home.”

“Be ready for me when we get in.” He says, loading his car up.

“Be ready for what?” He walks closer to you and presses you up against your car, his hips pressing into yours. “Oh.” You blush.

“Yeah.” He kisses you and lets you go.

//

When you get home, you get Buster fed and some fresh water before going into your bedroom. You wanted to freshen up for your man. You were just putting on some fresh lace panties when Harry walks in.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but you can just leave those off.” He smirks.

You slide them back down your legs and kick them away as he approaches you. He grabs you by the back of your neck and tilts your chin up.

“What I don’t appreciate is you purposefully trying to get my hard when you’ve told me over and over that you don’t want to fuck in your office.”

“I wasn’t trying to make you hard, I was just playing around.”

“Just playing around, hm.” He nods his head and lets you go. He undoes his pants and sits down on the bed. “How about you play around with this?” He points to his crotch and you get on your knees in front of him. “Wait, let me grab you a pillow, honey.” He reaches behind him and hands it to you.

“Thank you.”

You get his hard cock out of his boxers and lick your lips before licking up and down his length. You suckle on his tip while your hand pumps him slowly. You look up at him, and he’s already looking down at you. It’s intense it makes you groan against him. You sink down further on him, and his hips buck up, trying to fit as much of himself in you as he can. You think of something, and you pop off him.

“Harry, I need you stand up.”

“Wh, why?”

“So it’s easier for you.”

“Easier for me to do what?”

“You know…fuck my face.” You mumble. His eyebrows shoot up, and he doesn’t hesitate to stand.

“You really want me to do this?” His hands cup your cheeks to get a better grip on you.

“Mhm.”

“You’re gonna gag a lot.”

“I’ll work through it.”

“Just tap my legs if it gets to be too much, okay?”

“Okay.”

You grip his hips and open your mouth wide for him. His slides back in and moans softly from how good your mouth feels on him. He thrusts in and out slowly, going a little deeper each time. He had hit the back of your throat before, numerous time, but usually you were the one in control of that. Your eyes start to water as his pace quickens, and you try to focus on just breathing through your nose. When he hears you gag he slows down to give you a second, and then he jumps back in to what he was doing before.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He groans. “I’m gonna come.” He pulls out, and you leave your mouth open. His comes onto your open mouth, neck, and chest. He helps you up before he sits down on the bed. “Jesus, I think I’m light headed.” He chuckles and runs a hand through his hair. He looks at you, and you’re not saying much as you stand there naked in front of him. You had an odd look in your eyes. “Shit, let me go get a rag to clean you up, baby.” He stands back up, kisses your forehead, and rushes into the bathroom. He comes back out with a warm rag and wipes up your chest. “You did really well, took it all down that pretty throat of yours. Felt so good.” He steps back and looks at you. “There, all clean.” You blink at him. “Are you alright?”

You tap your throat and try to speak but it comes out really scratchy and hoarse. You try to clear your throat but it doesn’t help much.

“Lemme get you some water…maybe I was a bit too aggressive.” You grab his wrist. “What?”

You tug at the hem of his shirt, and he gets the idea. You wanted him, the water could wait. He gets you on the bed, and hovers over you. His lips find yours, and he sucks on your bottom lip. He plants gentle, wet kisses down your body, stopping to suck on one of your nipples. He twists your piercing between his teeth, making your head roll back. His hand slides between your legs while he continues to work your breasts. His middle finger runs up and down your slit before entering you. You gasp when he starts to curl it up.

“You’re so wet f’me baby.” He mumbles, switching to suck on your breast. He slides a second finger in and pumps in and out of you.

You grind against his hand, and he lets go of your breast with a pop. He retracts his fingers, and slides them up to your clit. Your mouth falls open and you moan out his name when his tongue enters you. You hear him groan as he moves his tongue in and out of you, and you tug on his hair.

“Harry.” You moan again, throat dry and hoarse.

He head your legs shaking. Your voice cracks as you cry out from your release. He continues to rub your clit as you come down. He grabs your hips and flips you over gently, spreading you apart and entering you. You loved how quickly he could get hard again. His chest was flush with your back as he rocks in and out of you. His hand snakes underneath you to rub your clit and you feel like you just wanted to melt. It still amazed you how much he paid attention to your body. It was never about him getting his, it was about this mutual pleasure that only you two shared.

Everything felt really good, and you were overstimulated.

“Oh my god, don’t stop.” You say in a raspy voice. “Fuck, Harry, that’s so good.” You clutch at your blankets and pillows. He bits down on the back of your shoulder as he feels you come around his cock.

His thrusts get sloppy and quicken, and a few moments later he’s filling you up. He pulls out of you slowly and rests on the bed to look at you. He smooths some hair out of your face and you smile at him.

“My throat really hurts.” You giggle.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He kisses your nose and gets off the bed. He wiggles his boxers up his legs, and watches you walk into the bathroom. “M’gonna get dinner started.” You give him a thumbs up and he leaves you to clean yourself up.

You come into the kitchen in a pair of light sweatpants and a t-shirt. Buster comes over to you and you pat him on the head. You guzzle down a nice glass of water and try to clear your throat. Harry was working on a stir fry.

“Why’d you want me to do that to you, I feel bad…”

“I don’t know.” You cough, and clear your throat again. “Just thought of it. I like when we take turns being more in control of those things.”

“But I hurt you.” He frowns.

“No! It was fine, it was just different. See, I’m all better now.” You smile. “My throat just got dry.”

“Okay.” He kisses the top of your head and puts his attention back to dinner. “Just veggies and rice, that okay?”

“It’s perfect, thank you.”

You sit down at the island and wait for him to finish preparing everything. He makes a plate up for you and he sits down next to you. He tells you about his day at the studio, and how cute some of the little kids in their costumes looked.

“I still can’t believe parents pay to have Halloween cards sent out.” You laugh.

“I choose not to question it. If these rich people wanna pay me for these little things, I’m all for it.”

“Oh, definitely! I think it’s great you’re doing all these little sessions.”

“The Thanksgiving sessions are all booked, and there’s only a few Santa sessions left open.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“All that social media stuff you do makes such a big difference, that’s why so many people are signing up.”

“It’s nice getting to work together in this capacity.” He stands up and takes both of your plates.

“My sweet girl.” He says as he kisses your head before putting the dishes in the dishwasher. “Wanna watch TV for a bit? I’m beat.”

“Mhm.”

Harry lays down on the sofa and you lay in front of him so he can spoon you. You were nearing the end of the third season of Glee.

“God, the show got so hard to watch after these last few episodes.”

“Why, baby?”

“Just everything with Rachel and Finn, you’ll see.”

You get to the last episode of the third season. You both sit up so you can watch intently. You were sobbing already, and Harry was getting to that point himself.

“Wait…he’s not goin’ with her?!” He looks at you. “I mean, I wasn’t in favor of them gettin’ married right away, but…he’s sendin’ her off to New York alone?”

You couldn’t even speak you were so upset.

“Finn, no, what the fuck?!” He looks at you again. “That’s how they ended it?”

“Yes.”

“And you had to wait an entire summer to know what happened next…Jesus.” He wipes his eyes. “This show is fucked up.”

“You said it.” You wipe your own eyes. “Come on, we need to go to sleep.”

“You can’t be serious, we need to-“

“Harry, it’s already after ten, come on. We can watch more tomorrow.”

“Okay, but only because I wanna cuddle some more.”

//

“Morning, Harry.” Isaac says as Harry walks in.

“Mornin’.” He takes his coffee from him. “Ah, thank you.”

“So your day is going to be interesting.”

“Define interesting…”

“Lot of single moms and their kids…”

“Oh, why is that interesting?”

“Look at the reviews of you on Facebook.” Harry comes around to Isaac’s computer to look. “See, this one says, both Harry and Mariah are extremely professional, I’m very happy with their work.”

“That’s…I’m very confused.”

“Look at all of the comments. Harry was amazing with my son, I can’t wait to bring my kids to see him, I wouldn’t mind him taking my photos…and they sort of escalated from there. You know how wine moms can be. I made it so some of them weren’t visible.”

“These people do know we do any type of portrait, they don’t just need to have their kids involved.”

“You’re missing the point. They’re thirsty for you.”

“Thirsty?” He scoffs.

“I notice them flirting with you from time to time.”

“A lot of people flirt with me.” He shrugs. “I just don’t flirt back.”

Just then a young woman and he toddler walk in. Her daughter was already dressed like Bat Man.

“Woah, looks like the Dark Knight has arrived, Isaac.” The little girl giggles.

“I had hoped she’d want to be a princess, but she insisted on Bat Man.” The mother sighs.

“Nothin’ wrong with that, is there?” He smiles. “I just need a few minutes to get settled and set up. Isaac can get you anything you need.” He turns and goes upstairs to his office.

“So, how’d you hear about us?” Isaac asks.

“Word of mouth. One of the other moms at Janey’s preschool raved about someone named Mariah, but she was all booked up today. Then someone else mentioned Harry might have more open spots since he owns the place.” Isaac nods. “I heard he’s very talented.”

“He is.” Isaac smiles.

Harry comes down shortly and gets his spot set up the way he likes. Mariah was in her office editing photos.

“Okay, Janey, I mean, uh, Bat Man, come on over.”

The little girl runs over to Harry.

“Janey, don’t run! I’m so sorry, she never listen to me.” The woman huffs.

“No worries.” Harry smiles and looks down at the girl. “Is it okay if I lift yeh up and what not?”

“Mhm.”

“Thank you.”

Harry picks her up and puts her on a chair decorated for Halloween. There were pumpkins and other Halloween things around her.

“Smile, Janey. Grandma’s gonna want to see that pretty face.”

“No.” She pouts. “Bat Man doesn’t smile, mumma.”

“She’s right.” Harry says. “But sometimes he does.”

“He does?” Janey asks.

“Oh sure. Right after he gets a bad guy, like when he sends the joker to jail, that makes him really happy.”

“Okay.” She giggles and Harry snaps a shot.

He’s able to get a lot of great shots of her, and wraps everything up. He hands Isaac the SD card from the camera. Lately, Harry had let Isaac touch up these simpler photoshoots.

“Isaac should have these to you in a couple of days with the design you chose.”

“Thank you so much, Harry. I haven’t seen her have so much fun since…well, I won’t bore you with my problems.”

Isaac has to refrain from making a gagging noises. He knew exactly where this was headed.

“You’re a single mum?” Harry asks.

“Mhm, it was all for the best, but she misses her daddy.”

“Yeah, that’s, uh, gotta be tough.” Harry and Isaac make knowing eye contact. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go give my fiancé a ring before my next appointment. It was nice meeting the both of you.”

Harry slips away and almost runs up to his office.

“Oh, he’s, um, not single?”

“Nope, very taken.” Isaac smiles. “Will that be cash or credit?”

[alj4890]

And Then I Met You

What happens when the one you thought you were meant for turns out to be meant for someone else?

A\N Choices Fan Fiction with characters from The Royal Romance, Red Carpet Diaries, and Perfect Match

@lxaah11​   @alleksa16​   @penguininapinktuxedo​   @blackcoffee85​   @stopforamoment​     @hopelessromantic1352​     @krsnlove     @annekebbphotography        @hopelessromantic1352   . @sunflowergirl05   @desireepow-1986  @greywitchyshots   @lilyofchoices @moodyvalentinestories  @emceesynonymroll   @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms   @ab1901     @lolablackwrites     @flyawayboo   @i-bloody-love-drake-walker   . @trappedinfandoms   @kate-mckenzie

A/N This is the final chapter for this storyline. Thank you so much for reading this and enjoying it with me. I will still offer shorts and requests for this pair in this storyline. My next series for Thomas and Amanda will be the, “what if” she never told him about being part of the selection for Liam’s bride. The trip to Lake Tahoe will not result in their hasty marriage. No Lauren. None of what has happened here. If you would like to be tagged in this, please let me know in the comments. The new series will be called, And Then I Left You. Cheesy right? LOL!

Masterlist

Part 27 

Lord Thurston Vancouer’s study, Cormery Isle, Cordonia...

Lauren stilled at Tariq's words.

"You," her eyes narrowed, "you are ending our engagement?!"

"Yes." He clasped his hands behind his back. "I have already sent in my statement to the press and--"

"You did what?" She screeched. "How dare you! I should have been the one to do that." She stepped forward and slapped him. "Do you have any idea what this will do to my reputation?"

Tariq's jaw spasmed from the impact. He calmly turned his head back toward her.

Her temper flared even more at his silence. “I gave up my career for you, you bastard!” She raised her hand to slap him again.

His hand shot up, grasping her wrist. “I think this is for the best.”

“You think so?” Her lips curled in a snarl. “You will regret this.”

His expression hardened. “I think I will regret it more if I don’t end things now.”

Lauren yanked her hand away.  “You weren’t the only man who wanted me to marry him.” Her chin lifted as she tried her best to look down her nose at him. “I was told by your friend to dump your sorry ass and choose him.” 

Tariq merely shrugged causing her vengeful temper to burst. 

“It’s Blair isn’t it?” She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t think I’ve been oblivious to the extra time you have been spending with her.”

“She is in a sense a reason behind my decision.” He responded. “But mostly, she opened my eyes to your true nature.”

“You haven’t even begun to see my true nature.” She warned. “But you will. You will see all that I am as I destroy every single thing you love.” 

Her smile sent chills down Tariq’s back as did the words that followed.

“I think I will start with Arabella. That will punish not only Neville for what he did to me, but will also hurt your precious Blair. Then I’ll--” 

“I don’t think you will have the chance to do anything to my daughters or son.” Lord Thurston’s hard tone cut through her tirade.

Lauren paled when she saw members of the King’s Guard fan out around the study behind Lord Thurston. 

“Your time in Cordonia has come to an end.” Thurston told her. “In fact, I believe you will never have an opportunity to hurt anyone ever again.”

Lauren screamed out her denial when the the guards moved to take her into custody.

“You can’t do this! I--” she was silenced by the guards forcing her to the ground to handcuff her.

An Interpol agent stood by, watching it all unfold while reading out the crimes she was accused of.

Arabella and Blair stood silently with Neville in the hallway as Lauren was dragged out, screaming and crying.

“We must inform Lady Olivia and Lady Amanda that it is done.” Thurston said once the front door closed behind the guards..

“I’ll call Olivia.” Arabella ran off, excited to not only see Lauren taken away, but at also recording the whole incident. She knew a few popular reporters in Cordonia who would appreciate this video.

“I’ll make certain that Lady Amanda is told.” Blair went to Tariq and gently squeezed his hand. Her eyes met his. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, a gentle smile formed over her concern for him. “I am now.”

With a whispered promise to talk to him soon, she left the three men alone.

Thurston cleared his throat to break the tense silence and waved toward his study. “I believe we need to clear the air between you two.”

“There is no need.” Tariq replied. He averted his eyes from the two. “It will take time, but I refuse to let what happened ruin my relationship with the Vancouer’s.”

Neville lowered his head. “I don’t know what possessed me to do that to you.” He lifted remorseful eyes to his old friend. “I humbly ask your forgiveness.”

Thurston wisely remained silent as he watched his son and the man he considered a second son. He knew that this was something that only they could resolve.

Tariq shifted from foot to foot. “I won’t insult you by lying that I understand why you did it or that it didn’t hurt to hear that you--” he shook his head. “I consider you and your family as my own. And if things go as I think, then we will be brothers in truth one day.” His shoulders straightened. “You will have my forgiveness, but it will take a long time for you to regain my trust.”

Thurston looked on in approval as the two shook hands, his son expressing once more his sorrow for his actions.

Time would heal these wounds.

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

The night before in Monterisso, Queen Amalas's private quarters...

"Enough haggling." Olivia grumbled. "I've offered my services the next time you need them." She folded her arms, leveling her basilisk gaze upon the Queen of Spies. "What have you found out about Lauren Benefield?"

Amalas poured them each a glass of wine. "Have a seat."

Olivia eyed the crystal goblet.

"Please." Amalas rolled her eyes. "Why would I make deals if I planned on poisoning you?"

Olivia set the glass down. "I know you didn't poison it. I am here on business, not some social call."

The queen's expression held hints of approval. "And this is why I offered my services to you." She pulled out a small flash drive and tossed it to her. "That, your grace, holds everything."

Olivia quirked an eyebrow. "I assume you kept a copy for yourself."

Amalas silently raised her glass in a toast. "Wouldn't you?"

Olivia's lips twitched into a brief smile. "Naturally."

The Queen pressed a button under her desk. The wall to the left opened, revealing a series of monitors.

Amalas took her own copy of the flash drive and began to pull up all she had discovered on Lauren Benefield.

"It is a good thing you managed to have Lauren quit Lord Hunt's picture.” She began, “ Here's a brief synopsis of what I discovered about her and her associate, Viktor Montmarte.

Olivia pulled up a chair and began reading. Her complexion paled due to some of what she read.

"Kidnapping. Drugs. Sex trafficking. Rape. Extortion." She clicked and saw the small island in the south Pacific that Viktor owned.

"Lauren was not only partaking of these activities." Amalas explained. "She was handpicking underage girls and having them sent to his island," her voice hardened in anger, "under the guise that this was their big break into Hollywood."

Olivia's eyes widened at the satellite images of what was happening around Viktor's estate. "Dear God."

"Interpol along with the FBI are thrilled that I was able to get some concrete evidence." Amalas explained. "I've been working with them the past few months." Her voice turned cold. “Montmarte has friends in very high places that have been helping him stay just under the radar.” Her eyes narrowed. “I knew he couldn’t be doing all this on his own.”

"And when you saw what Lauren was doing to Thomas and Amanda, you were able to get the final piece to the puzzle?" Olivia murmured.

"I didn't know if she was a victim or a partner of Viktor's. Once I tapped into their conversations while she was at Lythikos, I was able to see how deeply involved she was." Amalas enlarged a photo of Lauren smiling as she disembarked off a plane with two teenage girls. "Without her help, Viktor wouldn't have gotten half of the girls he and his friends preferred."

Olivia clicked on another image of Lauren and Viktor at a pool party. The actress was laughing while holding down a young woman in tears so that the producer could forcefully fondle her.

Amalas clicked back to her notes. "I discovered this too." She pulled up a recorded conversation between Viktor and Lauren from when she first began working with Thomas. "Lauren records everything in case she needs to blackmail Viktor and vice versa."

Viktor: How's your seduction going?

Lauren: *laughter* Slow. I have to handle Thomas with kid gloves.

Viktor: If anyone can do it, it's you.

Lauren: I know. *more laughter* Don't worry. I won't forget about you. Once Mr. Hunt is mine, I will give you his grieving wife.

Viktor: *chuckle* I have plans for the duchess.

Lauren: I bet you do.

Viktor: I haven't ever had a noble before. *sinister chuckle* Perhaps I should use the gold rope when I tie her up.

Lauren: Promise me that I get to watch. I can't wait to see her content, happy face devastated.

Viktor: I promise it will be all that you desire, my dear.

Lauren: Maybe we should first force her to watch what I do with Thomas. That will really get her.

Viktor: The more broken they are the more turned on I get. We'll use the rooms with the two-way mirrors. I’ll start by--

Olivia turned it off. Her rage exploded as she stood abruptly from her chair.

"I--" tears sparked her green eyes. "I can't believe--" words failed her as she thought of her closest friend encountering such evil. That she actually had this person in her home as a guest.

Amalas placed a comforting hand on Olivia's shoulder. "Don't worry." She closed the files. "Once America and Europe are finished, these two will be permanently placed in a dank cell."

“They don’t deserve that consideration.” Olivia snapped. “To think of all the lives they have ruined.”

Later that night, Olivia called Liam and Bastien. She explained all that she had discovered, urging them to alert Lord Thurston to guard Arabella and Blair.

Plans were made to have the actress apprehended and held for extradition. Liam promised to call Tariq to go ahead an issue a statement that his engagement was over before the scandal struck.

After talking to them, Olivia called Amanda.

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

St Orella, Cordonia, the next day...

Thomas was in no state to continue filming. Last night's discovery had nearly broke him. Knowing he would have been the one that brought about harm to Amanda and their life together had devastated him.

He had briefly explained to Holly to have the crew take a few days off while he came to terms with everything.

He then spent the morning on the balcony, staring off at the waves, crashing against the rocky shore.

"How long have you been out here?" Amanda asked once she found him.

"Sunrise." He replied, unable to look directly at her.

She came over and sat next to him. Her hand slipped into his as she turned her attention to the beauty before them.

Thomas couldn't take the simple kindness. He rose abruptly and went to stand over at the balustrade.

"Thomas?" Amanda followed him and wrapped her arms around him from behind. "What's--"

He jerked out of her grasp. "I need to be alone."

Her eyes searched his, causing him to avert his gaze.

"Why?" She asked.

Thomas ran his hands over his face. "You know why."

She leaned against the balustrade, silently observing her husband’s odd behavior.

He couldn't take it. He left her without a word and went directly to their closet.

Amanda followed him, watching as he began to pack.

"What are you doing?" She asked. "We don't leave for the capital until Thursday."

He tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat. "I'm not going to the capital."

"What? Why?" Amanda couldn't take him avoiding her and blocked his path. "We must attend Liam's coronation!"

Thomas stilled when she took his hands. His head dropped, wishing she would order him to leave and never return. He didn’t deserve her. 

"Are you angry with me?" She asked.

His head jerked up. "What would I have to be angry with you for?" His expression hardened. "Were you the one to insist on having an actress be around the one you vowed to protect? Were you the one who dismissed all the concerns voiced by those you trust?" His voice cracked. "Did you leave the one you love more than anything alone with such a person nearby to film on location?"

Amanda stepped closer, winding her arms around him. "You didn't know Lauren was that evil. You thought she was a flirt. A woman who got off on destroying people's lives with affairs."

"I should have put two and two together." He snapped, completely disgusted at himself. "I suspected Viktor of predatory behavior with young actresses. I should have seen that his closeness to Lauren meant that they were of like mind."

His temper broke as he thought over all his decisions concerning the actress. “AND I’M THE FOOL WHO BROUGHT THEM INTO OUR HOME!”

His voice echoed in their bedroom. A nervous Hudson knocked on the door, forcing Thomas to quickly apologize for his outburst.

Amanda shushed him, pulling him closer to her. The morning's news had shown the actress being extradited from Cordonia while Viktor was simultaneously being dragged from his Hollywood mansion in the middle of the night. Some other famous people and those in the business and diplomatic world were being held for questioning and arrested.

"It's over." She said softly. "Neither Viktor nor Lauren will ever have a chance to hurt someone again." She pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. "And thankfully, they did not have a chance to hurt us as they had planned."

"If they had, I--" he swallowed at the lump in his throat. "I could have lost you."

Amanda shook her head. "You wouldn't have lost me." 

She tried to kiss him. Prove to him that all was as it should be.

He broke away. "I would have. If Lauren had succeeded in making you believe I was having an affair. If Viktor had succeeded in--" his fist clinched, wishing he had them wrapped around the man's throat. "I would have lost you."

She tried to say he wouldn't, yet, she knew deep down that he very well might have. As she imagined how she would be after going through something like that, she realized what would have happened if they had divorced.

"We would have found our way back to each other."

Thomas raised his heartbroken eyes back to hers. "You sound so certain."

"Not only do I love you, I need you." She admitted. "You give me comfort." She tugged on his arms to hold her. "You listen to me, try to help me...I would have needed all that if they had succeeded." She nestled her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. "Your touch alone helps ease any worry or pain I have."

He clutched her tight, words failing at how she did the same for him. He pressed his lips to her forehead, letting them remain there as he allowed her to ease the tension within him.

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

Fives Months Later, Hollywood...

Thomas tugged at his bowtie while he waited downstairs. He reviewed the speech he had written for tonight’s premiere of The Earl’s Undoing.

“You’re going to ruin that if you keep pulling at it.” 

He looked up and smiled at his wife coming downstairs. Slipping the notecards in his breast pocket, he met her at the bottom step.

“I must admit that I feel those same butterflies that I had the night you took me to the AFI’s awards.” She tilted her head when he kissed her cheek. “Are you sure this is what I should wear tonight?”

Thomas took her hand and twirled her. The rich royal blue gown sparkled in the lamp light. “You look beautiful.” 

She pressed a tender kiss to his lips, smiling as he held her close. “You look very handsome.”

“I notice you say that whenever I wear a tuxedo.” He teased. “That is the only reason I keep wearing them to events.”

She laughed, slipping her arm in the bend of his. “We better go. Liam sent a text saying that they would be leaving the hotel in an hour.”

The two made their way to the theater. Cameras flashed as their limo pulled up.

“Ready?” Thomas asked.

“I think so.” She gripped his hand. 

“Normally, I would say we forget about it and go straight home.” He stepped out of the car and helped her out. As cameras flashed and cheers were yelled, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “But I want everyone to see how proud I am that you let me direct your story.”

Cameras once again captured the moment the two looked at one another. The tender smile and obvious love was seen by all along with the sweet kiss the duchess gave her director.

That night, Thomas did not remain dismissive of any question posed about the film. With Amanda by his side, he remained for the most part, almost pleasant with the invasive inquiries of their life together and whether or not they would work on any more projects as they had with The Earl’s Undoing.

Finally making it inside the theater, they joined their friends who each had a hand in helping the couple get here together.

Once they all found their seats, Thomas whispered that he would be right back.

He made his way to the front of the packed auditorium and raised his hand for silence.

“Good evening.” He began. “I want to thank each person who made this movie possible. My gratitude to our friends from Cordonia who traveled here specifically to support us. And how grateful I am for those of you who came out tonight.” 

He cleared his throat and waited for the applause to die down. “Let me begin by saying what many directors that have come before me have said. This was a labor of love.” His eyes met Amanda’s. “But unlike the love we feel for our craft, mine was truly one of deep, heartfelt emotion. Without this story, I would have never met the author who ended up becoming the very love of my life.”

Amanda blinked back tears as he gave a brief story of how he had fallen in love with her while working towards making a movie. Beside her, Nadia, Riley, and Addison were sniffing and wiping their own tears. Even Olivia and Holly were slightly affected, both attempting to pretend they weren’t.

“What you will see on the screen is a love letter to my wife, Amanda.” He explained. “Every shot. Every line said in a particular way. Every bit of costume and scenery...it is all from my heart.” He once again met his wife’s unwavering gaze. “For the rest of my life, this movie will be my favorite of all time and all because I met you.”

[spine-buster]

Alone, Together | My End and My Beginning: Epilogue 2 | Morgan Rielly

WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS AN IMAGE THAT I HAVE MADE/DOCTORED SO THAT IT LOOKS LIKE IT’S FROM A MAGAZINE CALLED “TORONTO LIFE” (A REAL MAGAZINE) THAT CONTAINS A FACE CLAIM FOR BEE.  IF YOU DON’T WANT TO SEE IT, SKIP PAST!  IT’S A QUARTER OF A WAY THROUGH THE EPILOGUE.

July 2022

“I still can’t believe you’re engaaaaaaaaaaaaaged,” Angie wrapped her arms around Bee for what seemed like the umpteenth time that night as they stood out on the deck.  Rocco and Clarette had thrown Morgan and Bee an engagement party at their house and had somehow invited the whole team and some of Bee’s work colleagues.  Clarette was in heaven hosting for everyone.  The team was in heaven gorging on the Italian food Rocco and Clarette catered in.  Bee was sure Rocco had showed someone his vegetable garden.

“Can you believe?” Bee mimicked Jonathan Van Ness dramatically.  “It’s finally happening.”

“It’s happening when it’s supposed to be happening,” Angie said.  “You lived your life first.  You accomplished your professional goals first.  It was important for you to accomplish those things before marriage.  You’re a fucking CFA, Bee.  Morgan had better wife’d you up.  Not like he can do any better.”

“Hey!  That’s my fiancé you’re talking about!” Bee giggled.  

“I know.  And I love him.  But it’s true.”

Bee rolled her eyes playfully at Angie’s words.  “He bought us a house in Forest Hill, Angie.”

“You’re going to live in Forest Hill, Bee,” Angie gritted her teeth into a facetious smile.  “Mason and I will be there every weekend.”

“Obviously.”

“Stealing all your food.”

“Of course.”

“Swimming in your pool.  If you guys build a pool.”

“Better start buying more bathing suits.”

“Our kids will be best friends just like we are.”

Bee smiled.  “Naturally.  Like there’s any other option.”

***

***

December 2022

“Is there a way I can keep all these flowers after the wedding?  Fuck,” Angie asked as she flipped through Rachel Clingen’s lookbook and the sketches that had been prepared for Bee.  Bee had gone to see her a few weeks ago with Aryne, who was adamant that Rachel to the floral décor for the wedding.  She didn’t disappoint.  “This is going to look stunning.”

“I know, right?  I can’t believe how good she is.”

“She’s great.  It’s literally everything you said you wanted and she somehow made it come to life.  And in the Grand Banking Hall?  All that beautiful old architecture and then this?  Literally every magazine should be begging you to profile it because it’s gonna look beautiful.”

Bee couldn’t help but chuckle.  She had a much better relationship with the media now than she did when she first started dating Morgan, and she was much more comfortable around photographers or the press – especially in terms of hers or the Lady Leafs charity work – but she was always, always a bit weary.  She wouldn’t want people she didn’t know at her wedding.  A magazine had already approached her asking to profile the interiors of their house once it was completed, but she politely declined.  Maybe she’d change her mind in the future, but she didn’t think so.  “Rachel’s gonna put it up on her website.  So is Mango – the photographers.  I think that’s enough.”

“I think I’m gonna need a giant photo too to hang over my fireplace.”

“I think we should blow up this one instead,” Bee smiled, digging into her purse to retrieve the envelope she was planning to give to Angie this whole time.  

Angie looked at her weirdly.  She took the envelope from her, opening in slowly, only to reveal a photograph – perhaps the most important photograph: the first one they ever took together.  It was in university, during a exam study session at E.J. Pratt Library.  There was a stack of books beside both Bee and Angie.  A girl they were friends with at the time had taken it, though they weren’t in touch now.  “Oh my God,” Angie snorted as she inspected the photograph.  “Look how awful my curls looked.”

“I still fell in love with you,” Bee winked.  

Angie gave her another look.  “So did Mason, surprisingly,” she quipped.  “God, we were so young.  We’re only eighteen here!”

“Remember how we stayed so late they kicked us out because they were closing?” Bee asked.  Angie nodded her head.  “Do you remember what you said to me after we packed up?”

Angie thought back.  Bee watched as the gears in her head began to shift, and as the realization dawned on her, her brows furrowed.  “I said ‘When I’m your maid of honour, I’m going to tell everyone the story of how I helped you pass this exam’,” she said.

Bee smiled.  “So are you ready to do that or what?”

Angie pursed her lips to keep from crying, but when she looked at Bee, Bee could see a tear in her eye.  “Obviously.”

***

“Hi my beautiful Isabella!  Hi!  Hi!” Bee smiled wide as she saw Isabella chilling in her Bumbo on the counter.  “Are you happy to see Tia Bee?”

“BAH!” Isabella Tavares babbled happily, smiling.  “Bah bah bah!”

“Bah bah bah!” Bee mimicked.  “How’s my darling princess?”

“Darling princess is fine now that she’s burped,” Aryne smiled as she finished folding a dishtowel and lay it back on the counter.  “Jace!  Come say hi to Tia Bee!”

Bee heard the quick flutter of his steps as he ran to her from the family room.  “Hi Tia Bee!” he screamed loudly, crashing into her legs and giving her a hug.  Bee picked him up and held him in her arms as she kissed him dramatically all over his face, causing him to giggle profusely.

“How’s my prince doing?”

“Good.”

“What are you playing?”

“I play with my Lego.”

“What are you building?”

“I build a car.”

“Can you finish building your car and then show me?”

“Okay!” he said, wigging out of her arms and running back to his place on the carpet in the family room.

Bee turned back to Aryne, who was watching the whole encounter unfold.  “What’s that in your hand?” Aryne asked.

“Oh, I got your mail for you,” Bee said absent-mindedly, handing her the envelope.  “Just one thing in there.”

“Oh, thanks,” Aryne said as she began to tear it open.  Bee looked on as she did, a small smile on her face.  Like clockwork, Aryne’s eyes furrowed as she saw what was in the envelope: a card that had the first picture taken of them together, from a game at Scotiabank Arena.  “What’s this?”

“Will you open it?”

Aryne flipped the card open on command, reading the words that Bee wrote.  The more she read, the more her eyes began to well up with tears.  “You want me to be your bridesmaid?”

“Of course I do,” Bee said softly.  “I can’t imagine you not being up there with me, Aryne.”

Aryne began crying.  She outstretched her arms as she walked around the island to hug Bee, squeezing her tightly.  “I love you so much.”

***

“Oh…oh, Briony,” Shirley gasped as Bee walked out in the last dress.  It was the first one they had chosen, but the last one Bee was trying on.  From beside Shirley, Clarette put her hands over her mouth.  “Briony, I…I’m speechless.”

“It’s looks good?” she asked nervously, patting down the delicate lace.

“It’s stunning,” Shirley nodded.  “It’s perfect, sweetheart.”

“It’s the one,” Clarette said.  “It’s so beautiful, mignonette.  The lace is exquisite.  The…the…everything.”

Bee turned to Angie, only to see her eyes red with tears.  “What do you think?”

Angie shook her head, unable to find the words.  She continued to shake her head until she could.  “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she said between sniffles.  “Morgan’s gonna absolutely die.”

Bee turned around, looking at herself in the full-length mirror, most of the most important women in her life behind her.  She saw the lace draped over her body and sprawling train behind her, delicate but elegant.  The v-neck framed her chest and shoulders perfectly, the fabric draping over her hips.  As she stared at herself, she pictured herself holding a bouquet.  She pictured herself at the end of an aisle, a crowd of people standing in front of her.  When the sales associate swooped in and placed a veil on her, the vision was complete.  She pictured herself walking down the aisle.  She pictured herself walking, making eye contact with the guests.  She pictured Morgan at the top of the aisle staring back at her, smiling.  She pictured Angie smiling.  Aryne smiling.

“Is this the dress?” the sales associate asked.

Bee smiled.  This is the dress.”

February 2023

“Hey Andy?”

“Yeah Bee?”

“Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Of course.  What is it?”

“Can…can you sit down?”

Andy stopped moving.  He had been preparing a glass of water for himself, but he stopped as he looked at Bee and recognized how serious her tone was.  “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine, I just…I just want you to sit,” she repeated, going so far as to move the chair so he could follow her command.

He sat down slowly.  “What’s going on?”

“Um.  So listen,” she began nervously.  “I know…you know…you know that I don’t have a dad – well I have a dad, I just don’t know my dad – and, well – I, uh, I – God, this isn’t coming out right at all,” she shook her head, her thoughts getting the best of her.  

“Bee, calm down, it’s alright,” Andy said.  “It’s just me.”

She nodded her head and took a deep breath.  “You know how much I love you, and how much I appreciate you being there for me since the beginning of mine and Morgan’s relationship.  And, well, I’m doing the father-daughter dance with Rocco during the reception, but I wanted you – I would love it if you could walk me down the aisle.”

“Oh, Bee…” Andy cooed, a giant smile overtaking his face.  “Of course I’ll walk you down the aisle.”

“Really?”

“Are you kidding?  Of course,” he repeated, reaching out to hug her.  “I have two sons, Bee.  I never thought I’d be able to get the opportunity.  And now you’re able to give it to me.”

Saturday July 22 2023

CLICK HERE TO SEE MORGAN AND BEE’S WEDDING

“Be careful!”

“How do I get this thing off?”

“It’s delicate!”

“I know!  I can’t get the – do I do the buttons or the zipper first?!”

“There’s only buttons, Morgan!” Bee exclaimed, giggling.

“Then what the hell is this?!  What is – oh,” he stopped dramatically.  “Oh, I gotta – okay – I – here we go,” he muttered as he began to unbutton the dress as quickly as his big thumb and drunken mind would let him.  He knew he shouldn’t have had that last round of shots with Jake.  “Jesus, how many buttons are there on this thing?!”

“It’s gotta stay on, doesn’t it?”

“NO!  It’s gotta COME OFF!” he exclaimed, causing Bee to burst out into laughter.  “It’s my wedding night, damnit!  I WANNA HAVE SEX WITH MY WIFE!  HOT, STEAMY SEX!”

“Is that what we’re gonna do?  I thought we were just gonna put on our pyjamas,” Bee looked behind her, winking.

Morgan gave her a death stare.  “Don’t even joke about that, Bumblebee,” he finished unbuttoning her dress.  “Now get out of this thing so I can fuck you, please.”

“You need to be patient,” she instructed in as stern a voice as she could muster.  “This thing is thousands of dollars.  I can’t just whip it off, step out of it, and leave it on the floor or chair.”

“You can, you just decide not to.”

“I won’t, because it cost almost ten thousand dollars and it’s the most sentimental piece of clothing I will ever have.”

Morgan grumbled as he collapsed on the bed, still in his shirt and pants.  He began unbuttoning his shirt as he watched Bee slip out of the dress slowly, making sure she located its hanger on the curtain rod before she did so.  At the sight of Bee standing with no bra and only white lace panties, Morgan could feel his cheeks flush.  “White, Bumblebee?”

“Was I going to wear any other colour?”

“You’ve got a mouth on you tonight.”

“Guess I should put it to good use, huh?” she arched her brow.  

Morgan’s eyebrows rose.  “Mrs. Rielly…” he began, shaking his head.  The feeling of calling her that would never get old, he thought quickly.  “Now that you’ve pinned me down with marriage you think you can talk to me like that?”

“Oh, I’ll pin you down alright.”

Morgan stuffed his hand down his pants.  To him, there was no point in waiting anymore.  She was standing there looking like that and he was too much of an impatient drunk to care.  “Get over here, baby.  Get over here now.”

“Patience.”

“I have no patience.  Get over here!”

Bee took her time.  She wanted to tease him; make him wait.  She wanted him to groan in frustration and whine in anger.  It was working.  His look of frustration and overall unhappiness with how slow she was going was apparent on his face.  When she finally climbed onto the bed, he picked himself up from his annoyance and practically lunged towards her, wrapping an arm around her body and pulling her down with him, causing her to yelp in laughter.  He began placing light butterfly kisses on her exposed skin, smiling at every giggle that escaped her mouth.

“I’m never gonna get tired of saying that,” Morgan mumbled against her skin.

“What?  Get over here?” she giggled out.

“Noooo,” he chastised.  “Mrs. Rielly.  You’re finally Mrs. Rielly.”

“Finally,” she smiled.  “I can’t believe it either.  This is the best day of my life.”

“This is the best day of my life,” Morgan repeated.  “Can’t believe I landed such a fox.”

“Can’t believe I landed such a hunk.”

Morgan smiled sheepishly as he finally kissed her on the lips, slow and sensual and all encompassing.  “I love you so much, Briony Rielly.”

[cbseung]

cobblestones: modern prince hyunjin au - part 10

[masterlist]

[pt 1] [pt 2] [pt 3] [pt 4] [pt 5] [pt 6] [pt 7] [pt 8] [pt 9] [pt 10] [final]

pairings: hwang hyunjin x reader

wc: 2,600

description: the long awaited ball is finally here! but you technically don’t know how to ballroom dance,, luckily someone here is able to teach you!

a/n: it’s 3:30 am and i haven’t slept so TECHNICALLY it’s still saturday night for me 〜(^∇^〜）hope you enjoy the second to last part! (long part today so i can end this series on the next part (⸝⸝⍢⸝⸝) ෆ )

fiancée?

what?

all these thoughts start running through your head

once again

like

how long has he known and why did he tell you he had feelings for you if HE KNEW he was already engaged and if he knew he was engaged why did he even confess to you if it wasn’t just to play with your feelings and-

“oh! y/n!! it’s so great to finally meet you!!! hyunjin has said so much about you!!” mirai says, cutting your mental breakdown/overthinking/internal rant

so he HAS been talking about you

but more importantly what HAS he been saying about you?

you probably look like a dork because the shock hasn’t worn off yet 

“hey mirai?” hyunjin says

“hm?”

“do you mind if i talk to y/n privately?”

“no not at all! i’ll let you two friends catch up!!”

ah right

friends

because that’s all you guys were after all

you went on two (2) dates of course you weren’t dating

you even said no labels

but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck!!!!

so mirai walks back into the palace

and it’s just you and hyunjin

alone

....

and you wait for him to break the silence because he’s kinda got A LOT to explain to you

“so.. uh how are you” he says

??????

i’m sorry?

the first thing he asks

after he hasn’t seen you for a week 

and he ditched his promise to take you on a date

is how are you??

how does he THINK you are?????

you get like

really mad?

and you could never ever conceal your emotions cause your face just gives it away

so hyunjin 

obviously

can tell that you’re angry

and he sighs

“look, y/n”

at this point you’re fuming

like you’re about to explode

“i was going to tell you.. bu-”

“when? hyunjin? when we went to paris? barcelona? during many many coffee conversations we had?  when we were on the ferris wheel where i told you i liked you back? hyunjin, engagements can’t happen overnight! you’d have to have known!” 

so you’re trying NOT to cry

because it’s stupid 

crying over a boy

who’s only taken you out on two dates

but you can’t help it o(╥﹏╥)o o(╥﹏╥)o o(╥﹏╥)o

“y/n.. i found out when you got here.. remember when you and felix went to brighton? mom told me then, something about keeping the relations between japan and korea happy”

“what? this isn’t the 18th century??”

“i know,, i think it’s a good idea”

“but-”

“but what? it’s almost like you wanna get married to me, wow you call a girl pretty once” hyunjin laughs without a readable emotion 

hahahah

if that was a joke

that was a sucky joke 

you take a deep breath

because you’re trying not to scream and yell at hyunjin

and even worse

you’re trying not to show him how you really feel

so you take a few breaths to calm yourself down

“you know what? i was trying to be a friend and worry about your future and your feelings because i wouldn’t want my friends to be forced into anything that they didn’t want. because that’s all we ever were. friends.” you seethe. “i’ll see you at the ball prince hyunjin”

with your head held high

you walked back into the palace

really fast

because tbh you felt the tears coming

you only wanted one person and one person only

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

you take the rest of the day to recuperate before talking felix or yeji and having to explain yourself

so that night you drag yourself to you and yeji’s shared room and call felix as well

because the bffs need to be updated

“hey yeji.. felix..”

“y/n! my baby!” yeji says

you can always count on yeji to be protective over you

and she has never let you down!!

unlike..

oh look at that you’re crying again

now yeji and felix are concerned

“y/n??????? what happened????? who do i need to fight????” they both say

you sob/laugh

a great sound

and you explain everything to yeji and felix

literally from the beginning so you know that they got the full story

from hyunjin spilling coffee on you to your verbal spats to paris to shopping to barcelona to him confessing to your try out date to you confessing to your actual date that ALL leads up to the confrontation you had with him in the garden

“thaT LITTLE RAT” yeji yells angerly, “felix, you’re his brother wtf is wrong with him??” 

but felix also looks kinda shocked

“it’s kinda weird that i haven’t heard anything about the engagement,,, maybe he really did find out last night”

“even so! he practically ghosted her for the past week!”

“yeah that’s.. still really weird..”

“but enough about him,, y/n are you okay?”

“i.. don’t know.. do i JUST like him? or do i ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʰᶦᵐˀ ”

yeji sighs and replys

“y/n.. what you feel is what you feel, and no one can convince you otherwise” 

“yeah don’t worry about it y/n, you’re leaving soon and we’ll have tons of fun at the ball and you won’t have to worry about him anymore!”

ah but that

kinda makes you sad

it was a really fun summer 

all thanks to hyunjin

but it’s fine

he’s getting married!!

what can you do???

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

IT’S THE DAY OF THE BALL :00

who knew this day would come

also you’re leaving for home tomorrow (｡•́︿•̀｡)

you spent the rest of your days in london with felix and yeji

doing fun bff stuff that you never got to do

you also picked up your dress and did last minute shopping for the ball

because you’RE GONNA LOOK GORGEOUS 

you also spent the last days avoiding hyunjin like THE PLAGUE

he was eating breakfast? guess you were just gonna have to starve

walking down the hallway? you yeeted yourself into the nearest room 

it helped i guess because if you didn’t see him or talk to him then he CAN’T HURT you and your feelings can’t resurface !!!!!!

but anyways

the morning of the ball: hectic

everyone in the palace was running around setting it up 

you were trying your best to help yeji and felix who were off supervising everything 

(apparently this isn’t their first ball,,,,, royal kids am i right ╮(╯▽╰)╭ )

the morning speeds by and yeji yells at you that it’s time to get ready 

this is the really fun part

the whole transformation look

like you don’t USUALLY go all out 

but now you have an excuse!!

it’s a ball!!

at the buckingham palace!!

that yOU helped plan!!!!!

yeji hired a hair stylist and a makeup artist to help with this whole shabang

so you spent the next couple hours chilling and hanging out with yeji while you prepped for the ball!!

felix also popped in to hang out with you guys

and you were really happy! 

but surprise surprise

your mind drifted off to hyunjin 

you just hope he’s happy you know

 ⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

by the time the ball rolls around you and yeji (finally) finish getting ready

and you make your way down the stairs 

and felix is waiting for you 

and surprise suprise

hyunjin is down by the stairs too

at this point

you know you look good

and you’re gonna have to face him eventually

might as well do it when you look good right?

“hey hyunjin..!!”

“ ᵒʰ oH hi.. y/n.. you look..-”

“great! i know!” you say as you wink and laugh

YEAH YOU LAUGHED BUT LIKE WAS THAT GENUINE BRO

“where’s mirai?” you ask 

crossing fingers he’d say that he dumped her and that he wants you but like

that’s not reality

“i’m right here! y/n you look lovely!” she says

“aw mirai you do too!”

you glance at hyunjin

WHO’S STILL LOOKING AT YOU

luckily 

felix is there to whisk you away before it got too suffocating yaknow

“y/n!! you look stunning!!” felix says

“thanks bro you’re not too bad yourself!!” you say

“come on we have to go outside to greet the press and then we can get our BALL on” 

“omg please don’t ever say that” you say as you and felix both laugh

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

so

you go outside and take those press photos with felix

and then it’s hyunjin and mirai’s turn

and you hear the other guests murmur

“ah did you hear that they’re going to announce their engagement today?”

“oh? the prince of south korea and the princess of japan make such a cute couple”

and you’re just like 

they’re not wrong

he’s really pretty, she’s really pretty

he’s a prince, she’s a princess

it’s almost like this match was so carefully planned out

...

anyways

you and felix make it into the ball

and sees the fruits of your labor

and it’s like ??? STUNNING if you do say so yourself

throughout the night, you’re having a lot of fun

eating and talking and laughing with yeji and felix

and next thing you know you hear felix say

“hey y/n it’s time to ballroom dance”

“whAT”

so APPARENTLY you HAVE to dance 

because it’s a ball and APPARENTLY it’s what you do 

“FELIX i don’t know how to dance!”

“it’s okay! i’ll teach you!”

so if you didn’t know

you kinda have two left feet

so you’re gonna look 

a mess

so 5 minutes and 10 broken toes latter

and felix says

“wow, you’re actually kinda bad”

“WOW THANKS”

“we’re gonna need an expert hm?”

“yes please”

so you’re standing there

waiting for felix to come back

“hey.. felix said you needed to learn how to dance?”

oh

you know that voice anywhere

you spent a month and a half with it

OH WAIT

OH NO

you frantically look around for felix

becAUSE HOW DARE HE GET HIM TO TEACH YOU!?!

unfortunately you don’t see him 

SO I GUESS

YOU’RE GONNA HAVE TO 

SLOW DANCE WITH HYUNJIN?

NO THANKS

“uh um i- haha you-you’re the expert?”

“i mean i guess? i dance a lot in my free time so ..”

OH RIGHT BECAUSE HE WANTS TO BE A DANCER

HOW COULD YOU FORGET

sigh “i guess you’ll do, come on i don’t wanna embarrass myself more than i already have”

“ouch i guess i’ll do?”

“yeah,, you’ll do” and you two crack a smile

JUST LIKE OLD TIMES AM I RIGHT

“okay so first, hold my hand”

“o..kay..”

“and put your other hand on my shoulder, and i’ll put my hand on your waist, okay?”

“you got it bud”

now you’re

HEAVILY AWARE of him and you and your hand in his hand and your hand on his shoulder and his arm on your waist

too much has happened it too little time!!

“okay, now step back when i step towards you, and move right when i move left and vice versa. got it?”

“got .. it..”

eventually

you got used to it

with a couple mistakes here and there

but you guys just laughed it off and continued dancing

BUT you got the hang of it

“you look beautiful today” you hear him say

now we’re gonna ignore the clench in your heart and say

“thanks bro, you don’t look bad yourself, prince hyunjin” you respond with a goofy grin

i can’t believe you just bro’ed him

“i can’t believe you just bro’ed me” he says

and now people just saw you and hyunjin laughing as you guys danced around the dance floor

because hyunjin made it fun!

you two were so lost in the moment

you two looked like you were in your own world

you two felt like you were the only two people in the world

he lifts your intertwined hands up and says

“spin!”

so you spin

a little too much

and hyunjin has to pull you back close to him

BUT HE PULLS you JUST

A LITTLE TOO CLOSE to HIS FACE

AND YOU FEEL YOUR BREATH HITCH

and he’s staring at your lips which makes you stare at his lips

and like look SO! SOFT! ⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄ ⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄ ⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄ ⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

AND BEFORE YOU KNOW IT

HE’S COMING CLOSER

AND YOU’RE LIKE

WOAH WAIT BRO

you step back so quick

and see hyunjin’s shocked face

“um, i-” you say, “i-i can’t”

“but y/n-” you hear him say but not before

you SPRINT as fast as you can to the gardens

because you know that the only place that’s safe

away from the ball, away from him, away from your feelings (but that doesn’t work out)

ah but too bad hyunjin FOLLOWS you

you make it through the doors when you hear a

“y/n!” hyunjin yells as he grabs your hand

you refuse to look back at him in fear your feelings overpower and do something you end up regretting

“talk to me,,” you hear, his voice cracks with a hint of sadness and laced with hurt

now this makes you look at him

because this HURTs your heart

and you see hyunjin’s eyes start to tear up

and you PHYSICALLY feel your heart breaking

but your mind (thank god) is still working and kicking and you refuse to give in

without hearing him out first

“you barely said anything to me, i haven’t seen you since i got back, i really,, miss you..” he says

“hyunjin,, i- i can’t,, be around you, and i know it’s selfish of me but i can’t be around you without wanting to hold your hand and kiss your cheek and boop your nose and i can’t be around you unless i want to fall in love with you more and more”

well apparently

youR MOUTH

THINKS FASTER

THAN YOUR BRAIN

BECAUSE YOU’RE 99.9% SURE YOU JUST TOLD HYUNJIN YOU LOVED HIM

“and you’re marrying mirai!” you exasperate, “i can’t do that to her, but please please be selfish for once! and do what you want to do” 

and be with me

“y/n i love you, but i can’t go against my parents’ orders..”

now you feel the wind knocked out of you

so 1) prince hwang hyunjin of south korea loves you back but 2) won’t do anything about it because he “can’t” go against his parent’s orders when he doesn’t even want to be prince in the first place?

but you respect him and his decisions

and you don’t wanna fight a fight you feel like you can’t win

so you crack a smile

a heartbroken

but small smile

“so this is it huh?” you say

“wh-what do you mean?” hyunjin stutters

“i go back home tomorrow silly, and you’re getting married soon! invite me and jinyoung to the wedding so i can meet him okay?” you say, nudging him

like you’re saying this

all trying not to cry

because if there’s one person you’re not crying in front of tonight

it’s hyunjin

you start walking past hyunjin until you stop before the doors that lead into the palace

“hey hyunjin,, thanks. for everything. this summer was everything i asked for and more! i’m glad i met you, i’m glad i met felix, and i’ll cherish the times we spent together. i’ll see you around.”

and those are the last words you say to him before going back to the ball

the last words you say to him for a while

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

a/n: last part coming soon! also down below is the dress i had in mind while writing this part 

[pug-bitch]

That’s not why I’m going (39)

Not again

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake Walker x Amara Suarez

Rating: some foul language, some extremely suggestive. This is absolutely NOT appropriate for people under 18.

Word count: about 3,800 (I’m still on the app, so still no ‘keep reading’ unfortunately, sorry about that!!)

Notes: This picks up exactly where we left off, during the Decision Ball, as Liam is about to announce his choice (sorry again for the cliffhanger, guys, I know I pushed it kinda far :D), starting with Madeleine’s POV.

*****

Madeleine takes her place on the podium, with all the other ladies. She makes a point of staying very far from the ones she despises, which only leaves her with Kiara near her. The rest of them can fuck off.

Her heart is beating faster, but her face is impassible. Her breathing is even, her poise is perfect. Just like she’s been taught. Just like she’s been teaching herself, all her life.

The few seconds that separate her from knowing her fate drag on. When is Liam going to fucking say it? What if she failed at her mission? What if he still wants to choose the slutty commoner? She wishes the King had gone through his original plan to divulge something else on her, before the Decision. What if Madeleine needs that extra advantage?

Suddenly, she’s nervous. She has to keep it together, though, she can’t let it show. No, not now, not when she’s so close to the goal she’s fixed for herself. She looks at the crowd in front of her. Her father’s chair is irrevocably empty. He didn’t make it back from London for the occasion, probably thinking that she’s a lost cause after her broken engagement. Her mother, on the other hand, is here, but it’s exactly as if she weren’t. She’s pounding champagne flutes like it’s her job, not even looking at her regal daughter.

Suddenly, her vision blurs. All eyes are on her. Did she hear it right?

‘Lady Madeleine, I choose you. Will you accept this ring?’

Yes, yes she did. She heard it right. Time to flash a smile, to seal the deal.

‘I will,’ she says. And the crowd claps.

*****

Bastien sighs as he exits the room, about to execute the plan laid out by the King. Is this really necessary? The Prince has chosen the woman that his father wanted him to choose. Why hound the others?

He knows this is above his pay grade. But what can he say, when the King himself is giving the orders? So, he finds Rocco, one of the staff members who has been helping out with the plans, and he hands him the flashdrive.

‘When the first song ends, turn off the lights and project this.’

Rocco nods and leaves, without a word.

Well, Bastien thinks, it’s out of his hands, now.

*****

Amara turns to Olivia and Hana, a hesitant look on her face. She wants to rejoice —Liam hasn’t insisted, and hasn’t chosen her, plus he’s left Olivia alone, too. But parts of her fear that Cordonia’s future won’t be optimal, with such a cold and calculating Queen, and an immature and self-involved King. A few weeks ago, she would have just thought that it’s not her problem, but she’s come to love this country, and the people in it. Plus, she can’t help but think that Madeleine most definitely being behind all the leaks shows that there is no justice in the world. She got what she wanted, by means of deception and manipulation.

Still, Amara is relieved. Maybe she can go back to living her life, now? Liv and Hana give her a relieved but wary smile, and she understands that they’re on the same page as her.

All three of them turn to Madeleine and offer her their congratulations, which she accepts gracefully. If anything, the bitch is perfect for the job, on paper, Amara thinks.

Time for the first dance for the newly engaged couple. The other ladies leave the podium and regain their table, where they can watch Liam and Madeleine dance the Cordonian waltz —Amara looks all around her and meets Drake’s eye. He smiles at her, and her heart melts. Are they free, now? Is it that simple? Maybe she’s simply scared of believing it, maybe it’s just too good to be true.

‘Are you ok?’ Amara whispers to Liv.

She nods. ‘Yeah. Relieved for myself —and you—, but scared for the future of this fucking country.’ She shakes her head. ‘This bitch got what she wanted after all,’ she says under her breath.

Hana nods. ‘Now it’s time for the nobility to be on their toes, to counteract any crazy, cold-hearted moves she might make.’

Amara smiles. ‘Agreed. Liv, you and Bertrand, and Rashad and the others, you’ll have some work to do.’

Liv smirks. ‘Well… maybe not just us. Think about it. Maybe it’s the right time to make the most of the offer that will come your way soon.’

Amara looks at her, and Liv raises an eyebrow, a mischievous look on her face. Amara sighs. ‘So you think I should accept? And sign with my blood, basically, to be in the spotlight all my life, and no be able to return home to see my family?’

Liv sighs. ‘Don’t be dramatic, Suarez. Chill out. I was just mentioning it, but you do what you want. Plus, this isn’t The Little Mermaid or some shit —you can go back to the ocean to see your Daddy, no one is cutting off your legs.’

Hana frowns. ‘I’m not sure you watched the movie right, Olivia.’

Amara laughs. ‘Yeah, it’s not how it works. But I do agree that my dad has a King Triton vibe. Especially the beard.’ She takes a sip of her champagne. ‘But you’re right. I’ll think about it, at least.’

She is thinking about it, though. And, although it sounds tempting —being in Cordonia, with her friends, and not having to worry about returning to her depressing life in NYC— she can’t help but think about how miserable it would be for Drake. For them both. For Dramara, as Max would say. They would have to hide, at least until they tell Liam about their relationship, and then who knows how he would react.

But Amara’s thoughts have to wait. Eyes on the present. Liam and Madeleine end the waltz with a deep curtsy to the audience, who claps harder and harder. Amara finishes her glass, now is time for the dancefloor to be open to everyone. She should invite Max to dance.

But before she can get up, all lights are out. Gasps all around.

‘What the fuck?’ Liv whispers.

Amidst the commotion, Amara hears many panicked comments, a lot of them being ‘Not again’, and she remembers what Drake and Max had told her about the previous assassination attempts at court. Her instincts kick in and she gets up to place herself in front of Hana and Liv.

But a few seconds later, a light comes on. Not from one of the main chandeliers, but from a projector that sheds light on the stage. Amara’s heart beats faster. What the hell could this be?

Suddenly, she understands. The projector shows a massive picture, that she recognizes instantly.

It’s a picture of her, with Tariq. She is in her underwear, and Tariq’s hands are around her waist, making it look like they’re about to have sex. The shot is taken from a distance, with a zoom lens, which gives the picture a blurry quality. If it wasn’t this blurry, maybe people could see Amara’s disgusted and shocked look, but no.

All they see is a woman who’s sleeping with a friend of the guy she’s supposed to compete with.

A lot of Ooh and Aahs resonate through the ballroom, and Amara can hear Liv and Hana next to her, cursing out loud. She could almost smile at the thought of Hana swearing like a sailor, but her heart’s not in it.

*****

Drake’s heart jumps in his chest as he sees the picture on the ballroom wall. How dare they?

He leaps up on his feet, quickly followed by Maxwell and Michael, who is clearly wondering what’s going on. Of course he is; whoever took the picture made sure to get Amara’s profile so she wouldn’t look under attack, and they waited for the exact right moment to take the photo.

They had been waiting it out in the building across, and they knew Tariq would be there.

Tears of rage fill Drake’s eyes. So, they submitted Amara to an assault so they could get this picture? So they could ensure that she wouldn’t be Queen?

He just knows Madeleine has something to do with it. She has to.

But what breaks his heart is that Bastien does too.

*****

Leo chugs the rest of his drink. Damn, this social season is full of surprises. He’s almost jealous of all of the attention his little brother is getting, all the drama he’s inspiring.

This Amara is definitely not shy, though. He wasn’t wrong to try something with her, earlier, she would probably say yes if he insisted. Food for thought.

He looks around the room, and his eyes stop on her. She’s standing up, her chin wobbly. Hm, not the look of someone who’s been caught red-handed. She looks like she’s about to cry, when two minutes ago, she seemed perfectly happy not to have been chosen. Odd.

His head turns to the next table. More people are standing up. Maxwell, of course, who’s probably shocked to get an eyeful of his protégée. That man who’s Max’s plus one, too.

And Drake. Drake who’s standing up, helpless, his eyes wet.

Again—odd.

*****

Liam takes a deep breath as the lights come back on. For a split second when the lights went off, his heart jumped in his chest, and he flashed back to the last time the whole ballroom went dark. And the time before. When one of these sudden moments deprived him of his mother. And then, later on, when his father was targeted, and Drake’s saved him, at the cost of his own life. He shakes the feeling off. This whole thing was bad, for a completely different set of reasons. Madeleine turns to him and, in a monotone voice, whispers, ‘Wow. She had some guts sleeping with your friend behind your back. Is that why Tariq left court suddenly?’

Liam’s head spins. He nods. ‘Yes, I suppose it is,’ he whispers back.

He can’t say more. Not yet. He has to keep it together, for the sake of appearances. But there’s a lot he needs to think about.

He clears his throat and puts on his best regal smile, trying not to look at Amara, who is running out of the room. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, my security team and I will look into this matter as soon as possible, but for now, since everyone is unharmed, let’s resume the festivities.’

Most of the courtiers start chatting again, but Liam can see clearly that his close friends are trickling out, one by one, to follow Amara. Again.

He’s dying to do the same. Check on her, see if she’s holding up ok. This has happened two days in a row now. He can’t even imagine how targeted she must feel.

As the music starts again, his father approaches him. ‘Liam, you better invite your fiancée to dance again,’ he says. He gets closer to him and whispers in his ear, ‘See, when I told you it wasn’t a good idea to let strangers in. Now she has made a fool out of all of us.’

Liam frowns as his father goes back to his seat. This is awfully convenient. Just earlier, his father was trying to convince him not to let Amara stay, and now she was exposed and framed?

Yep, someone was taken for a fool alright.

Too bad for his father, Liam knows that the picture that was just projected up there does not depict a consensual encounter.

*****

Drake is breathless when he gets outside, where Amara is trying to calm down, near the fountain. ‘Here you are,’ he says, ‘are you ok?’

She nods and laughs through tears. ‘What the fuck, right? That was a setup?’

Drake sighs deeply. ‘I know. I don’t even know what to say.’

She shakes her head. ‘There’s nothing to say. We’re in the middle of a snake nest. There are some people in there who are not above staging a fucking sexual aggression to get what they want.’ She laughs nervously. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy Liam chose Madeleine, as in I’m happy he didn’t pick me, or Liv, or Hana. But man, it does hurt to see that the worst people get rewarded for their shitty actions.’

Drake nods and closes in the distance between them, enveloping Amara in a warm hug, not caring one bit if someone sees them. ‘Babe,’ he whispers, ‘I think Madeleine was helped by Bastien. He did tell me a while ago that whoever he works for has some dirt on you, I just thought the dirt was...well, Michael, after last night.’

Amara tightens her grip on Drake and takes a deep breath. ‘Fuck...I’m sorry, Drake, I know Bastien meant a lot to you.’

Drake snorts. ‘I’m the one who should be sorry, Amara. I wish I could make you feel better, right now.’

Amara smiles. ‘You are making me feel better. Just you being here with me helps.’

An out-of-breath Maxwell and a confused Michael join them outside. They both rush to Amara’s side and Maxwell exclaims, ‘Fuck, Amara, this is so bad. How are you feeling?’

Amara nods. ‘Dumbfounded. Can’t believe they’re making me relive this fucking moment and making it seem like I was enjoying it.’

Michael cuts in and hugs Amara. ‘I’m so sorry, hun, this is terrible. Did he—‘

Amara cuts him off. ‘This guy—Tariq—came to my room pretending it was his, and acted like I was trying to seduce him. I, um…’

Drake smiles sadly, remembering this infuriating yet badass moment. ‘She incapacitated him, like a boss. Tackled him and twisted his arm until he ran away like a pathetic bastard.’

Michael snorts. ‘That’s my girl. Did he hurt you?’

Amara shakes her head. ‘No, he didn’t have time. As you could see in the—‘ she sighs ‘pic...he did grab me, but right after that, he was on the ground.’

Michael takes a deep breath. ‘Shit. Did you report him? This is assault, Amara, you need to—‘

Amara cuts him off. ‘No, I probably should have, but to be honest, I would have been buried by the royal police. Tariq is a noble, and as I’m starting to realize, all security is pretty much corrupt these days…’

Drake’s eyes wander off. She’s right. He had trusted Bastien and the other members of the Royal Guard, but now it was clear that they only saw what they wanted to see. ‘You could still report him to the actual police, right?’

Amara shrugs. ‘Honestly? I probably could, but at this point it would look like I’m trying to bury this. Plus, I can’t shake the feeling that Tariq was actually telling the truth.’

Drake raises an eyebrow. ‘What do you mean?���

She smiles weakly, and takes a seat on the foot of a column. The three men sit on the ground by her, Michael doing so carefully so as not to wrinkle Max’s tux. Amara continues. ‘It’s clear it was a setup, obviously. Like, the camera was ready to shoot the exact moment when it looked like I was consenting. I was set up, there’s no doubt about that.’ She pauses. ‘But maybe Tariq was set up too.’

Maxwell perks up. ‘You mean he was really told this was his room?’

She nods. ‘Yeah. He was so adamant that I was waiting for him in his room, at the time I was just annoyed and threatened by his insistence, but now I wonder why he had to say that. I mean, if he was sent to me to seduce me and get some pictures out of it, no need to serve me the whole room spiel, right?’

Drake nods. ‘Right. You’re right. Plus, I remember that, when I came in, and he was on the ground, he kept insisting on it. Like, would not let it go.’

Amara nods. ‘Exactly. No, this is a whole thing. It was planned all along.’

‘Where is that guy now?’ Michael asks. ‘Can we talk to him?’

Amara shrugs. ‘What for? Everyone thinks I’m a slut, I’m no longer welcome here, it’s pretty clear, huh?’

Maxwell puts his hand on her arm. ‘Not at all. We all want you here, Little Blossom. Hana and Liv stayed behind to gather some info, but they’re both devastated for you, this is outrageous and we’ll get to the bottom of this. We need you, babe.’

She takes Max’s hand and squeezes it. ‘Thanks, Max, but I heard some of the comments from the crowd. I’m being slutshamed for having been almost assaulted. And, I guess, for being in my underwear in my own room.’

‘We need to talk to this guy and figure it out,’ Michael insists. ‘Does anyone have his number? His address? I can go.’

Drake shakes his head. ‘I can give you both of those things, but Tariq disappeared from court after the assault. He was never seen again.’

Michael snorts. ‘Well, if that isn’t irrefutable proof that something’s up…’

‘That’s true,’ Drake agrees. ‘I was just happy to be rid of that asshole at the time, but now I suppose we could use his perspective.’

Amara laughs nervously. ‘Guys, this is useless. Can’t you see that this is a game I can’t win? Someone—no, let me get this right—several people don’t want me here, and they’re making damn sure I’m no longer welcome. It’s clear that over here, justice is not served. So...maybe I should just give the people what they want.’

*****

Hana separates from the group of former contestants and approaches the newly engaged couple. She and Liv agreed to stay behind, since Amara was well tended to, so that they could keep their eyes and ears open. This whole thing was crazy, everyone who was close to Amara knew that those pictures were a setup.

And a cruel one at that. Hana had felt extremely violated when the picture of her with Caroline had surfaced, because it divulged a very private side of her life. However, in this picture, she was fully clothed, and depicted with the person she loved. Nothing scandalous about that, unless you’re a bigot.

Liv’s leak was a lot more personal, since it involved her sex life, and nudity of course, but at least, it was not her naked body that had been circulated to the whole court —although Hana did feel bad for that poor Ilya, whose penis was now known by all of Cordonia.

This time, whoever was leaking pictures —Madeleine probably, even though she couldn’t have been the one who physically projected the picture tonight, as she was dancing— was putting someone in full display. On top of being literal defamation, this whole thing was circulating almost naked pictures of Amara. Hana couldn’t let that pass.

This time, justice would have to be served.

‘Congratulations again, you two!’ She says politely to Liam and Madeleine, with a brief curtsy. ‘I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.’

‘Thank you, dear,’ Madeleine purrs. ‘Now, I do hope to see you on the engagement tour. I will need all the help I can get, and Lord knows you are good at a lot of boring things.’

Liam chuckles, embarrassed. ‘Madeleine,’ he protests, ‘this is a little rude! Hana has many talents, none of them are boring,’ he adds.

Madeleine rolls her eyes. ‘Of course. Force of habit. I’m not used to not being in competition mode. Hana, will you forgive me?’

Hana thinks back to the cup of warm coffee that landed on her lap not too long ago. She forces a smile. ‘No apologies necessary. I’ll be happy to help in any way I can. In the meantime, may I be so forward as to inviting the Prince for a dance? Madeleine, you and I both know that I was never any type of competition.’

Madeleine sighs. ‘By all means.’

Liam holds out his arm for Hana to take. The two glide effortlessly across the dancefloor. Hana is such a good dancer, she doesn’t need to think of her next move, and can concentrate on her much needed conversation with Liam. ‘Liam, what happened?’ She asks, maintaining a perfect smile.

Liam sighs discreetly. ‘I don’t know, but it’s not good, Hana. How is she?’

‘Not sure. The guys are out with her. I’m so glad Michael’s here, in the end, it was a blessing in disguise.’

Liam smiles. ‘I know. I’m glad too. Look, I’m sure you know this as well, but this picture with Tariq… it was a setup. Amara told me about it after it happened, and he tried to assault her.’

Hana nods. ‘I know. Someone was out there waiting to take a picture of them. It’s despicable.’

Liam nods. ‘I think…’ he pauses for a long time, visibly struggling to find his words. ‘I think there are too many coincidences. Right before my Decision, I had been telling my father that I want to give a duchy to Amara, to—‘ he pauses again. ‘You know, as a gesture. An apology. Um…’ he lets go of Hana’s hand, ever so briefly, to run it through his hair. He continues. ‘Father was appalled. He reluctantly agreed to talk about it some more after the Ball. And now, now this is completely soiling her reputation, which is perfect for Father. I hate to say this, Hana, but… I do think he was involved.’

Hana nods. ‘Liam, I’m sorry. You must be so disappointed… At the same time, he’s the King, and your father, you can’t exactly go around accusing him, right?’

Liam nods, a sad smile on his lips. ‘You’re right, I can’t. No one can, really, at least not without proof.’

Hana sighs. ‘So, what do we do?’

Liam shrugs. ‘I don’t think we have many options.’

She nods decidedly. ‘We have to find Tariq, and investigate.’

Liam smiles a bit more earnestly. ‘Exactly. And Hana?’

‘Yes?’

‘I hope I didn’t make a fucking huge mistake,’ he whispers as he looks to Madeleine.

*****

Amara is still sitting on that column, her head buried in her hands. Next to her, Maxwell and Michael are trying to get a hold of Tariq but she feels like it’s in vain. Even if they track him down, and he confesses or whatever, so what? What is it gonna change?

And, even if the picture they projected is a lie, a painful reminder of the time she was almost assaulted, well, the message behind it is true, isn’t it?

She is sleeping with the Prince’s friend. She did fall in love with him, and that night, she did disrobe and say ‘come in’ to Tariq because she thought he was Drake.

Drake’s arms are around her, he’s soothing her gently. She’s so grateful for this man, for his presence, his strength, his compassion… But she’s tired of needing him to comfort her.

Tired of being meek, of being fragile. Now that her old wounds are closing up a bit, now that things are pretty much patched up with Michael, life has to throw another pile of shit at her, and yet again, she needs her friends to run out of the Palace to follow her teary-ass self.

That’s not the person she wants to be. Enough. Not again.

She lifts up her head and looks at Drake. ‘Babe?’ He asks hesitantly.

She smiles at him. ‘Walker, let’s get the fuck out of here.’

*****

Taglist:

@drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @jovialyouthmusic @andy-loves-corgis @mariahschoices @drakesensworld @thequeenofcronuts @notoriouscs @drakewalkerisreal @nikkis1983​ @simsvetements @alesana45 @iplaydrake @emceesynonymroll @lily1999love @drakewalkerwhipped @drakxwalker @drakewalkerrosenberg @drakeswalkers @drakelover78 @silviasutton1989 @dcbbw @texaskitten30 @furiousherringoperatortoad @hollygirl1269 @sirbeepsalot @ladyangel70 @thisperfectmemory @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @mrsmairstanley @addictedtodrakefanfic

Thank you for your encouragements, everyone! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

[httphopewrld]

I Don’t Know What to Call This | (f/m/a) sneak peek!!!

Just Friends? Friends with benefits? Dating? Questions swarmed your mind when one of your dear friends, Allie, asked about you and Hoseok’s relationship. The truth was you didn’t know. You and Hoseok were close, knowing each other since elementary school, and considered each other friends. However, as you two grew older, maturing into separate professions—you a well-known fashion designer, and Hoseok a famous musician and dancer—you two had engaged in some intimate activities (sex—lots of it.) After Allie’s simple question, you had to confront your feelings. But were you and Hoseok ready to be more than close friends and fuck buddies?

Pairing: friend/lover/bfhoseok! x female reader

Genre: slow-burn fluff, some angst, and SMUT

Rating: 18+ because there’s swearing and pretty detailed smut

Warnings: swearing and SMUT (one of the most detailed smuts I’ve written, and there’s more than one sex scene.) Smut includes: switch!reader and switch!hoseok, grinding and thrusting, protective sex (USE CONDOMS, I cannot stress that enough), lots of kissing, ass-grabbing, dirty talk, a wee bit of choking on both sides, squirting, male and female oral, fingering and handjobs, vibrator use, cyber-sex, reader uses dildo, slight degradation, and just lots of filth—YOU’RE WELCOME FELLOW FILTHY ANIMALS.

Word Count: more than 10,000 (not finished yet)

A/N: Happy birthday J-Hope! Although the fic won’t be released today, or tomorrow, on his birthday, it will be out next Friday (February 26). Please let me know in the comments if you wanted to be included in the taglist, and what you think!

Taglist: @kirbykook @kleritata @taestannie @jenotation @hemmos-obrien​ @zeharilisharaban @speed-of-wind 

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

You can move those over there,” you gestured to the left corner of the windowed room, where a pile of boxes waited. The move was going to take longer than you expected because the movers arrived a week later than your assistant, Rachel, said. I really need to talk to her about this. You stressed in your mind, rubbing your temples. “Are you okay?” You looked up, vision resuming its focus on your friend, Allie. Allie, your friend for as long as you could remember, offered to help you move to your new building. She would help you manage everything, including the movers, tracking your company’s items, and the layout you gave to her for said things while you managed the company. “I’m just irritated at Rachel,” you noticed her confusion, “my new assistant.” She nodded, remembering, “Right. Why is she still employed?” “Because she’s new, and being an assistant is a tough feat. She’ll get it soon.” You reassured, “Rachel is a fast learner, and this is her first mistake. We’re prepared for the next show, though, because Westley helping me organize it.” “Remind me who Westley is?” Allie asked. You sighed. “West is like my second brain. He helps organize the fashion shows, hire the models, find the venues, and secure the guest list. He has other people help him too, but he’s the brains of that. I create the fashion, and he finds a way to present it.” Allie nodded, “Gotcha.” Your phone rang, and you answered. “Y/N.” “Y/N!” Rachel chimed on the other end. “It’s Rachel. I’m so sorry about the mix-up on dates. It won’t happen again, I—” “I know it won’t, Rachel. You’re new, so I expected to slip up. I’ve gotten it taken care of,” you nudged Allie’s arm, and she smiled. “We’re luckily prepared for the next show in Vancouver, so you don’t have to worry about the mess up. All I need you to do now is make sure that my fabrics are coming in.” “Yes! They’ve arrived at the studio.” Rachel replied. “Fantastic. Thank you. That’ll be all for now. Please check on West if he needs anything.” You requested. “Will do, Y/N. Talk to you soon.” You hung up. The Vancouver show was in five months, giving you and your team enough time to design the clothes for the production and move to the new building. The show’s theme was natural bodies of water and nature, a nod to Canada’s landscape. The clothing catalogue would include various icy blue shades to represent waterfalls and warm emerald tones like flora and fauna. These colours would be encapsulated in elegant gowns and suits, worn by different shapes, genders, and colours. The materials would be made from recycled fabrics from your previous shows and from your fellow artists. You were known for designing elegant attire, so it was best to keep to it. However, it was rare to see different sized, coloured, and gendered models on a runway; because of having to customize clothes to those models. Additionally, making clothes from recycled fabrics would be tough. “Okay,” you began, “I need to talk to my design team and plan out the gowns. Can I leave you here to deal with the movers?” Allie gave you a thumbs up. “Thank you,” you smiled, hugging her, “if you need anything, please call me or Rachel, or both. We’ll be back to help.” Before you left, a thought struck you. You turned around to face Allie. “I should just hire you.” She chuckled, “Why?” You scoffed, “Because you’re here all the time!” You backed back to her. “Listen, you’re the best manager I know. You can be my third brain. You already are, outside of work, so it would make sense.” Allie seemed unsure. “I already have my job at Youth and Hope.” You grasped her hands. “You would be given a great wage, not just because you’re my best friend, but because you’re going to be busy with lots of work. You would be handling the management tasks, like West. You’d be given a good amount of vacation, trips for shows and meetings would be paid for—you could get that loft you always wanted downtown.” You wiggled your eyebrows, and Allie laughed. “Don’t I have to go through an interview process?” You brushed a hand through the air. “I can get someone to interview you and officially hire you. Once that’s done, you’ll start getting paid.” You checked your watch, and a quick rush of panic ran through you. “Shit, I’m going to be late. Consider it, alright! Let me know your availability, and we’ll schedule an interview!” “Okay!” She shouted back as you left. . . The coffee had become bitter. You weren’t sure if it was the roast or the fact that this was your fourth cup of the night. It had been a month since the fabrics arrived. Thanks to Allie, your friend and now employee, your move to the new building was complete; however, your designs weren’t translating as smoothly as you wish. “Fuck,” you cursed, taking your head in your hands and rubbing your temples. The sketches waited in front of you. The measurements and ideas raking at your confidence. Your designs are redundant. You’ve done something similar last time.                                                                       Boring. Plain. You turned back to your mannequins, still bare. The theme was in your mind, and your design team reassured you that your sketches were fine, but it all felt fuzzy. “Y/N,” Rachel peered into the studio from the door, “there’s a gentleman here to see you.” “His name?” You asked, still looking at the mannequins. You heard footsteps retreat into the front lobby, then come back to the door. “Jung Hoseok?” You turned around, trying to contain your excitement. “Please send him in.” Rachel nodded, jogging back to the lobby. You heard a muffled “thank you” before heavy footsteps approaching your studio. Hoseok reached the doorway, beaming his signature smile. He wore acid-washed jeans, a baggy white sweater that matched his chunky light sneakers. His dark hair was slightly wavy and parted in the middle. A tote bag was slung over his shoulder. “Y/N!” He cheered, opening his arms wide. “Hoseok!” You replied, running into his arms and hugging him tightly. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Hoseok—a year or two? “Fuck, how long has it been?” You asked him. He pulled away, thinking. “About six months?” Totally off. “Seriously, it felt longer than that.” You argued. Hoseok pulled out his phone and scrolled through his calenderer and photos. He made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Ah, see here,” he showed you a few photos of you two with his friends, who were also his bandmates, “six months ago, you joined us on tour for a couple days before coming back here. I have it also marked in my calendar.” He showed you the dates, which were marked with ‘💚Y/N’s visit💚.’ “Can Namjoon or Yoongi confirm this?” You crossed your arms. Hoseok mimicked your body language. “I can call them right now,” he challenged. You two stood in competitive tension. You succumbed. “You win this time, Jung Hoseok.” He playfully chuckled. You realized that Hoseok doesn’t live around here. “Wait, why are you in town. Shouldn’t you and the others be in Korea planning another album or something?” You speculated. “Our company gave us a month for vacation because we spent most of the year touring.” Hoseok sighed. “So, I decided to come to visit.” You hugged him again, happy to see someone who wasn’t your employee amidst this chaos of stress. “How long are you staying?” You asked, muffled against his chest. He paused. “Maybe a month?” You pulled away from him, shocked. “A month? Here? That’s all your vacation time.” “Yeah,” he replied, as if that wasn’t a big deal, “I didn’t want to travel to a bunch of places because the group and I have been doing that for almost a year—and it’s pretty chill in this area.” He sighed. “Besides, I don’t think many people would recognize me. The airport wasn’t busy, and I haven’t been swarmed by fans yet.” “Do you have a place to stay?” You asked. He nodded. “Yup! I’m staying at a fancy hotel. I got the suite at the top floor,” he made a gesture with his hand, indicating how high up his suite was. You playfully elbowed his side. “Wow look at you, Mr. Famous. You can afford a top suite now. Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me, though?” Hoseok dismissed your offer with a wave of his hand. “It’s alright, Y/N. Thank you, though.” He peered over your shoulder, “It looks like you’re busy anyway, so I think I’ll just stick to my suite.” He walked past you, over to the bare mannequins. “Are you preparing for that show in Vancouver that you told me about?” You nodded, relaying your theme and ideas to him. He smiled. “That sounds really cool,” he pointed to the mannequins, “but don’t you need some clothes for the show, then?” You rolled your eyes, chuckling at him for being a smart ass. “Yes, I do. I’m brainstorming some ideas right now, but I’m coming up with nothing. I have the design team coming in tomorrow with drafts, but I’d like to bring my own thing to the table, you know? I’m the main brain of this operation, and it’d be embarrassing if I come in with zilch.” You leaned against one of the tables, facing the mannequins. “The tough part is designing gowns that fit the right people, you know. Sure, you can make a collection of clothes, but they won’t look good if they don’t fit the models.” You shook your head. “Maybe it’s just tougher to design clothes for different bodies, genders, and colours. I should just stick to one type of person and leave it at that.” Hoseok walked up beside you, leaning against the same table and facing the figures. “Why don’t you find the models and then design the clothes?” You looked at him, surprised. “But wouldn’t that take a long time?” He crossed his arms, “Well, how many models would you need?” “We’re thinking around seventy. There’s going to be two changes within the show.” Hoseok nodded, and you could see him brainstorming. “Well, you have four months left, right? You and your team can make some drafts, cast the models, and then finalize the ideas with said models. Which would take about a couple of months? You could do that while planning the show?” He paused, appearing to notice your hesitant expression. “Think about it. You’ve trained your team well enough to work on its own, right? That’s what you did for your last show, which was a success. You came in every day for a couple hours to make sure everything was in order, then focused on other things.” Hoseok grasped your hands. “You’re great at multitasking, so do it. It’s scary, but you can check on people every day to make sure everything’s alright.” You bit your lip, “I-I don’t know, Hoseok. That sounds like a lot of work—” “You did it last time, and it worked out just fine,” he gently squeezed your hands, “and I’m here for a month. I can help out whenever you need me. I’ll simply clean things up and fetch coffee if that’s what you need.” You laughed, “Like my intern?” “Yeah! I don’t know how to design anything or plan a fashion show, but I’ll do what I can.” He smiled. “You’re so much more than you think, Y/N, and if you need reminders, I’ll be here.” You smiled back at him, so grateful to have him here. “My god, you’re fucking sweet,” you scoffed, taking your hands out of his. Hoseok laughed. You pushed yourself off the table and faced him. “How did we even become friends?” You questioned. He actually gave it a thought. “You joined by dance club in elementary school, when no one else would.” He laughed so hard that he teared up. “I think we actually took club photos, and it was only you and I posing.” You laughed with him, remembering those days spent trying to breakdance to hip hop and presenting dance routines to your parents. “Yeah, that was before you joined that Music Academy in grade four, right?” He nodded, and you sighed, surprised you still remembered. Your mind came back to the present. “So, you’re actually okay with helping out?” You checked. “Why would I ask if I didn’t want to?” Hoseok replied. You tapped your index finger against your temple, “true.” “So, how much do you want?” Hoseok looked offended at your question. You chuckled. “Well, you’re going to work for me, so I need to pay you.” “It’s only just a month, though.” “Yeah, but—” “What about we see how much you have me do before you pay me?” He interrupted. “I might just have to fetch coffee, so you can just give me money on the spot.” You thought about it for a minute. Hoseok yawned. “This work talk is making me tired. Do you want to go out for dinner?” He looked around you, “Unless you have more work to do. I can always wait in the lobby for you to finish.” You brushed your hand through the air, “Nah, it’s okay. I’m pretty brain dead anyway. I need to be energized for tomorrow’s draft review.” Hoseok pushed himself off the table and clapped. “Awesome! Where do you think I’m taking you for dinner?” You bit your lip, trying to guess. “Sushi?” “Sushi it is!” He beamed. You grabbed your things and followed him out of the studio.

[mercurysnitch]

You Make My Dreams Come True (One Magnificent Year)

Summary: The year Joe and Reader got married turned out to be a very big one for their family.

A/N: It’s finally here! The “bonus chapter” is finally done, and it only took three and a half months 😆 (life got in the way for a while there, it wasn’t supposed to take quite this long). I am so so pleased to finally be sharing it with you (I hope it lives up to all the anticipation). Now that you can see how long this is you’ll understand why I thought including these events would have dragged out the main story too much 🤣. For reference, this starts soon after the climax of part 6 (Reader and Joe getting engaged) and goes on from there.

Some disclaimers: I should have mentioned in Part 6 that I’ve never been to the USA so all parts in New York are based on what I’ve picked up from watching many many movies and TV shows set there. Sorry if anything’s horribly inaccurate, I tried to be at least somewhat realistic. This story features an overseas wedding being planned in only three months, which seemed feasible to me, but I’ve never planned a wedding so I might have been a bit optimistic there. I’ve never been pregnant or had children so all of that stuff is based on research. I think it’s mostly realistic, but some of it might not be completely accurate for twins/preemies, so sorry in advance. Also I think I might have outed myself as an old school music fan with some of the songs mentioned in here.

Because this is the story of a single year, it’s broken into months with little timeskips between sections. The months are all different lengths, so hopefully it’s not too choppy. I feel like it rambles a bit towards the end, but I think overall it works.

As always, please forgive any typos I may have missed.

Italics indicate reader’s inner thoughts.

Warnings: pregnancy, vomiting, children, babies, non-graphic birth, premature birth, some angst, allusions to sex, mild illness

Word count: 20.6k (grab a cup of tea and settle in, it’s a long one)

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New Year's Eve in New York City. Just like last year, and yet at the same time, so very different. This year, Joe’s traditional New Year’s Eve party was going to be a celebration of so much more. Lucy and Rami insisted on coming to celebrate your engagement as much as the new year. Joe had of course sent an announcement to the ‘band’ group chat almost the moment you got home, and you’d spent the next three days in a whirlwind of calls, texts and video chats. Joe wanted to post something on Instagram almost immediately, but you persuaded him to hold off until you could tell his extended family in person at Christmas. He was annoyed until he saw their reactions to your announcement. Needless to say, it went down very well.

And then he finally made his Instagram post on Boxing Day, which lifted his mood enormously. He chose a sweet selfie he’d taken of the two of you hugging Tallulah, whose face was hidden, with the hand bearing your ring held close to the camera. He captioned it ‘Well we had a great Christmas celebrating this… Two weeks ago she said yes. Still can’t believe I get these two for the rest of my life now.’ The reaction was practically immediate and overwhelmingly positive. Even Brian left a comment: ‘Congratulations to a lovely couple! Wishing you endless happiness. Bri.’ You couldn’t help smiling at all the positivity. “They’re all so happy for us, Joe” you commented. He was confused. “Well, yeah, it’s happy news, right?” “It is,” you agreed, “but I thought people might be put off by the whole stepkid thing.” “Most people actually think it’s really sweet” Joe assured you.

All in all, you were a very happy family when New Year’s Eve rolled around. Joe’s various friends were keen to celebrate with you, Tallulah was eagerly counting down the last few days before Roger’s arrival, and you felt a general sense that all was right with the world. Ben’s unexpected arrival at the party was a nice treat too. Even Tallulah was pleased to see one of her favourite people in the world. Sitting with Joe after your midnight kiss, you felt incredibly content. “This year’s going to be a good one, isn’t it?” You mused. “Definitely” Joe agreed, kissing you gently. “It’s going to be great.”

January

You weren’t expecting to get into wedding planning after being engaged for less than three weeks, but Joe was keen to set a date as soon as possible. “I’m an actor, I need to know when I’m not going to be available” he explained one night, when you questioned his urgency to make plans. There was just one decision you needed to make before making any firm plans: would you have the wedding in New York or back home in the UK? You fretted for nearly a week after Joe first raised the question, not wanting to inconvenience any of your potential guests. "Babe, wherever we have the wedding someone's going to have to travel to get to it" Joe reminded you, after you told him about your severe indecision on the matter. "We might as well just pick the location we want, and leave it to the guests to decide if it’s too far for them." You considered this for a moment. "I suppose you're right" you agreed finally. "I usually am" Joe quipped. "Seriously though, where do you actually want to do it?" "I think… I'd rather get married in Britain" you replied, hesitantly. Joe smiled. "Britain it is then."

He paused. "Actually I was kinda hoping you'd say that, I'd love for Roger and Brian to be there." "Why?" you asked, surprised. "Well, we wouldn't be here without them. Especially Roger" Joe explained. "Don't you think it'd be a little strange for Roger to be there?" you questioned. "He is sort of my ex, you know." "He's also the one who introduced us" Joe pointed out. "Still a bit weird, but I suppose you're right" you conceded. Why is my life so bloody weird? It'd be nice for Roger to be there, spend some time with Loolah, see my family… oh God. You must have groaned out loud, because Joe suddenly looked concerned. "You ok babe?" he asked. "Yeah, I just realised that if Roger comes to our wedding he'll have to meet my parents" you explained. "Is… is that a problem?" Joe was confused. "Well, considering my father is under the impression he got me pregnant and then basically abandoned me to raise the child alone for five years, let's just say Roger's not exactly my dad's favourite person" you clarified. "I'm sure they'll be fine" Joe reassured you, "Roger's, like, ridiculously charming and friendly when he wants to be." "I know" you replied gently. "So, you still want to get married in England?" Joe asked jokingly. You smiled. "Yes." "Well then," he replied, smiling contentedly, "looks like we've got a location, so let's set a date."

Setting a date, however, proved to be easier said than done. You quickly realised that getting married in England would be an excellent excuse for a holiday, so you decided to make it a two-week trip, with the wedding in the middle followed by a week's honeymoon, during which Tallulah could spend some time with her dad. This meant you needed to find a convenient time of year for you and Joe to have a holiday, that would also be ok for Roger. And then you'd need a venue that was available at the right time.

Finding a venue in England, while more or less stuck in New York was something of a challenge. Google was of course immensely helpful, but it soon became clear you would need someone on the ground there too. You were wondering who to ask when you realised most of your bridal party still lived in the UK. Destiny was your maid of honour, and she was more than happy to help. "Anything you need, lovie, just give me a call" she assured you. You soon found yourself asking her to look at a venue for you, an old stately home in a country village barely an hour outside London.

The house looked beautiful on the website, and best of all, you, Joe, Tallulah and some of your guests would be able to stay there ahead of the ceremony. Destiny went to look at it as soon as she could find the time, and her report was very positive. “It’s gorgeous” she gushed to you down the phone. “You’d love it. The grounds are lovely too, I think Loolah’d have fun exploring them.” When Joe saw the photos Destiny sent you he agreed it looked practically perfect for your wedding. All that was left was to find a date the venue would be available.

You had a stroke of luck on the date front a few days after you and Joe put yourselves on the waiting list for a booking. A sudden cancellation had left the stately home with a week free in April, just after Easter. The timing couldn’t be better. “Work’ll be quiet, it’ll be a good time for me to have off” you explained to Joe. “And it’d overlap with Loolah’s school holidays too.” Joe was thoughtful for a moment. “I think I’m pretty free in April, actually” he said eventually. “So you wanna take the booking?” “Yeah, let’s do it” he enthused. A couple of days and several emails later the venue. “We’re getting married in April” you marvelled to Joe, after receiving the final confirmation. “Yeah” he replied contentedly. “Three months to plan a whole wedding. Are we nuts?” You really hoped not.

February

February brought cold season to your little family. First Tallulah came home with a sore throat and a fever which kept her away from school for three days, during which time Joe was luckily free to stay home with her. Then you caught her cold, though you managed to escape the worst of it, developing nothing worse than a sniffle. Finally, a week later you woke to find Joe pale and feverish beside you. He didn't wake until you were getting dressed for work. "Darling, are you alright?" you asked him, concerned. "No," he groaned. "My head hurts, my throat is killing me and I've got chills, I think." "Sounds like you've caught our cold then" you commented. "Can you stay home with me babe? Please?" Joe begged. You smiled sadly. "You know I can't, dear. Besides, you have a cold, you're not dying. You’re a grownup, you can survive eight hours on your own." "But baaabe!" he protested. "You sound like Loolah, you know” you grumbled, smiling fondly at Joe despite your exasperation. "But I'll come home as early as I can." "Thanks babe" he mumbled, peering blearily up at you from his spot under the covers. You returned to your morning routine, and Joe was asleep again within minutes.

Joe stayed home for a week. He never got any worse than Tallulah had, but sometimes it seemed that way because he was such a drama queen when he was sick. After two nights of listening to him sniff and cough miserably next to you, you banished yourself to the couch in the hope of finally getting some sleep. It barely worked, and you made sure to tell Joe the next day. "That couch is terrible! If only we had an extra bedroom…" "What, don't you like my apartment?" he grumped. "No, I do, Joe," you reassured him, "it's just… it feels so small sometimes. Like we're all on top of each other all the time, you know?" Joe looked thoughtful. "I actually saw a really nice house for sale the other day. Not too big, little bit of yard at the back… don't know if we can afford it though" he told you. "Well, it can't hurt to take a look" you grinned. Joe smiled back. "Let's go then."

The house turned out to be a nice little townhouse, with four bedrooms, but surprisingly right in your price range. Best of all, it was still on the market, but not for long. One very tense week later it was yours. There was just one small catch. "So, we close on the house in a month" Joe told you, following a phonecall from the real estate agent. "Which means we can't move in until April." "We're getting married in April though, we're going to be super busy and then away for a fortnight" you pointed out. "Yeah, the timing's not the best, is it?" Joe laughed. "I suppose we could move the week before we go…" you suggested. "Yeah, we- oh no, wait, we can't, I'm going to Vegas for my bachelor party that week" Joe told you. "And that means we can't move because…?" you asked. "I'm not leaving you to deal with moving by yourself" Joe replied stoutly. You looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "As much as I want to go all 'independent woman' on you, I actually think you're right. I'll have enough to do that week as it is." "So we'll move after the wedding?" Joe suggested. "Yeah. As soon as we can." Gee, we’re doing a lot this year.

March

Most of your free time in March was taken up with planning of one sort or another. When you weren’t sorting out last minute wedding details, you were busy attempting to organise the move into your new house. On top of finding a removal company you were planning to have some of your stored furniture shipped from England to fill the extra space. But you weren’t convinced it would be enough. “Why did we buy a four-bedroom house?” you questioned Joe, after yet another attempt to work out what you would still need once your things arrived. “We only needed two, and now we’ve got so many rooms and not enough furniture…” “Well I thought we might want to fill those extra bedrooms soon…” Joe said suggestively. “What do you mean, Joe?” you asked, confused. “I mean,” Joe sighed, exasperated at your obliviousness, “I hoped we could try to grow our family?” You thought you knew what he was getting at now, but you wanted to check. “D’you mean… try to have a baby?” “Yes” Joe replied, smiling. His face fell slightly at the sight of your expression. “Do you not want to? Cause we don’t have to, I just thought…hoped-” “Of course I want to have a baby with you Joe,” you reassured him, “just… can we maybe wait til after the wedding? We’ve got enough going on right now as it is.” Joe nodded in agreement. “You know, the honeymoon is after the wedding…” he pointed out suggestively. “It is.” “So, extra fun honeymoon then?” Joe suggested. “Sounds like a plan” you agreed. At that Joe kissed you much more lustily than you were expecting. Should be a very enjoyable honeymoon if he’s going to be like that.  

As the weeks rolled by your focus increasingly shifted to the various parts of the wedding you and Joe still needed to plan. Of course, one of the most important components, at least to you and Joe, turned out to be the first dance. The first challenge was agreeing on the music. You both thought a Queen song seemed appropriate, but which one? "Love Of My Life?" Joe suggested. You looked at him incredulously. "What, it's a classic!" he insisted. "You do realise it's not actually a love song, right?" you asked. He was confused. "What?" "'Love of my life, don't leave me'?" you quoted. "It's a break-up song, Joe. I'm not doing the first dance to a break-up song!" Joe threw his hands up in surrender. "Ok, fine. Do you have any ideas?" You thought about it for a moment. "Um… Queen love songs. They didn't actually write all that many, did they?" Joe looked thoughtful. "Not straightforward happy ones, no" he agreed.

Suddenly his face was alight with inspiration. "We could do it to '39!" he suggested. "I know we both like that song." You were hesitant. "Um, I do like that song, but…" "But what?" He asked indignantly. "That song… it's kind of about me and Roger. Partly at least." you told him. "I just think it would be weird to have that for our first dance." Joe was very confused. "I thought Brian wrote '39?" "He did" you confirmed. "Roger told him about… us… once when they were both drunk, and Brian thinks that might have inspired the chorus. And the whole 'year of 39' bit." Your fiance looked at you blankly. "Roger and I were living 39 years apart at that point" you explained. "Oh." Joe sighed. "I guess that song would be kind of weird then" he conceded. “Actually, maybe a Queen song for the first dance was a bad idea” he pondered.  “Yeah” you agreed. “Maybe we should just stick with one of the classics.” “The classics?” Joe questioned. “Yeah, you know, Frank Sinatra or At Last or something.” “Or ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’?” Joe suggested. “Slow dance and fast bits, we could have some fun with it.” “That’s perfect!” You agreed. So much for Queen for the first dance.

April

The arrival of April Fool’s Day signalled your wedding day was almost upon you. Everything important was booked or ordered, which meant you were now faced with sorting out all the little things you’d put off organising initially, knowing they could be dealt with at the last minute. Number one on the list was sorting out who would be looking after Tallulah when she wasn’t fulfilling her flower girl duties. “Isn’t Roger looking after her after the ceremony’s over?” Joe asked, when you tried to explain your dilemma. “He’s going to be at the reception, Joe” you pointed out. “Along with basically my whole family. And I can’t ask Destiny because she’s maid of honour, and Carla’s her date, so she’ll be there too.” Suddenly Joe understood. “Well I guess she could just come to the reception. Roger could keep an eye on her there. And your parents.” “I suppose…” you sighed. “Actually, Lucy and the other bridesmaids could probably look after her during the day, until Roger can take over at the reception. But then we’re going away at the end, and what if she wants to leave early?” “So what if she does? Roger can take her to his room, right?” Joe reassured you. “You’re right,” you agreed, “he’s her dad, he can deal with it.”

Your other major concern was the potential for the combination of your very ordinary family and several famous people to end very badly. “They were fine meeting me, they’ll be fine at the wedding too” Joe tried to reassure you. “You’re just one person though,” you pointed out, “they’re going to have several people to embarrass themselves in front of this time.” Joe was still unconcerned. “I’m sure they won’t be that bad, babe” “You don’t know my Auntie Marie… ah shit” you trailed off, hit with a sudden realisation. “What about her?” “She’s a mad Eastenders fan, has been for years. Got my cousins into it too, and Steph… Peter Beale was always her favourite” you explained. “I think she might still have a bit of a celebrity crush on Ben.” Joe nearly laughed. “You know he won’t be that bothered” he reassured you. “Even if she spends the whole day practically hanging off him?” “Not if she’s cute” Joe quipped. He rapidly backpedalled at the sight of your expression. “She won’t be able to stick to him all day, he’ll be busy being best man for some of it.” “Thank god for that” you quipped. In the end Joe managed to reassure you Ben was perfectly capable of handling himself around overexcited fans. Even so, you still resolved to ask your mum to remind a few of your relatives to behave themselves before the wedding.

You felt as though you’d hardly blinked before Tallulah’s Easter holidays had arrived, and the three of you were on a plane to London. The plan was to spend a few days there catching up with friends and sorting out the final last-minute details before heading to the wedding venue on Thursday. You had a big dinner party for all your wedding guests planned for Friday night, ahead of the main event on Saturday. On Sunday you were off to Italy with Joe to unwind for a few days before you had to go home. Tallulah was going to spend that time with Roger, and she was very excited.

You tried to get some sleep on the plane, but it was difficult to relax with so many last-minute worries buzzing through your mind. You kept dozing off only to wake up in a panic about something. “The bridesmaids! What if their dresses look bad with mine?” “Babe, it’ll be fine. Lucy picked them, and she’s an expert” Joe soothed drowsily. Lucy had become one of your closest friends since you’d started seeing Joe. She’d adopted you more or less instantly, along with the rest of the Bo Rhap crew, and been your guide in the strange new world in which you’d found yourself as an actor’s girlfriend. But she was also an extremely supportive friend while you wrestled with the realities of a long-distance relationship. She empathised deeply with your struggles, being in a very similar situation with Rami, and had all sorts of advice on how to deal with them. She continued to sympathise as you adjusted to life in a new city, having had similar experiences when moving around for different projects. 

Including Lucy in your bridal party was therefore a no-brainer in your view. Her experience with fashion had proved very useful when you’d enlisted her to help you select bridesmaids’ dresses. The only small issue was that you had never seen the dresses in person, as your entire bridal party lived in the UK. As well as Lucy, and of course Destiny, there was your sister Eliza and Annabelle, an old uni friend who was one of the few people who’d actually stuck around after Tallulah was born. Quite a lot of your friends had made all the right noises while you were pregnant, only to disappear when confronted with the reality of your new situation. In any case, you were now very much looking forward to seeing all your bridesmaids again.

Despite your restlessness the flight passed quickly enough, and before you knew it you were settling into your temporary holiday flat in central London. Your parents insisted on coming to meet you as soon as possible, having not seen you in months, so most of the afternoon was spent lounging around the flat and catching up with them. Your sister had been keeping your mum in the loop about the wedding preparations, so she was full of useful last-minute advice and reassurance. “I’ve seen your sister’s dress, I’m sure all the bridesmaids will look wonderful” she told you, after you’d voiced to her your concerns about the dresses you hadn’t seen in person. “They’ll work beautifully with your dress too, I’m sure.” You weren’t entirely soothed, but you didn’t have the energy to argue by then.

Your worries were proved unfounded at the final fitting the next day. Lucy’s taste was clearly excellent, and everyone looked absolutely beautiful in their light aquamarine gowns. You spent a very enjoyable day getting fitted and hanging out with your bridesmaids, who got on well despite barely knowing each other. Well, they do all get on with me, they must have something in common. Tallulah had fun too, sitting in the fancy bridal shop with some of her favourite adults, and then getting to wear a very pretty dress. “You look so pretty, lovie!” Lucy gushed, when she finally got to see Tallulah in her flowergirl outfit. “Of course she looks pretty Luce,” you smiled, “you chose the dress.” All in all it was a productive day, and you felt much calmer about your imminent wedding at the end of it. 

The days passed in a whirlwind of lunches, coffee dates, and frantic final preparations. You even squeezed in a surprise hen night with your bridal party. But then, quick as a flash, Thursday had arrived and you found yourself on the road to the stately home where the wedding was being held. Joe had insisted on driving, but he wasn’t coping very well with having to drive on the opposite side of the road. “God, this feels so wrong even though I know it’s not.” “Just concentrate” you urged him. “And I’m driving next time, it’ll be a lot less stressful.” Fortunately you made it to the wedding venue without incident, despite a couple of near-misses.

Thursday night was spent having dinner with the entire bridal party, who had never been together before. They would all be staying in the actual stately home with you and Joe for the duration. Joe had picked Ben as his best man, after much agonising. Rami and Gwilym were of course groomsmen too, alongside Joe’s brother. To your immense relief everyone got on well without much effort, and the evening passed surprisingly quickly. You went to bed with the feeling that the countdown was now on, and you were very excited. 

Most of Friday was spent preparing the venue for the events of the next day, setting up a location in the grpunds for the ceremony and arranging flowers and decorations. The evening, though, was set aside for a relaxed pre-wedding party, to give the guests an opportunity to meet each other and see you and Joe before you were swept up in the wedding tomorrow. The guests themselves arrived in dribs and drabs as the day went on. The bridal party were already there, of course, and their various partners had all arrived by lunchtime. Your parents appeared in the early afternoon, and Joe’s mum followed soon after. The day was full of enjoyable reunions, and the night promised even more. 

The party started in the early evening with light finger food and cocktails. There was no formal sit-down meal, because people were coming from all over and would be arriving at various times throughout the night. You and Joe tried to remain in a central position so you could easily greet people as they arrived. Later in the night there were a couple of quick speeches from Joe and Ben, welcoming everyone to your wedding. After the speeches you and Joe took the opportunity to mingle with some of the late arrivals. Among them was Brian, who swept over to introduce you to Anita, who was just as warm and lovely as he was. "I told her the truth about you. And Tallulah. Hope you don't mind" he told you in an undertone. You smiled reassuringly. "Of course not.” Not long after he trotted off to catch up with the rest of the Bo Rhap contingent, currently hanging out in a quiet corner, your parents came up to you, bringing Tallulah with them. "She was asking for you" your mother explained. At almost the same moment Roger came over with Sarina to say hello. Oh lord, here we go.

"Hello, love! Good to see you back on home soil" Roger greeted you, cheerful as ever. "Hi Roger. Sarina, lovely to see you again." Your mother leaned over while Joe greeted them both. "Wait, how do you know him?" she asked. Before you could reply Roger was looking at you curiously. "Roger, these are my parents" you explained, in response to his unspoken question. "Roger Taylor. How do you do?" He smiled cheerfully as he reached over to shake their hands. Something about his expression seemed to catch your mother’s interest, and you could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. "Hold on, are you-?" "Daddy!" Tallulah cried, rushing over to embrace him. "Hello darling" Roger murmured, bobbing down to hug her back. "'Daddy?'" your father repeated incredulously. "Yes," you confirmed, "this is Tallulah's dad. And his wife Sarina" "Wife?" your father echoed. "Yes" Roger replied, straightening up. "You never said he was married" your father muttered darkly. You tensed up at your father’s tone. “He never told me.” "He was- you were married then?" your father spluttered at Roger, clearly angry. He didn't even need to explain what 'then' meant. "Dear, please, don't make a scene" your mother urged quietly. Roger, surprisingly, was unfazed. I suppose it's easy to ignore accusations when you know they're not actually true. "Yes, I was. And yes, I did some things I'm not proud of back then, but becoming Tallulah's father sure as hell isn't one of them" he declared stoutly. Your father seemed to accept this, but was still unwilling to back down. "Still can't believe you had the nerve to show your face here" he said unpleasantly. Joe had been hanging back, unwilling to get involved, but at this he felt he had to intervene. "If you must know," he explained tensely, "I insisted we invite Roger. Your daughter and I wouldn't be here without him, and besides, he's a friend." Your parents gawped at him but said nothing. "I know it's an unusual situation" Joe pressed on, "but we've all managed to get along despite the circumstances, so the least you can do is respect that. And respect Roger too, he's a good man." Your father was evidently flabbergasted at Joe's outburst, to the point that he was apparently unable to form a response. Your mother seized the opportunity to steer him away from you towards some nearby relatives, having apparently decided the conversation had gone far enough. 

"Was that too much?" Joe whispered when they were safely out of earshot. "No," you reassured him, "he just needs some time to cool off. He'll be okay." You were suddenly acutely aware of Roger looking at you with concern, while chatting with Tallulah. "You alright?" you asked casually. He grinned. "Yeah. 'S not the first time I've had to deal with an angry dad. Been a few years though…" There was a thoughtful pause. "What exactly is his problem, by the way?" Roger asked lightly. "He thought I ruined my life when I got pregnant by someone who didn't stick around" you explained. Roger looked downcast. "Oh. I see" he muttered. "You know, it kills me a bit that you had to raise her alone for so long" he said suddenly, quietly enough that no-one would overhear. "I wasn't alone, Rog" you reassured him. He still looked downcast. “I know, but still…” “It wasn’t your fault you weren’t there, I don’t blame you for it, so stop beating yourself up about it” you told him. “I made my choice expecting I’d never see you again, I knew what I was signing up for.” Roger stared at you curiously. “Well, I thought I did, anyway” you clarified. Roger grinned at that, but it disappeared quickly. “D’you ever wish-” he started to ask, but you cut him off. “Things had been different? Of course. I’m pretty happy with how they’ve turned out, though. Thanks to you.” Roger was confused. “Thanks to me?” “Technically, you introduced me to Joe” you pointed out. He grinned broadly at that.

Suddenly you realised Joe had disappeared. Before you could do anything, though, Ben appeared at your shoulder. "Y/N" he said quietly, making you jump. “Ben! What’s up?” The blond looked uncharacteristically serious. “It’s Joe,” he told you, “he’s… he needs you, I think.” “Well where is he?” You asked, suddenly concerned. “Come with me” Ben murmured, leading you away from the party. He took you down a corridor to a quiet storeroom, away from the noise and movement. “What’s he doing in here?” You asked, whispering urgently. “He’s… upset, I guess” Ben replied. “But he’ll be able to explain it better. Just go in, please.” A worrying thought struck you. “We’re the guests of honour, won’t people notice we’ve both gone?” Ben shrugged. “Even if they do they’ll just think you’re shagging or something.” “Ben!” you chided him, scandalised. “Relax, I’ll cover for you if anyone does notice” he reassured you. “Thanks” you muttered, turning away to face the storeroom properly.

You cautiously pushed the door open. “Joe? Are you alright?” Your soon-to-be husband looked up, startled. His eyes were red-rimmed and full of tears. “How did you-?” “Ben told me” you explained, cutting off his question. “But darling, what’s wrong?” You asked him tenderly, sitting down next to him. “After I saw you with your dad, before, it just… it suddenly hit me, really hard.” “What hit you?” You prompted, wrapping your arms around him. “My dad’s not here. I’m getting married and he won’t be there. He should be here, meeting your parents, defending you to your own father like I did, but he’s not” Joe explained sadly. “And I feel like I should be super happy right now, and I am, but I’m really sad too.” “Oh, darling, you’re allowed to feel however you want” you comforted him. You held him quietly for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me you were upset?” You asked quietly. “It came on really suddenly, like out of nowhere… and you looked so happy back there, I didn’t want to bring you down” Joe admitted. “Joe, darling, I don’t mind. We’re nearly married, that means it’s my job to help you when you feel like this” you reassured him. “Thanks wifey” he said, looking slightly happier. You kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Any time, babe.” You paused, sitting in silence for a while. “Are you ok now, or do you still need a minute?” You eventually asked, sensing your husband-to-be was starting to feel better. Joe looked thoughtful for a moment. “I’ll need a little bit longer, I think.” You sat together in silence for a moment. Suddenly Joe turned his head and kissed you. “I love you so much” he murmured as you broke apart. “Love you too” you replied automatically. “You can go now, if you want” Joe announced. “I’ll be out soon.” But as you reached the door he stopped you. “Actually, can you get Ben to come in here?” He asked calmly. “Ben?” You questioned, surprised. “Just…please?” Joe’s expression spoke such volumes you suddenly didn’t need to know any more. “Of course, dear.” You paused just before you left the room. “I’m sending Ben into a private space with you, should I be worried?” you quipped. Joe laughed at that, and you finally relaxed, knowing for sure he would be ok now. 

The rest of the party rolled on without incident, and you went to bed that night with an odd mixture of contentment and nerves bubbling in your head. The next morning you woke relaxed and refreshed, and most unusually, alone. Joe was rather fond of certain wedding traditions, and had insisted on sharing Ben’s room for the night. You thought it was probably for the best, you’d have to get ready separately anyway. Lucy had suggested Tallulah have a sleepover with her and Rami as well, so you could have a break and she could look after your daughter in the morning while you had a bit of a lie in. 

As you got out of bed and started on your morning routine you were hit with a sudden wave of pre-wedding jitters. What if it rained? What if something went wrong? Were you doing this too soon? You’d only been living together for nine months, after all. Your stressful thoughts were interrupted by a knock on your door. “Y/N? You up?” It was Destiny, fulfilling her first job of the day. “Yeah, come in” you called. She took one look at you and rushed over, enveloping you in her arms. “What’s up love?” “I just… I don’t know” you gulped. “I’m having all these doubts all of a sudden. What if this is too soon?” Destiny smiled reassuringly. “You’ve been together for years, this is hardly a whirlwind romance.” “I know, but-” She turned to look you straight in the face. “You love him, don’t you?” You were bewildered at the question. “Of course I do, but-” “And Joe loves you, right?” Destiny pressed on. “Well, yeah, I think s-” You were interrupted by Lucy entering your room, Tallulah in tow. She immediately sent Tallulah off to the bathroom so she could talk to you alone. “What’s going on?” Lucy asked. “Pre-wedding jitters” Destiny explained. “Anyway, you love Joe and he loves you, doesn’t he?” You were oddly uncertain. “I think s-” “He does” Lucy chimed in. “He adores you, Y/N, everyone can see it.” “You see?” Destiny went on. “You love each other, you want to be with each other, and at the end of the day that’s what really matters here.” You sighed. “I know Dess, I just… this’s all happened so quickly, how do I know we’re not moving too fast?” Lucy stepped forward, and Destiny wordlessly let you go so the younger woman could take over. Lucy put her hands on your shoulders and looked into your eyes. “Y/N,” she began firmly, “Joe loves you, he really does. Everyone can see how you make each other happy.” “I know that, but-” “So what if you’ve moved quickly?” She cut you off. “When you know, you know. Joe knows, even if you don’t.” You were confused. “How do you know that?” “Rami” Lucy said simply. “He’s never seen Joe look at anyone the way he looks at you, and you know as well as I do how long they’ve known each other.” You were taken aback. How could you have doubted what you and Joe had? “I suppose when I think about it this does feel right, even if it is a bit quick” you declared. Lucy smiled. “Of course it is lovie. Now come on, let’s get you married.”

In the end, the ceremony went off without a hitch. You looked beautiful, Joe only got slightly teary when he saw you at the end of the aisle, and all the guests agreed it was lovely. Even the previous night’s tension with your father was forgotten as soon as he saw you in your full regalia for the first time. The expression on Joe’s face when he first caught sight of you was so adoring, and so happy, all your doubts vanished instantly when you saw it. By the end of the ceremony you were fairly sure you were both wearing identical joyful smiles. You really were glad to be marrying him. 

The reception went well too. The first dance, which you and Joe had positively slaved over, was performed flawlessly, and earned rapturous applause from your guests. The speeches were all excellent as well. Ben's was probably the most polished, but then, he was an actor. You wanted to thank him during the dancing afterwards, but he seemed to have vanished. Joe was strangely unconcerned by this. "He's probably just gone for a smoke, wifey.” He seemed to have been gone a long time, but before you could consider this further you were distracted by Rami and Lucy coming to congratulate you, accompanied by Tallulah. Somehow, in the midst of all the hugs Joe disappeared off somewhere. You couldn't work out where until Lucy led you to a chair near the front table, closest to the little stage area where the sound system was, and urged you to sit there with Tallulah. You were surprised to see there were microphones and amps and even a drum set up, even though you hadn't booked a band.

Your confusion lasted only until Joe and Ben stepped up to two of the mikes. "What are they doing?" you muttered to Lucy. "Just watch" she told you, grinning. Suddenly you noticed a familiar lanky figure wandering over to the third mike. Joe, in the middle, cleared his throat. "Uh, hi everyone, if I could have your attention for a minute? Relax, I'm not doing another speech. So you might know we three have a bit of a side interest in music, even though we don’t get to play together very much. So I just wanted to take the opportunity tonight to do something special for the two very special ladies in my life. To the extremely talented musicians in the audience, please bear with us. Everyone else, enjoy." With that, he picked up a bass, Ben picked up a tambourine, and Gwilym, down the other end, sat on a bar stool at his mike, acoustic guitar in hand. Ben counted them in, and suddenly Gwilym started picking out the very familiar chords of '39, with Joe on bass and Ben on bass drum and tambourine. Then Joe began to sing directly to you and Tallulah, and you thought you might cry, though Tallulah immediately started to sing along. Gwilym and Ben harmonised nicely on backing vocals too. When the end of the song brought rapturous applause, your new husband and his friend beamed, while Gwilym just smiled modestly. When things died down, Joe spoke up again. "Ladies and gentlemen, Gwilym Lee!" he introduced. "And on drums, Ben Hardy!" After a brief round of applause he grinned cheekily. "You liked that?" he asked the crowd. "Lucky for you, we have one more. It's a bit of an oldie, but a goodie" he explained. Another count in from Ben led to the intro to "Hello Mary Lou." Joe looked distinctly nervous as he started to sing again, but you beamed at him as he sang straight to you. The song finished, your guests applauded, and with a wink and a "That's all folks!" the musicians left the stage, taking their instruments with them.

Moments later the three of them appeared in front of you. You promptly threw your arms around them all. "That was amazing! You're so talented, all of you." Ben blushed. "Oh, well, I'm no Roger…" he faltered. "We had excellent teachers” Gwilym added, looking slightly uncomfortable at the praise. "You what?" you asked, surprised. "Brian and Roger taught us Hello Mary Lou" Joe explained. “We already knew ’39 from the movie, just had to refresh our memories a bit.” "Well you all did wonderfully" you mused. "Anyway, 'Hello Mary Lou'?" "I know how much you like it, and it seemed… appropriate for us" Joe shrugged. "I suppose. You really love ’39 though, don't you?" you commented. "Well it always reminds me of us a bit, you know, lovers separated, longing to be together again, it's kind of the story of our relationship, y'know?" Joe explained. "It kind of is" you agreed.

Suddenly Brian and Roger descended on the trio of groomsmen to congratulate them on the performance. You took advantage of their celebration’s rapid turn into an in-depth conversation about drumming between Ben and Roger and embraced Brian. "Thank you for teaching them" you murmured. "That was wonderful." He smiled. "You're very welcome" he said warmly. "You know, it was a bit strange watching them all up there. Joe looks so much like Deaky when he plays, it’s almost alarming." “You should tell Joe that” you commented. “Oh, he knows” Brian replied airily. You were glad, but you thought Joe was extremely talented in his own right too. 

The laughter and dancing seemed to go on forever, but soon enough, the festivities were over and you and Joe were retreating to the bridal bedroom. Even though it was your wedding night both of you were too tired to do much more than undress each other and cuddle. “I love you, wifey” Joe murmured, as you dozed off wrapped in each other’s arms. “I love you, hubs” you murmured back. You weren’t sure you’d ever been happier in your life.

You spent the following week in something of a post-wedding haze. You spent several happy days honeymooning in Rome, enjoying spring sunshine and Italian food. You revelled in the feeling of being married, and in being responsible only for yourselves for a change. It was an odd sensation after so many years of single parenthood. But all too soon the honeymoon was over, and you had to go home to New York. Back to work, school and responsibilities. But also to your new future, which was looking brighter than ever.

May

You returned home still floating in a blissful honeymoon fog. Joe could only stay home for a week before he would be needed in LA again, but you made the most of it by moving house two days after you got back from England. Your wedding gifts had been shipped to the new house ahead of you, bringing with them a few pleasant surprises. In addition to the gifts left by your guests there were a number of cards sent by people who hadn't been able to attend the wedding. You and Joe made sure to read them all together, occasionally asking each other who the senders were. However, there was one card that mystified you both.

One afternoon you wandered into the kitchen to find Joe at the table bent over a stack of cards. "Babe, do you know a John and Veronica?" he asked as you passed him on your way to the pantry. "No, why?" you replied casually. "There's a card here from 'John and Veronica' and I don't know who they are so I figured they must be people you know…" "Maybe I do" you mused. “Show me.” Joe passed the card over, and you started to read. “Joe and Y/N”, it said, ‘Congratulations on your wedding. May your marriage bring you a lifetime of happiness.’ It was signed ‘John and Veronica,’ but you didn’t recognise the handwriting. “Weird,” you murmured, "'John and Veronica' sounds sort of familiar somehow…" Joe looked at you thoughtfully. "It sounds kinda familiar to me too" he said wonderingly. Suddenly he gasped. "John Deacon… John Deacon's wife's called Veronica… you don't think?" Joe babbled frantically. "Could be" you replied evenly. "But how would he have known we were getting married?" "Luke" Joe responded instantly. "Luke Deacon DM'ed me after I did the engagement post on Instagram, just to say congrats, y'know." "Nice bloke" you commented. "Very nice" Joe agreed. "He must've told his dad, I guess. But then how did he-" "Know where to send the card?" you completed. "Sent it to Roger and Brian, probably."

A quick phonecall to Roger confirmed your suspicions, and lead to some interesting revelations. "He knows the real story about you and Loolah now" Roger confessed. "He recognised you in the engagement photo. And her. At least, he knew immediately she was mine" he explained. "I suppose he would" you mused. "And he wanted… he wishes Joe well, he really does. He just wants to stay as far away from the business as possible, you know" Roger added. "I get that now, so much" you laughed. Joe, listening in, looked as though he might cry. He understood exactly what Roger meant, and it made him so very glad to hear it.

All too soon, Joe had to go back to work in LA, again. He was gone for three weeks, until mid-May. By the time he came home a hint of summer was starting to creep into the city air. Annoyingly, though, you were unable to make the most of Joe's eventual return. Lately, you had been so tired all you wanted to do was sleep, even on your days off. You'd been feeling like this for a week by the time Joe came home. The next morning you woke up feeling extremely nauseous. You tried to get up without waking Joe, but the movement made things so much worse you had to jump up and sprint for the toilet. Thank god we have an en-suite now. "Babe?" Joe groaned from the bed. "What's up?" You didn't want to open your mouth to respond. While you were curled over the bowl you heard footsteps. You were suddenly aware of Joe standing behind you. "Oh, honey" he murmured sympathetically, leaning down to rub your back in soothing circles. 

When you finally stopped heaving you looked up to see Joe studying you with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Are you sick, babe? You seemed fine last night…" "I was" you told him crossly. "Or at least, I wasn't feeling like this. I have been really tired though" you explained, thoughtfully. "Maybe you've caught something from Loolah?" Joe suggested. She was always passing things on from school. "Maybe" you echoed, unsure. "She hasn't been sick lately though." You hauled yourself upright and went to brush your teeth. "I've probably just eaten something dodgy" you assured your husband. "If you say so" he replied, sounding unconvinced. "You don't believe me?" you asked him. Joe stood behind you at the sink while you brushed, looking uncertain. "I do, it's just… well… we were, ah, trying all honeymoon, maybe it worked?" he said, rather suggestively. "I doubt it" you told him, "It’s only the first month. Besides, I'm about to get m-" Wait, what's the date? You were abruptly silenced by a sudden realisation. "What?" he asked frantically. "My period. It's two weeks late. How did I not notice that?" He smiled. "So you think-?" You nodded. "I really could be. I think I'd better go to the pharmacy today..."

Joe had to go to work that day, but by some weird stroke of luck, you had a day off. You ran out to the pharmacy that very morning and bought two tests, rushing home to do them as soon as you could. The results were clear as day. Positive. Both of them. Oh my god, it actually worked. I’m really pregnant. I have to do something cute to tell Joe. You immediately started to develop a plan for your very special announcement. I’m so happy. God, he’s going to be so excited. He’s going to be the best dad too.

Joe arrived home that afternoon to the usual enthusiastic welcome from Tallulah. When you finally managed to persuade Tallulah to let him go, you sent her off to watch cartoons while you took Joe upstairs to freshen up. "So did you get to the drugstore today?" he asked quietly. "I did" you replied, trying to sound casual. "And?" he questioned, as you reached your shared bedroom.  “I, um, I also got you a present today” you told him, pointing at a white box sitting on your shared bed. “Ookay?” Joe looked at you, confused, as he sat down and opened the box. He pulled out the tiniest Yankees shirt you’d been able to find. “This is so cute!” Joe exclaimed. “But why'd y-? Wait." He stared at the shirt intently. Suddenly he looked at you, thunderstruck. "No. Way" he breathed. "Holy shit. The honeymoon worked?" he asked excitedly, breaking into a huge grin. You nodded, wordlessly showing him the tests you'd hidden in the bedside drawer. Joe’s face lit up, as he broke into happy tears. "Oh my god. You’re actually pregnant?” he asked wonderingly. "Yes, Joe, I’m really pregnant” you echoed, tearing up yourself despite your joyful smile. “We're going to have a baby, darling.” “Oh my god. Oh my god. I’m gonna be a dad!” he exclaimed, pulling you in for a bear hug and kissing you deeply through the tears.

“I’m so excited babe, I want to tell everyone” he gushed as he held you. You pulled back to look at him. “Joe, darling, I literally just peed on the sticks this morning, I haven’t even been to the doctor yet. We can’t tell anyone for now, ok?” Joe looked at your serious face and nodded, disappointed. “Ok” he agreed. You paused. “Actually, we’ll need to be careful when we go back down, even Loolah doesn’t know.” “Crap” Joe cursed. “I even have to keep this from your child who lives with us? I know I’m not the expert, but that seems like a bad idea even to me” he said. “It’s only for a few weeks” you reassured him. He sighed. “I know babe, it’s just, I’m so excited, I don’t know if I can keep it in for that long.” “Well you’ll just have to try” you replied quietly. You held each other wordlessly for a moment. “I love you, did I tell you that?” Joe murmured, finally breaking the silence. “Both of you” he added, smiling broadly. “We love you too” you replied dreamily. You didn’t think you’d ever been happier than you were at that moment.

June

By the time you managed to find a doctor and get an appointment a few weeks had passed, and you were already 9 weeks along. In the meantime you had at least managed to get your pregnancy officially confirmed by a blood test at a walk-in clinic. You were still holding off on telling people about it, but it was getting difficult to hide the fact that something was happening to you. You were constantly nauseous, and it was a battle to get through a whole day of work without a spontaneous nap. I swear it wasn’t this bad last time. I suppose I was a lot younger then. This time seems so different though. Joe had managed to keep his promise so far, even with Tallulah, but you weren’t convinced he could go much longer without exploding. In any case, he was very excited about your first appointment. He made sure he was free to go with you on your afternoon off, while Tallulah was at school.

Doctor Baker was a slightly older woman with a calm, pleasant manner and a sterling reputation. You sat quietly in front of her as she checked over your paperwork. “Ok, well, that all looks good. So, just to confirm, is this your first child?” She asked pleasantly. You and Joe looked at each other. “Uh…” he muttered.“It’s my second, but it’s his first” you explained, pointing to him. “Ok, and how old’s your first?” The doctor inquired. “She’s seven” you and Joe replied simultaneously. Doctor Baker smiled kindly. “Well, as it’s been a few years you might find things are a bit different this time around, but that’s totally normal” she told you. “Now, let’s have a look at what’s going on in there.”

You moved over to the bed in her office while she bustled around preparing the ultrasound machine. Joe sat next to you, nervously holding your hand while the doctor put the gel on your stomach and turned the machine on. “Ok, let’s see” the doctor murmured, moving the ultrasound wand around experimentally. “Ah! Here we go” she said suddenly, as the room was filled with the familiar sound of a tiny heart beating. But that doesn’t sound like I remember. “You hear that?” You nodded quietly. “That’s two heartbeats. Two strong heartbeats” the doctor informed you. What?! "There's… what?! Joe cried, his mouth opening in shock. “Two? There’s two of them?” You asked Doctor Baker, equally stunned. “Yes,” she smiled, “two healthy babies. Congratulations.” You and Joe turned to look at each other simultaneously. “Twins!” You both exclaimed. “Oh my god, twins!” Joe gushed, overjoyed. You were both tearing up at the news. “Here, have a look” Doctor Baker said quietly, moving the wand so you could see both babies. “Wow” Joe breathed. “Yeah” you agreed. You made sure to get printouts of a few images from the ultrasound. You wanted to remember this moment forever.

Joe was bursting with excitement when you left the doctor’s office. “Oh my god, babe, we’re having twins!” “I know Joe, I was there” you quipped, exasperated. “I know babe, it’s just, I can’t believe this is actually happening” he explained. “Oh, it’s really happening” you quipped, smiling. Getting home brought another challenge. “Look, I know we’re not telling people yet, but I swear to God if I don’t tell someone soon I’m going to explode” Joe told you later that day. You were still reluctant to tell anybody until you were further along, but you decided to compromise. “We could tell my parents later if you want” you suggested. Joe enthusiastically agreed, so later that afternoon you FaceTimed them while holding one of your ultrasound photos. Your mum gasped when she saw what it was, and you were pretty sure she squealed when you told her you were actually having twins. Your dad was pretty happy too, the semi-argument before your wedding now long forgotten. Joe was very pleased it wasn’t a complete secret any more, and to your immense relief he managed to keep calm once Tallulah got home. You were very excited too, but you knew it was best to wait just a bit longer before telling her. Just a few weeks, and then we can tell everybody.              

July

The arrival of July heralded the beginning of Tallulah's summer holidays. This also meant a visit from Roger, who was taking her to his house in LA for a few weeks, although he was going to enjoy a couple of days with her in New York first. The final day before their departure, which Roger spent showing Tallulah around some of the New York sights, very conveniently coincided with your next visit to Doctor Baker. It was a glorious summer’s day, and you took a minute to enjoy the weather with Joe after your appointment. Both babies had received a clean bill of health, so you were in a buoyant mood as you lounged on a park bench together, basking in the sunshine. “Please tell me we can tell Tallulah now,” Joe pleaded, “keeping this secret is absolutely killing me.” “We’ll tell her tonight” you reassured him. “Oh, wait, Roger’s coming for dinner” you realised, thinking out loud. “So?” Joe responded. “We’re gonna have to tell him at some point, might as well get it over with.” “True” you murmured. “So, we’ll tell them tonight?” he asked. “Yeah.” “And then we can tell the world” Joe added. “And then the world” you echoed, smiling contentedly. It was going to be a good summer.

That night, before dinner, you presented Tallulah with a t-shirt that said ‘World’s Best Big Sister’ on the front. Roger saw it and immediately glanced at you with a knowing smile, but said nothing. Tallulah stared at the shirt in confusion, until suddenly her face lit up when she realised what it meant. “I’m gonna be a big sister?!” She cried, beaming with excitement. You smiled at her obvious joy. “Yes, darling.” “So does that mean… there’s a baby in your tummy, Mummy?” She asked, a little uncertainly. “Actually, Loolah,” Joe cut in, sitting down beside her at the dining table, “there’s two babies in Mommy’s tummy.” “Twins?” Tallulah squealed happily. “Yeah, twins” Joe confirmed, pulling some ultrasound pictures out of his pocket. “Have a look, sweetie.”

Tallulah chattered excitedly all through dinner, clearly delighted at the prospect of two younger siblings. It sounded like she’d had a nice day out with Roger too. Finally dinner was finished, Joe was cleaning up and Roger was putting Tallulah to bed, giving you a rare moment to sink onto the couch and enjoy some peace and quiet. Joe soon returned from the kitchen to sit next to you, holding you close. "You feeling ok?" he asked softly. "Just tired" you reassured him. You cuddled quietly together, chatting lazily about nothing in particular, until Roger reappeared. "Loolah's finally asleep" he told you, settling himself into an armchair next to the couch. "She seems happy, she had lots of questions." "Which you'll have to answer for the next three weeks" you quipped, grinning evilly. "True" Roger commented thoughtfully. "Now, as I haven't said it yet, congratulations, both of you" he added, smiling warmly. "Thanks, man" Joe replied, looking pleased at Roger's obvious joy. "Twins!" Roger mused. "That's… really great, actually. I'm so pleased things have worked out for you two." You and Joe both smiled at that.

“So when are you due?” Roger asked pleasantly. “January” you replied. “Which I guess means I’ll be too pregnant to take Loolah home for Christmas like I was planning.” Joe looked surprised. “You’re already planning Christmas in July?” he asked incredulously. “Not really,” you explained, “I just remembered I’d said to Mum that we’d go back to them this year.” “Well maybe your parents’ll just have to come over here instead” Roger suggested. “Perhaps” you mused. “I could come for New Year’s, have a late Christmas with Loolah” he added, thinking out loud. “That could be fun” Joe commented. You suddenly realised your next New Year’s Eve would be very different to previous celebrations. I’m definitely looking forward to it though.

You and Joe waved Tallulah and Roger off the next morning in an extremely good mood. You were determined to make the most of Tallulah’s holiday in LA, given it was likely to be the last time you were kid-free for quite a while. First on the agenda was a long-awaited band reunion. Unusually, Ben and Gwilym were both going to be working in New York at the same time, so it had been decided that a band dinner simply had to be arranged. You and Joe had decided to make an announcement at this dinner, but your plans went slightly awry when Ben dropped in that afternoon. You didn’t want to tell him early, but he saw you dashing for the bathroom at one point and was immediately concerned. “Are you ok Y/N?” he asked you when you came back. “You look a little pale…” “I’m fine, Ben” you assured him. “What’s up?” Joe asked, wandering over to his friend. “I had to run for the loo again” you explained. “Aw, you’re still sick? I thought it was getting better” Joe sympathised. “You’re sick?” Ben asked. “Um, kind of…” you muttered sheepishly. “Kind of? Guys, what’s going on?” Ben demanded, clearly confused. Joe glanced at you, and you nodded slightly, giving him wordless permission. “It's fine, Ben, it’s just morning sickness” he explained. "Oh. Right" Ben replied automatically. Then he processed Joe's comment properly. “Wait, morning sickness? Does that mean you're-?" He looked expectantly at Joe, who nodded silently. Ben beamed in response "Oh my god, that’s so great! Congratulations!” he gushed, pulling you both into a warm bear hug.

Telling the rest of the band was easy. They knew something was up as soon as you turned down the wine they were sharing. You noticed Ben smirking slightly at their confusion as to why before Joe spoke up. “Yeah, Y/N can’t drink for the next six months… cause I knocked her up.” There were a few giggles, which were followed by a shocked silence as everyone realised Joe was serious. “Yeah, and he did a great job” you added. “I’m having twins.” This revelation triggered an explosion of happy noise around the table. “You sneaky buggers, you didn’t tell me it was twins!” Ben cried, grinning at you regardless. Lucy just squealed with happiness. Dinner was interrupted while everyone stood to embrace you and Joe and murmur their congratulations. Rami looked positively overjoyed for his old friend. "Twins. Wow" he muttered to you. "Yeah, we might need your expert advice some time" you commented. "Oh, of course. Anything you need, just let us know" he assured you.

Later on Gwilym wandered over, beaming at you. “Congratulations love, it’s wonderful news.” “Aw, thank you” you replied, smiling. “They’re not going to play baseball are they?” he asked, half-seriously. “I don’t think they’ll get much choice” you sighed, grinning. “But I’m definitely teaching them cricket too, they’re British after all. I suppose we’ll just have to let them choose when they get older.” Gwilym smiled. “How modern of you.” You grinned wolfishly. “They’re both going to be cricket fans though. No children of mine are allowed to leave me to suffer through a whole Test series alone.” Gwilym laughed at that, and you could feel his happiness for you and Joe. You really were amazed at just how happy everyone was for you.

August

August should have been blissful. Tallulah was back from LA and Joe had arranged his schedule so he'd be working in New York until she went back to school. Even then, he didn't have much on, just a bit of press for his new movie and a few meetings. You were planning to enjoy some time as a family of three, a relaxed interlude before school returned and your family grew. But you spent only a week back together before getting a sharp reminder of some of the less-welcome aspects of life as an actor's wife.

It was Sunday morning, which meant Tallulah was watching cartoons while you and Joe unwound in the kitchen with cups of tea. The peace was suddenly shattered by the jangle of Joe’s phone. Joe glanced at the screen and then at you. “Text from Lucy” he told you. “Apparently we’re on TMZ again.” You’d been attracting a bit of paparazzi attention since appearing at the premiere of Joe’s new movie a few weeks ago, and you were starting to wonder whether they suspected something. “What are they saying?” you asked casually. “I don’t know, I haven’t found it yet” Joe grumbled, scrolling rapidly on the ipad resting on the kitchen bench. “Here we go.” He turned the screen around so you could read it.

At the top was the headline ‘Bo Rhap baby on board?’ over a picture of you and Joe walking down the street, in which your bump was clearly visible under your sundress. “Bloody hell, I knew that dress wasn’t covering anything” you cursed. “Does it matter? Everybody knows anyway” Joe pointed out. “Instagram doesn’t.” “I forgot about that” Joe commented. “Maybe it’s time they did?” he suggested. You had been hoping to hold off on a public announcement a little bit longer, but now it seemed like you didn’t have much choice. “I think it is” you agreed. You spent a lot of that Sunday planning out the perfect announcement, and you found yourself surprisingly excited at the prospect of sharing your news with the world.

The next day you had a doctor’s appointment, and you made a point of getting printouts of your latest ultrasound. You all got a clean bill of health too. When you got home Joe took some very nice pictures of you holding the printouts against your now very obvious bump, as well as some of you just cradling the bump. In the end he picked one of the latter shots to post, along with a close-up of the ultrasound photos against your stomach. Underneath them he wrote: ‘Just when I thought this year couldn’t get any bigger, this happened. Our little trio will be a family of five in January. Yep, double trouble is coming for the Mazzello-Y/L/N household next year (swipe for visual evidence). I almost can’t believe how much I love our little aliens already.’ You couldn’t help smiling when you saw the post. “Good?” Joe asked. “Very” you confirmed. “You’re so cute sometimes, you’re such a softie.”

Joe’s post was instantly deluged with happy comments from all and sundry. Even Brian left a nice message: ‘So pleased for you both. These kids will have wonderful parents, and be loved by so many others too. All the best for January! Bri’. “He’s so lovely” Joe commented. “He is” you agreed. “He’s right though.” “What, that everyone’s going to love our kids?” Joe joked. You smiled. “No, silly, the other thing.” This statement seemed to surprise your husband. “You really think I’m going to be a good dad?” “Joe, you already are” you said softly. Joe was confused. “Huh?” “You’re absolutely Tallulah’s parent at this point” you explained. “Not biologically of course, but that’s not what makes a good parent anyway.” “You think I’m a good parent?” Joe questioned, blown away by your statement. “Of course darling, do you think I would have moved across the pond for you if I didn’t?” You were joking, but only partly. Joe smiled anyway.

Joe ended up needing to fly to LA in the last week of Tallulah’s summer holidays. He was extremely put out that all his careful planning had still lead to him being away over the summer, but you assured him you could survive the last few days before school on your own. Tallulah spent two of them on a sleepover, and you took the last Friday off so you could have a long weekend with her as an end-of-summer treat. You spent most of the day doing back-to-school shopping, even though you wanted nothing more than to lounge on the couch all day. You were able to do that on Saturday, while Joe was helping Tallulah pick out her first day of school outfit via FaceTime. Joe insisted on taking on that particular parent duty, even while he was on the other side of the country. “You wouldn’t understand the importance of this,” he told you. “You always wore a uniform.” You just shrugged; you didn’t have the energy to argue. You weren’t that bothered, truth be told. You were glad to see Joe making the effort to spend some one-on-one time with Tallulah while he still could, even if it was over FaceTime. Oddly, watching them made you miss Joe more, but you knew he’d be home soon enough.

September

Joe had to stay in LA until mid-September. He was quite disappointed about missing Tallulah’s first day back at school, though she didn’t seem to mind much. She was too busy reuniting with all her friends and getting to know her new class. You were glad she was happy to be back at school, and there were a few parents you were pleased to see again too. Many of them had already heard about your impending new arrivals, and those that hadn’t were made aware by your now very obvious bump. In any case they all seemed quite happy for you, which made for a very positive first day of school on all fronts.

You went to a doctor’s appointment by yourself while Joe was away. You didn’t mind particularly, but it felt a bit odd given he’d been so involved up to that point. Doctor Baker seemed surprised to see you alone. “No Joe?” she asked casually. “He’s away” you explained. “Working in LA.” The doctor nodded in understanding. “Of course.” There was a pause while you prepared yourself for the examination. “When you’re ready we’re going to do an ultrasound” Doctor Baker explained. “We should be able to find out the genders today, if you want.” I totally forgot I was getting to that point. Do I want to know though? You hesitated to respond. Wait, does Joe want to know? He should be here when we find out. If we find out. “I think I’d prefer not to know for now” you finally told her. “We can always find out later if we decide we want to know, right?” The doctor nodded. “Absolutely. You’ll have plenty more ultrasounds after this one.” Something to look forward to, then.

Joe was pleased when you told him you hadn’t found out yet. “I definitely want to be there when we find out what we’re having” he told you, when you were FaceTiming that night. “So you want to know, then?” “Yeah” he confirmed. “Don’t you?” You shrugged. “I’m not fussed. I never found out with Loolah, and-” “You weren’t desperate to know?” Joe was shocked. “I didn’t really care what I had, it made no difference to me” you explained. “Plus I didn’t want to freak Roger out, finding out before the birth wasn’t an option in his day.” Joe grinned. “Well it is now, and I don’t want to wait four more months to find out.” You smiled contentedly. “We’ll find out when you get back then.”

Finally the day of Joe’s temporary homecoming arrived. He would have to leave again in only a fortnight, but you were very glad to be getting him back in the meantime. Joe's eyes bugged out when he saw how much you'd grown since he'd been away. "Has it really only been three weeks?!" "Growth spurt" you shrugged. "Or maybe you just didn’t notice how big I was when you left. Anyway, welcome home." You smiled, leaning in for a quick, chaste kiss before Tallulah came barrelling down the hallway to greet Joe. You decided to leave them to it, and shuffled off back to the couch. You could hear Joe clumping around for a while, chatting with Tallulah and putting his things away. Suddenly it went quiet, and then you saw your husband flop down next to you. "Hi honey. I missed you" he told you, leaning over and giving you a deep, hungry kiss. "I missed you too" you murmured, as you broke apart. Joe put his hands on your bump, leaning down to kiss it. "And I missed- what was that?" he asked frantically, eyes wide with shock at what he'd just felt. "I think that was a kick" you told him, smiling. "Keep talking." "What?" Joe asked, confused. "They seem to like your voice" you explained. "Oh. Ok. Well, um, this job kinda sucks and I don't like the director at all. I mean-" Joe stopped abruptly, staring at you with a mixture of joy and shock. "They both kicked" he murmured, looking slightly teary. "Suddenly this all feels a lot more real." "Oh it's plenty real, darling" you told him, smiling broadly. “Yeah but… they’re really real. I have actual living kids in there” Joe marvelled. “I’m actually going to be a dad.” He was practically crying at that. “It’s going to be great Joe. You’re going to be great” you assured him.

Joe’s hands barely left your bump for days. He was determined not to miss anything while he was home, no matter how small. He was particularly excited about attending your next appointment now that you were going to find out the genders of your babies. Your twins weren’t identical, so both babies would need to be checked. You and Joe were both rather antsy as the ultrasound got underway. “Ok, we’re almost there” Doctor Baker told you, smiling at your obvious excitement. She peered at the screen for a minute. “So this one is Baby A, and it’s a boy.” You turned to Joe. “A boy!” he beamed, slightly glossy eyed. Your moment was broken by Doctor Baker clearing her throat. You turned your attention back to her. “I’ve found Baby B now, and it looks like…” You felt a flutter in your belly as you saw the baby turn away from you on the screen. “Well they’re not cooperating now,” the doctor went on, “but from what I saw before it looked like a boy too.” You and Joe were quiet as you digested the news. Two boys. Bloody hell. Your reverie was broken by Doctor Baker’s voice. “I feel I should warn you, with the ultrasound we can’t guarantee what we tell you is right, but I’m pretty confident about Baby A being a boy.” “You’re not confident about Baby B?” Joe asked her. “Not entirely, I didn’t get a very good look before they decided to hide.” “It’s fine” you assured her, wanting to get on with the appointment before Joe got worked up. Whatever happened, you’d deal with it when the time came.    

October

Joe spent quite a lot of October flying back and forth between work in LA and your home in New York. His shooting schedule turned out to involve a lot of three day breaks, just long enough for a quick visit home. You would have quite liked to spend most of them relaxing together, but Joe was determined to do as much baby preparation as possible while he was home, to save you the effort. He was thrilled to be having twin boys, and had dived into nursery set-up with gusto. He was determined to get the big things like the cribs sorted out nice and early, just in case. “You’re having twins, they’re likely to come early” he reminded you after you told him for the umpteenth time to relax. “They’re not due for months, Joe. Besides, the doctor said everything’s on track for January.” Your husband wouldn’t be persuaded. “Things can change very quickly. You never know when something might happen.” You stopped arguing the point when you realised he was never going to change his mind, and eventually Joe admitted he was doing it because he felt guilty about leaving you alone at home so much.

You weren’t actually alone very often though. There was Tallulah, of course, and plenty of your friends and family were dropping in regularly to check up on you (you suspected Joe might have told them how he worried about you). Joe’s mother was a frequent visitor, spurred by the desire to both help you and reassure her son. One afternoon you were sat with her drinking tea, not long after Joe had FaceTimed you. “So how was the daddy-to-be?” she asked. You smiled. “Same as usual. Annoyed he’s not here, missing us desperately.” Joe’s mother smiled affectionately. “Didn’t want to talk about work then.” “He never does” you told her. Suddenly Tallulah trotted up to the couch. “Did you say Daddy?” she asked eagerly. “We were talking about Joe, darling” you explained. Tallulah was confused. “But he’s not Daddy.” “He’s not” you agreed. “But he’s their daddy.” You patted your swollen belly, indicated Tallulah’s unborn siblings. “Oh.” Tallulah looked thoughtful; you wondered whether she understood. “Does that mean I have to call Joe Daddy when the babies come?” she finally asked. You smiled reassuringly. “Not if you don’t want to. But other people might” you explained. “Oh. Ok.” Tallulah looked unhappy at this development. “Could I make a suggestion?” Joe’s mum asked gently. “Loolah, do you remember how I told you Joe’s half-Italian?” Tallulah nodded. “Well the Italian word for daddy is ‘papa’. Maybe you could call him that instead?” “Papa…” Tallulah pronounced the word experimentally, testing how it sounded. Suddenly she smiled. “I like it!” She wasn’t the only one. Joe beamed when he heard her greet him with a happy “Hi Papa!” on FaceTime. We’re really a family now, aren’t we.

November

Joe had hoped his work schedule would continue to allow him frequent trips to see you, but it was not to be. He had one break before Thanksgiving, for a single day, which he spent alone in LA, desperately wishing he was home. As the weeks rolled on he was increasingly worried about how you were managing on your own. “I’m not on my own, Joe” you assured him down the phone. “Your mum visits twice a week, and Lucy texts me five times a day to check on me.” Lucy was coming to New York to spend Thanksgiving with Rami, and you were already making extensive plans to get together while she was in town. “I know she is, Rami told me” Joe grumbled. “I’m just worried that you’ll be alone with Tallulah and something’ll happen and I won’t be there to help.” His concern for you was evident in the tone of his voice. “Tallulah’s seven, babe, she’s perfectly capable of calling someone if we need help” you pointed out. “I suppose…” Joe sighed. “But what if they come early and I’m not there?” “You’re going to be back a month before they’re due, and even the doctor thinks they’re unlikely to come before Christmas.” Or so you thought.

Joe finally came home for Thanksgiving weekend, and the day after the holiday you had yet another appointment with Doctor Baker. Carrying twins meant you needed frequent checkups to make sure things continued to progress smoothly. This time you got some unexpected, and not entirely welcome, news. “So are you all ready for these guys to arrive?” the doctor asked pleasantly, while you were tidying yourself up after your examination. “Uh, kind of” you and Joe both stuttered. Doctor Baker looked slightly worried. “Well, I don’t want to alarm you, but I think you should be aware that realistically you could go into labour really any time from now on.” You were both shocked. “But isn’t it still too early?” you asked, suddenly scared. “I mean. I’m not due for another seven weeks.” Doctor Baker hurried to reassure you. “That’s true, and at this point it’s early enough that our first move would be to try and stop the labour, but that doesn’t always work.” You and Joe looked at each other with concern, not particularly reassured. “Look, I don’t think you’re going to go into labour tomorrow, and even if you did I would expect your babies to be absolutely fine” the doctor told you calmly. “But I would be prepared for them to arrive some time before Christmas.” “But that’s still three weeks early at least!” you spluttered. “Three weeks early is nearly full term” Doctor Baker said calmly. “And twins are very often born early. Not always, but it’s very common. In any case, I’m only telling you this because I think it would be a good idea if you started to make a plan now for what you want to happen when your babies do come. Just in case, you know. It never hurts to be prepared.” “Of course Doctor. Thanks for the advice” Joe replied, sounding calmer than he looked as you left the doctor’s office.

On your drive home Joe let the façade drop. “They can’t come yet, I’m about to be away for two weeks” he said, seemingly on the verge of panic. “And it’s still so early, what if one of them’s sick?” “They won’t be, Joe, we’re in good hands” you told him, not entirely believing it yourself. “Anyway, we definitely need to make a plan. I don’t want them to come while you’re not here either, but I’d much rather be at least somewhat prepared if they do.” “You’re right” Joe sighed. “When we get home we’ll work something out.”

In the end the plan you came up with mostly involved going to the hospital and ringing Joe as soon as possible so he could get on the next plane home. “What if I don’t get there in time though?” He fretted. “I’ll make sure to record it for you” you reassured him. “But they’re my first kids, I want to be there. I’m supposed to go through it with you!” You wrapped your arms around him in an attempt to comfort him. “I know, darling, I want you with me too. But sometimes life doesn’t give you what you want, and that’s ok.” Joe shook his head. “No it’s not. I don’t want to be that dad who wasn’t even there when his kids were born.” “You could never be that dad, Joe” you reassured him, pulling him close. “If you do end up missing it, it won’t be your fault at all.” Your husband suddenly peered intently at you. “How are you so calm about this?” “Last time I had a baby I had absolutely no way of knowing if the father would be there, and neither did he” you pointed out. “As much as he wanted to be there, neither of us had any control over it. This time we do, and I know you’ll move heaven and earth to get here in time if it comes down to it.” Joe still wasn’t entirely soothed, but he at least had faith you would be alright, whatever happened.

The knowledge that the babies could come at any time made Joe more worried than ever about leaving you alone while he was on the other side of the country. Fortunately, your wonderful friends were more than happy to step in when they were informed of the situation. Lucy was staying in New York until New Year’s, so she organised to visit you every day she could while Joe was away, and she promised to send Rami on the days she couldn’t. She even volunteered to be your hospital buddy if necessary. Ben also happily offered support, though of a slightly different kind.

“Uh, babe, would you be okay with a houseguest while I’m away?” Joe asked you at dinner, the night before he was due to fly back to LA. “Depends who it is” you said casually. “Why?” “Ben’s in town for press next week, and we thought maybe he could stay here, help you with Loolah til I get back.” That would be helpful. “How long’s he here for?” you inquired. “Two weeks, we’re gonna hang out for a couple days when he’s done working” Joe explained. “When’s he get here?” “Monday week” Joe told you. I’d only have to spend a week alone while Joe’s not here. You smiled. “Okay then.” Relief swept over Joe’s face. “Oh good. I feel a lot better about leaving you now I know you won’t be alone” he told you. “In the meantime I’m telling them they’re to stay put until you’re home again” you said firmly.        

December

True to her word, Lucy had visited you nearly every day after Joe returned to LA. The first day after Joe left turned out to be the one day she wasn’t free, so Rami dropped in to check on you instead. He insisted it was no trouble, despite his busy schedule. “I had a day off today, I wasn’t busy” he told you, after you thanked him for making time to see you. “Anyway, I’m always here for you and Joe. Me and Lucy. If you need anything, honestly, just call us, anytime. Even the middle of the night, we won’t mind. Seriously, we’re here to help however we can.” “Thanks, Rami” you murmured, hearing the sincerity in his words.

The first week without Joe passed surprisingly quickly, and before you knew it the day of Ben’s arrival was upon you. You were looking forward to having some adult company, but you were slightly nervous too. You’d never spent any substantial time alone with Ben, and now he was going to be sharing your house for a fortnight. Tallulah, on the other hand, was extremely excited about one of her favourite people coming to stay. So excited, in fact, that she tried to stay home from school to be there when he arrived. You eventually won the battle, but the whole process of getting her to school tired you out so much that you spent a lot of the morning napping on your couch. You awoke to the telltale sound of a car in the driveway, and waddled as fast as you could to the front door, opening it just in time to see a cab disgorge Ben, a large suitcase and two other bags.

Ben smiled when he saw you in the doorway. “Y/N!” he called out happily. “Don’t come out, I can sort myself. Go and sit down, I won’t be long.” You made agreeing noises, realising you wouldn’t be much help with anything in your present state. Besides, you were officially banned from heavy lifting, you wouldn’t even be able to help carry something. Several minutes of shuffling and yelling directions up and down your stairs later, Ben was settled into your guest room. When he came downstairs again he was smiling warmly. “It really is good to see you again, love.” “You too” you agreed. Ben’s eyes went wide when he finally got a good look at you, and your enormous bump. “God, you’re…” He trailed off, looking apologetic. “Go on, say it. It’s fine” you assured him. “Well then, you’re kind of huge. Joe’s told me about the bump, hell he’s even shown me pictures, but seeing the real thing… how do you even get that big and not, like, break?” “With great difficulty” you quipped. You weren’t offended by Ben’s honest reaction, you knew he was just a bit shocked.

Five minutes later you were sat on the couch nursing a cup of tea while Ben made himself a coffee. You were quite grateful to be sitting down as the monsters were suddenly restless. “I’m done here, do you want anything else?” Ben called from the kitchen. “I’m good” you called back. Ben returned to the couch to see you holding your tea rather gingerly while looking uncomfortable. “Are you alr- … what is that?” His eyes widened when he glanced at your bump and realised it was moving. You smiled reassuringly. “They’re just kicking. D’you wanna feel?” Ben grinned eagerly. “Yeah! If that’s ok with you?” “Of course it is. C’mere.” He’s so lovely. Half the planet doesn’t even bother asking before touching the bump. You placed his hand over the spot the babies were kicking at. His jaw dropped at the feeling. “That’s so weird! It must be weirder for you though, feeling that from inside.” You grinned. “It is a bit, but it’s sort of reassuring too, getting to feel that they’re still there, still ok.” Ben smiled. “Well it seems pretty cool to me.” You grinned back. “Oh, it’s very cool.” 

Tallulah was very excited to come home and find Ben waiting for her. “Benny!” She yelled, running over to embrace him. “Loolah!” He cried back. “You’ve grown so much since I saw you, you’re getting so big!” He gushed. “I heard you’re going to be a big sister soon too.” She nodded seriously. “Mommy’s having two babies. That’s why she’s so big.” Ben smiled. “I heard. Now come into the lounge room, I’ve got a present for you.” He smiled at you on the way past. “I’ve got a present for Mummy too.”

Ben had brought your daughter a kid’s cricket set, complete with plastic wickets. “She’s English, she shouldn’t be playing bloody softball” he quipped. “Also Gwilym may have told me I have to save her before she goes native.” You just laughed. For you, Ben had brought over a big jar of marmite and two large packs of Jaffa Cakes. “Joe told me you’d been craving them” he explained. You were surprised. “Joe talks to you guys about pregnancy stuff?” Ben smiled exasperatedly. “Mate, he hardly shuts up about it.” You smiled affectionately. “Not that it’s not cute how excited he is,” Ben said hurriedly, “but he’s barely talked about anything else for months.” Okay, I can see how that could get annoying. Still adorable though. 

Ben slotted surprisingly easily into the routines of your household. He was out working or socialising at various times of the day or night, but when he was home he was an excellent guest. He took Tallulah to and from school as often as possible, knowing leaving the house was fast becoming a big effort for you. He also insisted on doing as much housework as he could, helping you with washing, cooking and cleaning whenever he had time. “Joe’d have my head if he thought I’d left you to do everything in your condition” Ben joked one day, after you’d told him for the umpteenth time you were fine to do light chores. You didn’t particularly mind, if you were really honest, you actually quite liked having an extra adult around.

Joe finally came home in the second week of December. You shared a very long hug in the doorway when he finally made it home. He nearly cried with relief when he saw you. Of course he’d already known that you were ok before he left LA, but he’d spent two weeks worrying about what ifs, not to mention the several interminable hours he spent unable to talk to you on the plane. “If we ever have another I’m staying home the whole time, I never want to deal with that much worry again” he declared later. That night Ben had dinner at home with the three of you. Joe had wanted to go out, but he took one look at your expression when he suggested it and immediately changed his mind. During the meal he took a picture with Ben, which he posted to Instagram with the caption ‘Finally reunited.’ Naturally, his comments exploded in minutes, but he was too focused on catching up with both of you to care. 

You were so looking forward to spending a few days just relaxing with Joe now that he was finally home. But apparently your children had other plans. The very next morning you lurched awake at 5am with a sharp pain in your belly. You didn't think much of it initially, you'd been having all sorts of pains on and off for weeks. Then you realised you were lying in a wet patch. Well shit. "Joe." You tried to shake your husband awake gently. "Joe, wake up." "What?" he groaned, still mostly asleep. "I think my waters broke" you said urgently. He lurched upright. "It's go time? Even though it’s still five weeks early?" he asked, suddenly awake. "Looks like it" you said dryly. Joe leapt out of bed, looking frantic. "Shit. Ok. We need to get the bag, and get dressed, and-" "Joe, calm down. There's no need to rush, we've got plenty of time" you reassured your frantic husband. He immediately stopped babbling. "Well, you're the expert." You smiled. "Help me get dressed?" you requested. "Of course babe." Joe's eyes were soft and loving as he spoke. It took only a few minutes for you both to be ready to leave the house. But you had a couple more things to attend to before you could head to the hospital.

First Joe helped you across the landing to the guest bedroom currently occupied by Ben. He entered quietly with you waddling behind him. "Ben" he whispered urgently, nudging his friend, "Ben, come on." It didn't work, so Joe reached across to hit him gently with a spare pillow. "Ben!" Ben rolled over, groaning, only to snap awake at the sight of the two of you leaning over his bed. "What, what's going on?" he asked, concerned. "The babies are coming" Joe explained. "We have to go to the hospital." "Perfect timing" Ben quipped. "Yeah, if this had happened this time yesterday you’d have been driving me" you joked. "Look, I’m pretty glad this guys held off until now" Joe cut in. "But anyway, I know you're here for work but can you do us a huge favour and watch Tallulah today?" he added, pleading a little with his eyes. Ben smiled. "Of course I can. I think I'm actually free today anyway" the blond man told you both. "Great!" you smiled. "Now brace yourself, she's probably going to come and jump on you after we wake her." "So make sure you're decent under there" Joe added, as he helped you out of the room. Ben just groaned. It was too early in the day for humour. 

You had one more stop before leaving. Tallulah's room. "Loolie?" you said quietly, reaching over from the chair next to her bed. "Mommy?" she replied in surprise, peering at you sleepily. "It's ok darling, I just wanted to tell you the babies are coming today" you reassured her. "Today?" Tallulah echoed. "Yes, darling. Joe's taking me to the hospital in a minute" you told her gently. "Ben's going to stay and look after you, so be good for him, okay?" you instructed. "Yes Mommy" she murmured back. "Ok, big sister, I'll see you later" you said happily, leaning over to hug your daughter. "I love you" you whispered into her wavy blonde hair. "Love you Mommy" she whispered back. You felt oddly emotional as you kissed her goodbye and left the room. Next time I see her she'll be a big sister.  

You managed to stay calm while Joe helped you into the car. But almost as soon as you started moving you burst into tears. "You ok?" Joe asked casually. Your weird moods were nothing exceptional any more. "Mostly" you told him. "It's just hit me as we were leaving that Tallulah's not going to be my only child after today" you explained. "That's a good thing, though, isn't it?" he replied, concerned. "Of course it is" you assured him. "It's just that, it was just me and her for so long, and even after you came along we were so close, and now it's not going to be like that any more" you explained, rather sadly. "Babe, you're not going to lose your bond with Loolah just because you've got other kids to raise" Joe reassured you. "I mean, it's going to be different now, but a good different, right?" "Yeah, good different" you agreed. "Plus, she's so pumped to be a big sister, it's gonna be so cute" he told you, smiling. 

It was fairly quick, in the end. You had wondered whether Doctor Baker would attempt to stop the labour, but she told you the best option at this point was to let it happen. “You’re far enough along that your babies are more or less fully developed, even though they’re not quite full term” she assured you. “They’re very healthy, they’ll be perfectly fine.” She also gave you an injection soon after you arrived at the hospital to help the babies’ lungs develop. I don’t think it’ll have much time to work, but I suppose even a little bit helps.

Joe stayed at your side for almost the entire labour, holding your hand, rubbing your back and doing anything and everything you needed him to. Finally, just before noon, the first baby arrived. "Here he is!" Doctor Baker called out, as his piercing cries filled the room. You were flooded with relief when you heard it. His lungs must be ok then. Joe sniffled as he cut the cord, and then there was a sudden flurry of activity on the other side of the room as various people descended to check the baby over, concerned about the potential consequences of his early birth. The doctor had told you earlier that a team from the NICU would be present to check both babies immediately after delivery, but you couldn’t help worrying at the sight of the crowd around your tiny son. He was only five weeks early, but what if something was wrong? Fortunately, nobody in the room seemed overly concerned so far.

Moments later, calm descended, and a nurse came over to you, carrying your son in a loose blanket. "He’s a bit small, but he’s totally healthy” she told you, smiling. “You want to help keep him warm while we wait for the other baby?" she asked. You shook your head. "Dad gets first go" you told her, smiling. Joe was wide-eyed with wonder as she placed his baby on his exposed chest for skin-to-skin bonding, showing him how to support his son's body correctly. "Hey buddy" he murmured, in a sing-song voice. His overjoyed face when he looked over to you, barely holding back happy tears, was a memory you would treasure forever. "We have a son babe" he marvelled. "I have a son."

You smiled, then suddenly groaned. "I think we're about to have another o-aaargghhh!" "Alright Y/N, time to push again" Doctor Baker said brightly. Well duh. You could have slapped her if she'd been in reach. But then you looked back at Joe, happily cradling your son on his chest, while trying to hold your hand at the same time and looking desperately conflicted, and you suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of calm wash over you. It was strangely grounding as you gathered your remaining strength. Doctor Baker started gently talking you through the process, but your energy was rapidly running out. "Almost there Y/N, one more push now" she instructed you. "I can't do it any more," you cried, "I'm too tired." "You're so close now, just one more push" the doctor encouraged. "I can't" you cried again, shaking your head. Suddenly Joe squeezed your hand. "Babe, look at me" he said, voice low and soft. You turned to see him wearing an expression that was somehow adoring and determined at the same time. "I know you're tired, but you're so so close to the finish line. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, I know you can do this" he told you encouragingly. "Ok" you replied in a small voice. Joe smiled at you adoringly. "Now let's go. I'm right here with you." You gripped his hand tightly as you summoned one final effort. Moments later crying rang out through the room once again.

"Well done Y/N, you did it… oh, and it's a girl!" Doctor Baker announced. "What?!" you and Joe yelled simultaneously. "You said they were boys!" he spluttered, utterly shocked as he leant over to cut the cord again. You were rapidly becoming too exhausted to care much. The doctor was unfazed. "Well, I was wrong" she responded calmly. "Ultrasounds can be tricky to read sometimes, especially with twins. But I made a mistake, and I'm sorry about that." "It's ok" you replied. Joe still looked indignant, but at that moment a nurse came and placed your tiny daughter on your chest. His expression softened immediately, and he quickly broke into happy tears. "One of each" he sniffled, gazing between his newborn children. "We've got one of each now." You just smiled contentedly. "Yeah we do." Joe leaned over to kiss you gently. “You’re amazing honey, you really are. I love you so much.” You smiled contentedly at him “I love you too dear.”

You could have stayed there forever, you thought, just gazing at the two little beings you’d created. They would need to go to NICU soon, but they were breathing well and doing everything they were supposed to, so you were given some time to bond first. You spent the first half hour enjoying first cuddles and skin-to-skin time. You were actually encouraged to go skin-to-skin as much as possible to help the babies regulate their body temperatures. You were hardly complaining though. Joe eventually got out his phone to take some photos of you and the twins. You were very pleased you managed to capture some of him too, especially the heartwarming expression on his face when he did skin-to-skin with both babies at once for the first time. Soon after he took a similar picture of you, which he promptly sent to Ben to announce the birth. “Couldn’t resist, sorry. You just look so happy.” “So do you” you told Joe, grinning. He smiled. “I feel ridiculously happy right now.” Thirty seconds later Joe’s phone buzzed. “Ben says congratulations” he told you. “Oh, and he’s told Tallulah. He wants to know if he can bring her in to meet them yet.” Joe looked at you with concern. “Should we let him? Will they be ok?” he asked nervously. “Joe, they’re basically fine” you reassured him. “I’m sure the doctor would have told us if visitors weren’t allowed.” You smiled. “Tell him to head in. It’ll be nicer for Loolie to see them now anyway, before they go in the incubators.” Three minutes later Ben texted again saying they were on their way, and you and Joe spent a few minutes making yourselves presentable before settling in to wait.

Suddenly a pair of blond heads poked through the door. "Are you ready for a visitor?" Ben asked, smiling gently. "Definitely" Joe smiled. Ben stepped aside to reveal Tallulah, who rushed into the room with a happy cry. Joe stopped her just inside the door. "We need to be quiet and gentle, okay? The babies are delicate, we don't want to hurt them by accident" he explained. "Ok" Tallulah nodded gravely. Joe led her to your bed, where the babies were resting against your chest. "Hello Mommy" she said quietly. "Hi Loolie" you replied. "You're a big sister darling!" you told her happily. "Come and sit next to me so you can see them." "Ok" Tallulah beamed. There was a bit of awkward shuffling while Joe arranged a chair for her. During this interlude you glanced up to see Ben lurking at the door to your room. "You're allowed to come in, you know" you commented. "Oh, I don't want to intrude…" he muttered, slightly embarrassed. "You could never" Joe reassured his friend. Ben smiled at that. "Well, if you're sure…" "Yes" you and Joe insisted simultaneously. "Come on, I'll grab you a seat" Joe added, trotting off immediately.

You turned your attention back to Tallulah, now sat near your head. "Darling, this is your brother Joey" you told her, pointing to the baby on the right. "And this" you added, indicating the other baby, "is your sister. She doesn't have a name yet." Tallulah's face lit up at this news. "I have a brother and a sister? Cool!" You had to smile at how pleased she was. "Wait, she's a girl? I thought they were both boys" Ben chimed in, from his spot facing Tallulah's chair. "Yeah, so did we" Joe quipped. "It was a nice surprise though" he added, voice softening enormously. You smiled quietly to yourself for a brief moment, before Tallulah's voice broke through your reverie. "Can I hold them Mommy?" "Of course" you smiled. "Who do you want to hold first?" 

You had expected Tallulah might be extra pleased to have a sister, but she was equally entranced by both babies, evidently thrilled just to have siblings of her own. She seemed very comfortable holding them too, despite Joe’s nervous hovering and many reminders to “be gentle, they’re delicate.” Clearly she was a natural big sister. Ben, too, looked like a natural with a newborn in his arms, even if he was a little freaked out by just how small your babies were. "He's so little" he cooed, after being handed Joey by Tallulah, who was now gently cuddling her new sister. "Seriously, I don't think I've seen a baby this tiny before, and I've definitely never held one." "You're not nervous are you?" you asked half-seriously. "Little bit" Ben admitted. "I'm worried I'll accidentally hurt him cos he seems so fragile." Joe smiled reassuringly. "You're doing great, man" he told his friend. "They actually are kinda small though, even for newborns. But you’ll be fine, don’t worry about it." You thought both babies did look particularly tiny against Ben's muscly frame, but you said nothing. Joe, though, snapped a very sweet picture of Ben holding your daughter on his phone. “I have to preserve this image for posterity” he told you. Ben took some pictures too, after he handed the babies back to you and Joe. Your favourite was the shot he got of your whole family, gazing adoringly at its newest members. "You look so happy, guys" he commented, showing you the picture afterwards. You and Joe smiled contentedly at him. "We are" you replied. And you were.

You were well enough to be released after three nights in hospital. The twins, however, were required to stay in NICU for a few more days. “It’s mainly for observation” their doctor told you. “They’re doing very well, we just want to be sure there’s no issues before we let them go home.” You were reassured there were no concerns about your babies’ health, but it didn’t make it any easier to be forcibly separated from them, even if it was only when you went home at night.

The many hours spent watching over the twins in NICU proved somewhat useful, as you and Joe were now faced with the unexpected dilemma of choosing a name for your newborn daughter. You’d agreed long ago that your first son would be officially named after Joe, though you’d decided to nickname him Joey to avoid confusion. But discussions about girls’ names hadn’t gone very far before you’d been given the impression you were having twin boys. Since that impression had turned out to be incorrect, you were now facing an uphill battle to agree on a name for your little girl.

"Madison?" Joe suggested. "No. Too American" you responded instantly. “You do realise she is American?” Joe pointed out. You didn’t particularly care. “Only half. Anyway I don’t like the name. Any other ideas?” "Fine” Joe huffed. “Uh, Amy?” You considered it for a moment. “Amy Mazzello. Mhmm, maybe.” “Maybe?” Joe spluttered. “Well what’ve you got then?” “Matilda?” You offered. “I don’t like it” Joe replied. “Way too English. And, Matilda Mazzello?” “Yeah, that doesn’t sound great” you conceded. “Ooh I know! Poet” Joe suggested. You didn’t like it. “God no. We’re not Hollywood hippies, Joe” “You totally are a hippy” he snorted. You quirked your eyebrows. “What makes you say that?” “Uh, you called your first kid Tallulah Rainbow?” he pointed out. “Tallulah is a perfectly respectable name!” You protested. “Besides, the Rainbow part came from her father, not me.” “That… kind of makes sense” Joe conceded. “Still a bit hippy though.” “It’s really not” you grumbled, explaining the significance of the Rainbow Theatre in Tallulah’s life story. “Actually, that’s quite sweet” Joe admitted. Nevertheless, you and Joe were still struggling to find any names you both liked.

In the end, the solution arrived from a rather unexpected source: miss Tallulah Rainbow herself. “Amber” she suggested, when you asked if she had any name ideas to offer her sister. “Amber…” you and Joe considered. “Amber Mazzello…” “I like that” Joe told you. “So do I” you agreed. Joe feigned shock. “We both like it? I don’t believe it!” “Oh shut up” you grumped. “Anyway, do we want to try and find a middle name we can agree on, or just give her one name and be done with it?” “Actually, I was hoping we could slot in a Queen reference somewhere” Joe admitted. “I was thinking maybe her middle name could be Mercury?” “That’s such a cool name” Ben interjected. “It is” you agreed. “So, Amber Mercury Mazzello?” Joe suggested, carefully sounding out the full name for the first time. “Amber Mercury Mazzello” you repeated. “I love it.” 

You felt bad for messing up Ben's plans, but you could also see that having him around was an utter godsend while the twins were still in hospital. Despite supposedly being in town for work, he spent a lot of that week looking after Tallulah and generally being helpful around the house. This had the dual benefit of freeing you and Joe to spend most of your time with the twins, and ensuring Tallulah didn’t feel too left out in all the chaos. Ben did end up having to cancel a couple of interviews, but he didn’t mind too much. “They were group interviews, the rest of the cast still went, it’s fine” he assured you over dinner one night. "Besides, one of them was with Screenstuff, so I’m quite happy to have missed that." “With Marcie?” Joe asked, in a very sympathetic tone. “Yep” Ben replied. “Uhh, Screenstuff?” You asked. “Entertainment website. Marcie’s their main movie reporter and she’s… not the brightest” Joe explained. “Has a really obvious thing for Ben too.” You were confused. “Is… is that a bad thing?” “It is when I’m trying to promote a project and my body is all they ask about” Ben clarified. “Apparently she got all miffed when I didn’t turn up today, said half her questions were for me” he told Joe. Joe whistled. “Bet that went down well.” A sudden thought occurred to you. “You didn’t tell them where you were, did you?” you asked frantically. “Only the other cast members, and they didn’t tell anyone” he assured you. “They just told the reporters I was sick, no one’s going to work it out, don’t worry.” You were very relieved, seeing as no-one outside your immediate circle knew the babies had arrived yet, and you wanted to keep it that way at least until they were out of hospital. 

Finally, the big day arrived. The twins were finally released from hospital after six days in NICU. Joe was a bundle of nervous excitement as he very carefully placed them in their carseats and drove you all home. The excitement seemed to win out for most of the day, until you put both babies down for an afternoon nap. As you sank gratefully onto the couch, you noticed Joe staring into space with a rather stricken expression. “What’s up, love?” “It just hit me a minute ago…” he mumbled. “What just hit you?” You had a hunch about what was bothering him, but you wanted to hear him say it. “I just realised I’m now responsible for two whole human beings for the rest of my life, and I’m freaked out” he told you. “Like, I’m super happy that they’re here and they’re healthy and they’re ours, but…” You smiled gently. “I know you are, dear, I am too.” Joe suddenly looked at you with confusion. “Wait, why aren’t you freaking out right now?” “Been here before,” you said airily, “I’m still a little freaked out, I just knew it was coming.” You paused. “Plus, it’s less scary this time” you added. “It’s not so new and different, and I’ve got you.” Joe smiled at that. “Indeed you do. You’re not slightly terrified by having two though?” You waved a hand. “We’ll manage. There’s two of them, but there’s two of us too.”

Joe was slightly startled the following afternoon when he picked up his phone and realised he hadn’t even looked at Instagram in nearly a week. “It’s so weird” he muttered, scrolling through everything he’d missed. You wondered what he’d seen. “What’s weird?” “It feels like my whole world’s… shifted since I got home, but on Instagram everything seems exactly the same” he explained. “Even my Insta looks like I’ve just been hanging out with Ben all week, but I’ve barely seen him.” “Everyone knows Insta’s mostly not real life” you reassured him. “Yeah,” Joe agreed, “but this is such a huge thing in my life and it’s not there at all.” “Well, if you wanna announce it, feel free. We’ve told all our friends and families now anyway” you pointed out. Joe grinned excitedly. “You’re ready to tell the world about them?” “Absolutely.”

Joe agonised over his baby announcement post. In the end he picked a picture you’d taken of him with the twins dozing on his chest. He posted it with a lengthy caption: ‘So this week I was supposed to be relaxing with Ben… Instead I spent most of it at the hospital since these guys decided to make their entrance last Saturday, five weeks early. Everyone’s healthy, they just needed a bit of time to adjust to life earthside. Anyway, meet my new favourite people: Joseph Francis IV (but we’re calling him Joey) and Amber Mercury (she’s in the dino onesie) Mazzello. Also my wife is amazing and I love her so much more than I can ever express.’ Gwilym very quickly commented ‘So incredibly happy for all of you. Can’t wait to get over and meet these cuties!’ Lucy just posted a line of heart eyes emojis. Later on Brian left a lengthy note. ‘Delighted to hear these two arrived safe and healthy, if a bit ahead of schedule. Hopefully everyone’s adjusting well to their new roles. Huge congratulations and warmest wishes to you all. Bri’. Even Ben eventually chimed in: ‘They’ve stolen my man but they’re so cute I’m not even mad.’    

The next day you got a rude shock, when you realised that despite the lavishly decorated tree in your lounge room you and Joe had entirely forgotten Christmas was nearly upon you. By the time you remembered it was only a week away. “There’s so much to do” you fretted to Joe. “We’ve got to wrap everything and do cards and… shit, two of our kids don’t even have any presents yet.” “They’re a week old, I don’t think they’re gonna care” your husband tried to reassure you. It didn’t help. “But it’s their first Christmas, they’ve got to have something” you insisted. Joe smiled reassuringly. “Well in that case, I’d better go shopping tomorrow” he declared, kissing you gently.

Joe went out alone the next day. But he had a surprise for you. “You were worried about getting everything sorted in time, so I’ve called in reinforcements” he told you as he was leaving. You quirked an eyebrow. “Reinforcements?” “Lucy’s coming over later to help you out” he explained. It wasn’t the solution you’d been expecting, but it turned out to be a good one. With Lucy’s help you made surprisingly quick work of your to-do list, and by the time Joe got home the house was tastefully decorated and there was a small pile neatly wrapped presents under the tree. She even helped Tallulah bake and ice some Christmas biscuits for you all. Her reward was some time spent cooing over your sleepy newborns. “They’re beautiful, lovie!” All in all, everyone ended the day satisfied. 

Christmas Day was fairly peaceful in the end. You enjoyed a relaxing morning opening gifts at home ahead of Christmas dinner with Joe’s family. You and Joe had agreed not to go overboard on presents this year, knowing you’d have a lot of other things going on at Christmastime. But Joe did manage to sneak in a small surprise for you. “From Joey and Amber” he said, handing over one last parcel with a soft smile. You delicately undid the wrapping to uncover a framed copy of the picture Ben had taken of the five of you in hospital the day the twins were born. “Oh, it’s lovely!” you gushed, leaning over to hug Joe. “Thank you.” “Don’t thank me, they got it for you” he replied, grinning. You smiled. “You must have helped though.” “That I did” Joe agreed. “Well thank you for helping them” you told him, leaning in for a chaste kiss. “You’re the best.”

Joe’s family were very excited about meeting the twins, of course, but Tallulah had a lot of fun too, playing with her cousins and generally enjoying all the little treats of the day. You were glad to see her having fun; you’d been worried she might end up feeling a bit left out in all the fuss over her new siblings. She was very disappointed when you had to leave soon after the meal to get the babies home before their bedtime but she seemed happy enough to spend the rest of the evening watching movies and enjoying her presents.

Your family spent Boxing Day largely doing as little as possible. As always everyone was a bit flat after the excitement of Christmas Day. Except for Tallulah, who was very much looking forward to seeing Roger the next day. He arrived in the afternoon, and came to your house almost immediately to take Tallulah out for afternoon tea. You could tell by the way she was beaming when they returned that she had enjoyed the individual attention. Her expression seemed to highlight her resemblance to her father. Roger was slightly startled when he noticed. “Gosh, I’d never realised how much she takes after me.” “She looks more like you every day lately” you told him. “She’s grown up so much since I saw her last” Roger mused. “Well she is a big sister now” you pointed out. He smiled. “Ah yes. How’s she going with that, by the way?” “Very well, actually” you replied. “I was expecting her to be a bit jealous, but so far she just adores the twins. She loves holding them. Even got them Christmas presents.” Roger smiled with pride. “Well that’s good to hear. Hopefully the adoration continues.” You weren’t convinced it would but you still smiled. “Yeah, hopefully.” 

Roger had booked into a hotel, but he still stayed at your house until well past dinnertime every day of his visit. Tallulah was clearly very appreciative of the time with her father, even if she didn’t say it out loud. The days of Roger’s trip sped by, and suddenly it was New Year’s Eve, again. The day held many happy memories for you, but this year was going to be very different. Joe had called off his traditional party, knowing none of you had the energy for a late night. Instead, you were having a sort of open house afternoon to give all your friends an opportunity to meet Joey and Amber at a time that was easy for your family. Adjusting to looking after twin newborns was exhausting enough without trying to find the energy to organise visits every other day. Of course a few of your close friends had dropped in already, but they were a select group amongst your wider acquaintance.

You were amazed at just how many people showed up to meet the twins and have some lunch with you. Even Gwilym made an appearance. “Surprise!” he declared, grinning widely. “I had some time off, and I’ve been dying to see you all, so here I am.” He was amazed when he got his first glimpse of the twins. “Christ, I thought Ben was exaggerating when he told me how tiny they were.” “Would you believe they’ve already grown since Ben saw them?” Joe asked, beaming with pride. To be fair, they did still look ridiculously small in Gwilym’s arms. “They’re not that tiny now, are they?” Joe asked you in an undertone, as you both watched Gwilym enjoying his first cuddles. You smiled reassuringly. “They’re still a bit on the small side. But Gwil is also a bloody tree of a man, he’s making them look even smaller.” Joe laughed at that. 

Gwilym stayed all afternoon, helping here and there and generally enjoying some rare time with Joe. His relaxed mood seemed to have spread throughout your house that day, though the energy lifted considerably when Rami and Lucy finally arrived. Naturally Gwilym was thrilled to see them both, and they spent a long time lounging on your couches catching up. People gradually started to leave as the afternoon wore on, and eventually they were the only guests left other than Roger. Lucy smiled when she noticed this.

“Now that we’re alone, lovies, we’ve got something for you” she declared. Rami gently handed over a bulging gift bag. “Christmas presents. From all of us” he said softly. You started to protest but he waved it away. “Just open them. There’s something for all of you in there.” Indeed there was. The bag held a number of packages, each containing part of a matching set of red baseball shirts, made to look like the D-backs uniform from Undrafted. Yours and Tallulah’s had your surname on the back; the others were labelled Mazzello. Two of these were very small, although closer to toddler than newborn size. Rami looked apologetic. “That was the smallest we could get.” “Rami, they’re perfect” you reassured him. “They really are” Joe chimed in, sounding rather emotional. “Thanks man.” Lucy smiled. “I told him the important thing was that they matched.” You glanced at Joe, wondering why he was so incredibly touched by the gift. “You’re all on my team” he explained, before you could even open your mouth to speak. “You’re my family, even if you don’t all have my name, you’re all mine.” You smiled. “Honey, of course we’re yours. We’re your team.”    

You were still cuddling Joe when Roger suddenly appeared next to you carrying a couple of parcels. “I brought you a little something too” he said sheepishly. “The top one’s from Brian, by the way.” Joe looked surprised. “Brian sent us a baby gift?” Roger smiled. “Of course. That’s what friends do, you know.” Brian had given the twins a stuffed badger and a fluffy hedgehog. “Just a little reminder of their roots” the card said. You and Joe both laughed. “Brian and his hedgehogs. Typical.” Roger’s parcel contained a pair of onesies. One had a photo of John Deacon printed on the front, while the other featured Freddie Mercury. “I heard her middle name and I just couldn’t resist” he said, grinning mischievously. Joe grinned back. “Thanks Roger, they’re perfect.”

Midnight on New Year’s Eve. In years past you’d enjoyed the ritual of sitting up to watch the fireworks, or going out somewhere in search of a New Year’s kiss. This year, though, all you really wanted was to get some sleep. But of course the twins had other ideas. In the end, midnight found you and Joe sat together on the rocking chair, each soothing a baby back to sleep. Joe’s loving gaze suddenly shifted from his children to you. "Thank you" he said softly. "For what?" you asked. "I always wanted a wife, and kids, but before I met you I was starting to wonder if it would ever happen for me" he explained. "And now you've given me both in a single year." "I suppose I have" you mused. "So, thank you. For giving me everything I've dreamed of" Joe said, kissing you gently. "I love you so, so much." You smiled back. "I love you too, babe." You were both quiet as you tenderly set the twins back in their cribs. “It’s been a good year, hasn’t it?” you mused, as you and Joe returned to your bedroom. “It’s gonna be a hard one to top” Joe agreed. “It’s been magnificent.” And the best part was, it was only the beginning.

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A/N 2: This is really the end for these guys now, and I’m a little bit sad about that. I’ve got one Tallulah oneshot I want to finish (there’s lots of Freddie in it, it’s a lot of fun) and then I’m going to take a break from this universe (for now anyway) and work on my ‘possible Freddie Mercury descendant’ story. At this point I’m planning on keeping it as a oneshot, but I’ll see how I go. Hopefully it doesn’t take as long as this one did!

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[angelofberlin2000]

Photo: Emily Denniston/Vulture and photos courtesy of the studios 

Keanu Reeves has been a movie star for more than 30 years, but it seems like only recently that journalists and critics have come to acknowledge the significance of his onscreen achievements. He’s had hits throughout his career, ranging from teen comedies (Bill & Ted’s) to action franchises (The Matrix, John Wick), yet a large part of the press has always treated these successes as bizarre anomalies. And that’s because we as a society have never  been able to understand fully what Reeves does that makes his films so special.

In part, this disconnect is the lingering cultural memory of Reeves as Theodore Logan. No matter if he’s in Speed or Bram Stoker’s Dracula or Something’s Gotta Give, he still possesses the fresh-faced openness that was forever personified by Ted’s favorite expression: “Whoa!” That wide-eyed exclamation has been Reeves’s official trademark ever since, and its eternal adolescent naïveté has kept him from being properly judged on the merits of his work.

Some of that critical reassessment has been provided, quite eloquently, by Vulture’s own Angelica Jade Bastién, who has argued for Reeves’s greatness as an action star and his importance to The Matrix (and 21st-century blockbusters in general). Two of her observations are worth quoting in full, and they both have to do with how he has reshaped big-screen machismo. In 2017, she wrote, “What makes Reeves different from other action stars is this vulnerable, open relationship with the camera — it adds a through-line of loneliness that shapes all his greatest action-movie characters, from naïve hotshots like Johnny Utah to exuberant ‘chosen ones’ like Neo to weathered professionals like John Wick.” In the same piece, Bastién noted: “By and large, Hollywood action heroes revere a troubling brand of American masculinity that leaves no room for displays of authentic emotion. Throughout Reeves’s career, he has shied away from this. His characters are often led into new worlds by women of far greater skill and experience … There is a sincerity he brings to his characters that make them human, even when their prowess makes them seem nearly supernatural.”

In other words, the femininity of his beauty — not to mention his slightly odd cadence when delivering dialogue, as if he’s an alien still learning how Earthlings speak — has made him seem bizarre to audiences who have come to expect their leading men to act and carry themselves in a particular way. Critics have had a difficult time taking him seriously because it was never quite clear if what he was doing — or what was seemingly “missing” from his acting approach — was intentional or a failing.

This is not to say that Reeves hasn’t made mistakes. While putting together this ranking of his every film role, we noticed that there was an alarmingly copious number of duds — either because he chose bad material or the filmmakers didn’t quite know what to do with him. But as we prepare for the release of the third John Wick installment, it’s clear that his many memorable performances weren’t all just flukes. From Dangerous Liaisons to Man of Tai Chi — or River’s Edge to Knock Knock — he’s been on a journey to grow as an actor while not losing that elemental intimacy he has with the viewer. Below, we revisit those performances, from worst to best.

   45. Johnny Mnemonic (1995)

The nadir of the ’90s cyberpunk genre, and a movie so bad, with Reeves so stranded, that it’s actually a bit of a surprise the Wachowskis were able to forget about it and still cast him as Neo. Dumber than a box of rocks, it’s a movie about technology and the internet — based on a William Gibson story! — that seems to have been made by people who had never turned on a computer before. Seriously, watch this shit:

44. The Watcher (2000) This movie exists in many ways because of its stunt casting: James Spader as a dogged detective and Keanu as the serial killer obsessed with him. Wait, shouldn’t those roles be switched? Get it? There would come a time in his career when Keanu could have maybe handled this character, but here, still with his floppy Ted Logan hair, he just looks ridiculous. The hackneyed screenplay does him no favors, either. Disturbingly, Reeves claims that he was forced to do this movie because his assistant forged his signature on a contract. He received the fifth of his seven Razzie nominations for this film. (He has yet to win and hasn’t been nominated in 17 years. In fact, it’s another sign of how lame the Razzies are that he got a “Redeemer” award in 2015, as if he needed to “redeem” anything to those people.)

43. Sweet November (2001) It’s a testament to how cloying and clunky Sweet November is that its two leads (Reeves and Charlize Theron) are, today, the pinnacle of action-movie cool — thanks to the same filmmaker, Atomic Blonde and John Wick’s David Leitch — yet so inert and waxen here. This is a career low point for both actors, preying on their weak spots. Watching it now, you can see there’s an undeniable discomfort on their faces: If being a movie star means doing junk like this, what’s the point? They’d eventually figure it all out.

42. Chain Reaction (1996) As far as premises for thrillers go, this isn’t the worst idea: A team of scientists are wiped out — with their murder pinned on poor Keanu — because they’ve figured out how to transform water into fuel. (Hey, Science, it has been 23 years. Why haven’t you solved this yet?) Sadly, this turns into a by-the-numbers chase flick with Reeves as Richard Kimble, trying to prove his innocence while on the run. He hadn’t quite figured out how to give a project like this much oomph yet, so it just mostly lies around, making you wish you were watching The Fugitive instead.

41. 47 Ronin (2013) In 2013, Reeves made his directorial debut with a Hong Kong–style action film. We’ll get into that one later, because it’s a ton better than this jumbled mess, a mishmash of fantasy and swordplay that mostly just gives viewers a headache. Also: This has to be the worst wig of Keanu’s career, yes?

40. Even Cowgirls Get the Blues (1993)

Gus Van Sant’s famously terrible adaptation of Tom Robbins’s novel never gets the tone even close to right, and all sorts of amazing actors are stranded and flailing around. Reeves gets some of the worst of it: Why cast one of the most famously chill actors on the planet and have him keep hyperventilating?

39. Replicas (2019) In the wake of John Wick’s success, Keanu has had the opportunity to sleepwalk through some lesser sci-fi actioners, and this one is particularly sleepy. The idea of a neuroscientist (Reeves) who tries to clone his family after they die in an accident could have been a Pet Sematary update, but the movie insists on an Evil Corporation plot that we’ve seen a million times before. John Wick has allowed Reeves to cash more random checks than he might have ten years ago. Here’s one of them.

38. Feeling Minnesota (1996) As far as we know, the only movie taken directly from a Soundgarden lyric — unless we’re missing a superhero named “Spoonman” — is this pseudo-romantic comedy that attempts to be cut from the Tarantino cloth but ends up making you think everyone onscreen desperately needs a haircut and a shave. Reeves can tap into that slacker vibe if asked to, but he requires much better material than this.

37. Little Buddha (1994)

To state the obvious, it would not fly today for Keanu Reeves to play Prince Siddhartha, a monk who would become the Buddha. But questions of cultural appropriation aside, you can understand what drew The Last Emperor director Bernardo Bertolucci to cast this supremely placid man as an iconic noble figure. Unfortunately, Little Buddha never rises above a well-meaning, simplistic depiction of the roots of a worldwide religion, and the effects have aged even more poorly. Nonetheless, Reeves is quite accomplished at being very still.

36. Much Ado About Nothing (1993) Quick anecdote: We saw this Kenneth Branagh adaptation of the Bard during its original theatrical run, and when Reeves’s villainous Don John came onscreen and declared, “I am not of many words,” the audience clapped sarcastically. That memory stuck because it encapsulates viewers’ inability in the early ’90s to see him as anything other than a dim SoCal kid. Unfortunately, his performance in Much Ado About Nothing doesn’t do much to prove his haters wrong. As an actor, he simply didn’t have the gravitas yet to pull off this fiendish role, and so this version is more radiant and alive when he’s not onscreen. It is probably just as well his character doesn’t have many words.

35. Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992) GIFs are a cheap way to critique a performance. After all, acting is a complicated, arduous discipline that shouldn’t be reduced to easy laughs drawn from a few seconds of film played on a loop. Then again …

This really does sum up Reeves’s unsubstantial performance as Jonathan Harker, whose new client is definitely up to no good. Bram Stoker’s Dracula is a wonder of old-school special effects and operatic passion — and it is also a movie in which Reeves seems wholly ill at ease, never quite latching onto the story’s macabre period vibe. We suspect if he could revisit this role now, he’d be far more commanding and engaged. But in 1992, he was still too much Ted and not enough anything else. And Reeves knew it: A couple years later, when asked to name his most difficult role to that point, he said, “My failure in Dracula. Totally. Completely. The accent wasn’t that bad, though.” Well …

34. The Neon Demon (2016)

One of the perks of being a superstar is that you can sometimes just phone in an amusing cameo in some bizarro art-house offering. How else to explain Reeves’s appearance in this stylish, empty, increasingly surreal psychological thriller from Drive director Nicolas Winding Refn? He plays Hank, a scumbag motel manager whose main job is to add some local color to this portrait of the cutthroat L.A. fashion scene. If you’ve been waiting to hear Keanu deliver skeezy lines like “Why, did she send you out for tampons, too?!” and “Real Lolita shit … real Lolita shit,” The Neon Demon is the film for you. He’s barely in it, and we wouldn’t blame him if he doesn’t even remember it.

33. The Lake House (2006) Reeves reunites with his Speed co-star for a movie that features a lot fewer out-of-control buses. In The Lake House, Sandra Bullock plays a doctor who owns a lake house with the strangest magical power: She can send and receive letters from the house’s owner from two years prior, a dashing architect (Reeves). This American remake of the South Korean drama Il Mare is romantic goo that’s relatively easy to resist, and its ruminations on fate, love, destiny, and luck are all pretty standard for the genre. As for those hoping to enjoy the actors’ rekindled chemistry, spoiler alert: They’re not onscreen that much together.

32. Henry’s Crime (2011) You have to be careful not to cast Reeves as too passive a character; he’s so naturally calm that if he just sits and reacts to everything, and never steps up, your movie never really gets going. That’s the case in this heist movie about an innocent man (Reeves) who goes to jail for a crime he didn’t commit and then plans a scam with an inmate he meets there (James Caan). The movie wants to be a little quirkier than it is, and Reeves never quite snaps to. The film just idles on the runway.

31. The Bad Batch (2017) Following her acclaimed A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night, filmmaker Ana Lily Amirpour plops us in the middle of a desert hellscape in which a young woman (Suki Waterhouse) must battle to stay alive. The Bad Batch is less accomplished than A Girl, in large part because style outpaces substance — it’s a movie in which clever flourishes and indulgent choices rule all. Look no further than Reeves’s performance as the Dream, a cult leader who oversees the only semblance of civilization in this post-apocalyptic world. It’s less a character than an attitude, and Reeves struggles to make the shtick fly. He’s too goofy a villain for us to really feel the full measure of his monstrousness.

30. Hardball (2001)

Reeves isn’t the first guy you’d think of to head up a Bad News Bears–style inspirational sports movie, and he doesn’t pull it off, playing a gambler who becomes the coach of an inner-city baseball team and learns to love, or something. It’s as straightforward and predictable an underdog sports movie as you’ll find, and it serves as a reminder that Reeves’s specific set of skills can’t be applied to just any old generic leading-man role. The best part about the film? A 14-year-old Michael B. Jordan.

29. Street Kings (2008) Filmmaker David Ayer has made smart, tough L.A. thrillers like Training Day (which he wrote) and End of Watch (which he wrote and directed). Unfortunately, this effort with Reeves never stops being a mélange of cop-drama clichés, casting the actor as Ludlow, an LAPD detective who’s starting to lose his moral compass. This requires Reeves to be a hard-ass, which never feels particularly convincing. Street Kings is bland, forgettable pulp — Reeves doesn’t enliven it, getting buried along with the rest of a fine ensemble that includes Forest Whitaker, Hugh Laurie, and a pre-Captain America Chris Evans.

28. Constantine (2005) In post-Matrix mode, Reeves tries to launch another franchise in a DC Comics adaptation about a man who can see spirits on Earth and is doomed to atone for a suicide attempt by straddling the divide twixt Heaven and Hell. That’s not the worst idea, and at times Constantine looks terrific, but the movie doesn’t have enough wit or charm to play with Reeves’s persona the way the Wachowskis did.

27. The Day the Earth Stood Still (2008) Reeves’s alienlike beauty and off-kilter line readings made him an obvious choice to play Klaatu, an extraterrestrial who assumes human form when he arrives on our planet. This remake of the 1950s sci-fi classic doesn’t have a particularly urgent reason to exist — its pro-environment message is timely but awkwardly fashioned atop an action-blockbuster template — and the actor alone can’t make this Day particularly memorable. Still, there are signs of the confident post-Matrix star he had become, which would be rewarded in a few years with John Wick.

26. Knock Knock (2015) Reeves flirts with Michael Douglas territory in this Eli Roth erotic thriller that’s not especially good but is interesting as an acting exercise. He plays Evan, a contented family man with the house to himself while his wife and kids are out of town. Conveniently, two beautiful young strangers (Ana de Armas, Lorenza Izzo) come by late one stormy night, inviting themselves in and quickly seducing him. Is this his wildest sexual fantasy come to life? Or something far more ominous? It’s fun to watch Reeves be a basic married suburban dude who slowly realizes that he’s entered Hell, but Knock Knock’s knowing trashiness only takes this cautionary tale so far.

25. The Devil’s Advocate (1997)

Very few people bought tickets in 1997 for The Devil’s Advocate to see Keanu Reeves: Hotshot Attorney. Obviously, this horror thriller’s chief appeal was witnessing Al Pacino go over the top as Satan himself, who just so happens to be a New York lawyer. Nonetheless, it’s Reeves’s Kevin Lomax who’s actually the film’s main character; recently moved to Manhattan with his wife (Reeves’s future Sweet November co-star, Charlize Theron), he’s the new hire at a prestigious law firm who only later learns what nefarious motives have brought him there. Reeves is forced to play the wunderkind who gets in over his head, and it’s not entirely convincing — and that goes double for his southern accent.

24. The Prince of Pennsylvania (1988) “You are like some stray dog I never should have fed.” That’s how Rupert’s older hippie pal, Carla (Amy Madigan), affectionately refers to him, and because this teen dropout is played by Keanu Reeves, you understand what she means. In this forgotten early chapter in Reeves’s career, Rupert and Carla decide to ditch their going-nowhere Rust Belt existence by taking his dad (Fred Ward) hostage and collecting a handsome ransom. The Prince of Pennsylvania is a thoroughly contrived and mediocre comedy, featuring Reeves with an incredibly unfortunate haircut. (Squint and he looks like the front man for the Red Hot Chili Peppers.) Still, you can see signs of the soulfulness and vulnerability he’d later harness in better projects. He’s very much a big puppy looking for a home.

23. The Last Time I Committed Suicide (1997) Every hip young ’90s actor had to get his Jack Kerouac on at some point, so it would seem churlish to deny Reeves his opportunity. He plays the best pal/drinking buddy of Thomas Jane’s Neal Cassady, and he looks like he’s enjoying doing the Kerouac pose. Other actors have done so more indulgently. And even though he’s heavier than he’s ever been in a movie, he looks great.

22. A Walk in the Clouds (1995) Keanu isn’t quite as bad in this as it seemed at the time. He’s miscast as a tortured war veteran who finds love by posing as the husband of a pregnant woman, but he doesn’t overdo it either: If someone’s not right for a part, you’d rather them not push it, and Keanu doesn’t. Plus, come on, this movie looks fantastic: Who doesn’t want to hang around these vineyards? Not necessarily worth a rewatch, but not the disaster many consider it.

21. The Replacements (2000) The other movie where Keanu Reeves plays a former quarterback, The Replacements is an adequate Sunday-afternoon-on-cable sports comedy. He plays Shane, the stereotypical next-big-thing whose career capsized after a disastrous bowl game — but fear not, because he’s going to get a second chance at gridiron glory once the pros go on strike and the greedy owners decide to hire scabs to replace them. Reeves has never been particularly great at playing regular guys — his talent is that he seems different, more special, than you or me — but he ably portrays a good man who’s had to live with disappointment. The Replacements pushes all the predictable buttons, but Reeves makes it a little more enjoyable than it would be otherwise.

20. Tune in Tomorrow (1990) A very minor but sporadically charming bauble about a radio soap-opera scriptwriter (Peter Falk) who begins chronicling an affair between a woman (Barbara Hershey) and her not-related-by-blood nephew on his show — and ultimately begins manipulating it. Tune in Tomorrow is light and silly and harmless, and Reeves shows up on time to set and looks extremely eager to impress. He blends into the background quietly, which is probably enough.

19. I Love You to Death (1990)

This Lawrence Kasdan comedy — the first film after an incredible four-picture run of Body Heat, The Big Chill, Silverado, and The Accidental Tourist — is mostly forgotten today, and for good reason: It’s a farce that mostly features actors screaming at each other and calling it “comedy.” But Reeves hits the right notes as a stoned hit man, and it’s amusing just to watch him share the screen with partner William Hurt. This could have been the world’s strangest comedy team!

18. Youngblood (1986)

This Rob Lowe hockey comedy is … well, a Rob Lowe hockey comedy, but we had to include it because a 21-year-old Reeves plays a dim-bulb, good-hearted hockey player with a French Canadian accent that’s so incredible that you really just have to see it. Imagine if this were the only role Keanu Reeves ever had? It’s sort of amazing. “AH-NEE-MAL!”

17. Destination Wedding (2018) An oddly curdled comedy about two wedding guests (Reeves and Winona Ryder) who have terrible attitudes about everything but end up bonding over their universal disdain for the planet and everyone on it. That sounds like a chore to watch, and at times it is, but the pairing of Reeves and Ryder has enough nostalgic Gen-X spark to it that you go along with them anyway. With almost any other actors you might run screaming away, but somehow, in spite of everything, you find them both likable.

16. Thumbsucker (2005)

The first film from 20th Century Women and Beginners’ Mike Mills, this mild but clever coming-of-age comedy adaptation of a Walter Kirn novel has Mills’s trademark good cheer and emotional honesty. Reeves plays the eponymous thumbsucker’s dentist — it’s funny to see Keanu play someone named “Dr. Perry Lyman” — who has the exact right attitude about both orthodontics and life. It’s a lived-in, funny performance, and a sign that Keanu, with the right director, could be a more than capable supporting character actor.

15. Something’s Gotta Give (2003) This Nancy Meyers romantic comedy was well timed in Reeves’s career. A month after the final Matrix film hit theaters, Something’s Gotta Give arrived, offering us a very different Keanu — not the intense, sci-fi action hero but rather a charming, low-key love interest who’s just the supporting player. He plays Julian Mercer, a doctor administering to shameless womanizer Harry Sanborn (Jack Nicholson), who’s dating a much younger woman (Amanda Peet), who just so happens to be the daughter of a celebrated playwright, Erica (Diane Keaton). We know who will eventually end up with whom in Something’s Gotta Give, but Reeves proves to be a great romantic foil, wooing Erica with a grown-up sexiness the actor didn’t possess in his younger years. We’re still not sure Meyers got the ending right: Erica should have stuck with him instead of Harry.

14. Man of Tai Chi (2013) This is the only movie that Reeves has directed, and what does it tell us about him? Well, it tells us he has watched a ton of Hong Kong action movies and always wanted to make one himself. And it’s pretty good! It’s technically proficient, it has a straightforward narrative, it has some excellent long-take action sequences (as we see in John Wick, Keanu isn’t a quick-cut guy; he likes to show his work), and it has a perfectly decent Keanu performance. We wouldn’t call him a visionary director by any stretch of the imagination. But we’d watch another one of these, definitely.

13. Dangerous Liaisons (1988)

Le Chevalier Raphael Danceny is merely a pawn in a cruel game being played by Marquise de Merteuil and Vicomte de Valmont, and so it makes some sense that the young man who played him, Keanu Reeves, is himself a little outclassed by the actors around him. This Oscar-winning drama is led by Glenn Close and John Malkovich, who have the wit and bite to give this 18th-century tale of thwarted love and bruised pride some real zest. By comparison, Danceny is practically a boy, unschooled in the art of manipulation, and Reeves provides the character with the appropriate youthful naïveté. He’s not a standout in Dangerous Liaisons, but he acquits himself well — especially near the end, when his blade fells Valmont, leaving him as one of the unlikely survivors in the film’s ruthless battle.

12. The Private Lives of Pippa Lee (2009) In this incredible showcase for Robin Wright, who plays a woman navigating a constrictive, difficult life with more grace and intelligence than anyone realizes, Reeves shows up late in a role that he’s played before: the younger guy who’s the perfect fit for an older woman figuring herself out. He hits the right notes and never overstays his welcome. As a romantic lead, less is more for Reeves.

11. Parenthood (1989) If you were an uptight suburban dad, like Steve Martin is in Ron Howard’s ensemble comedy, your nightmare would be that your beloved daughter gets involved with a doofus like Tod. Nicely played by Keanu Reeves, the character is the embodiment of every slacker screwup who’s going to just stumble through life, knocking over everything and everyone in his path. But as it turns out, he’s a lot kinder and mature than at first glance. Released six months after Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure, Parenthood showed mainstream audiences a more grown-up Reeves, and he’s enormously appealing — never more so than when advising a young kid that it’s okay to masturbate: “I told him that’s what little dudes do.”

10. Permanent Record (1988) A very lovely and sad movie that’s nearly forgotten today, Permanent Record, directed by novelist Marisa Silver, features Reeves as the best friend of a teenager who commits suicide and, along with the rest of their friends, has to pick up the pieces. For all of Reeves’s trademark reserve, there is very little restraint here: His character is devastated, and Reeves, impressively, hits every note of that grief convincingly. You see this guy and you understand why everyone wanted to make him a star. This is a very different Reeves from now, but it’s not necessarily a worse one.

9. Point Break (1991)

Just as Reeves’s reputation has grown over time, so too has the reputation of this loopy, philosophical crime thriller. Do people love Point Break ironically now, enjoying its over-the-top depiction of men seeking a spiritual connection with the world around them? Or do they genuinely appreciate the seriousness that director Kathryn Bigelow brought to her study of lonely souls looking for that next big rush — whether through surfing or robbing banks? The power of Reeves’s performance is that it works both ways. If you want to snicker at his melodramatic turn, fine — but if you want to marvel at the rapport his Johnny Utah forms with Patrick Swayze (Bodhi), who only feels alive when he’s living life to the extreme, then Point Break has room for you on the bandwagon.

8. Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure (1989) and Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey (1991) Before there was Beavis and Butt-Head, before there was Wayne and Garth, there were these guys: two Valley bozos who loved to shred and goof off. As Theodore Logan, Keanu Reeves found the perfect vessel for his serene silliness, playing well off Alex Winter’s equally clueless Bill. But note that Bill and Ted aren’t jerks — watch Excellent Adventure now and you’ll be struck by how incredibly sunny its humor is. Later in his career, Reeves would show off a darker, more brooding side, but here in Excellent Adventure (and its less-great sequel Bogus Journey) he makes blissful stupidity endearing.

7. The Gift (2000) This Sam Raimi film, with a Billy Bob Thornton script inspired by his mother, fizzled at the box office, despite a top-shelf cast: It’s probably not even the first film called The Gift you think of when we bring it up. But, gotta say, Reeves is outstanding in it, playing an abusive husband and all-around sonuvabitch who, nevertheless, might be unfairly accused of murder, a fact only a psychic (Cate Blanchett) understands. Reeves is full-on trailer trash here, but he brings something new and unexpected to it: a sort of bewildered malevolence, as if he’s moved by forces outside of his control. More of this, please.

6. My Own Private Idaho (1991)

Gus Van Sant’s landmark drama is chiefly remembered for River Phoenix’s nakedly anguished performance as Mike, a spiritually adrift gay hustler. (Phoenix’s death two years after My Own Private Idaho’s release only makes the portrayal more heartbreaking.) But his performance doesn’t work without a doubles partner, which is where Reeves comes in. Playing Scott, a fellow hustler and Mike’s best friend, Reeves adeptly encapsulates the mind-set of a young man content to just float through life. Unlike Mike, he knows he has a fat inheritance in his future — and also unlike Mike, he’s not gay, unable to share his buddy’s romantic feelings. Phoenix deservedly earned most of the accolades, but Reeves is terrific as an unobtainable object of affection — inviting, enticing, but also unknowable.

5. Speed (1994)

Years later, we still contend that Speed is a stupid idea for a movie that, despite all logic (or maybe because of the utter insanity of its premise), ended up being a total hoot. What’s clear is that the film simply couldn’t have worked if Reeves hadn’t approached the story with straight-faced sincerity: His L.A. cop Jack Traven is a ramrod-serious lawman who is going to do whatever it takes to save those bus passengers. Part of the pleasure of Speed is how it constantly juxtaposes the life-or-death stakes with the high-concept inanity — Stay above 50 mph or the bus will explode! — and that internal tension is expressed wonderfully by Reeves, who invests so intently in the ludicrousness that the movie is equally thrilling and knowingly goofy. And it goes without saying that he has dynamite chemistry with Sandra Bullock. Strictly speaking, you probably shouldn’t flirt this much when you’re sitting on top of a bomb — but it’s awfully appealing when they get their happy ending.

4. River’s Edge (1987) This film’s casting director said she cast Reeves as one of the dead-end kids who learn about a murder and do nothing “because of the way he held his body … his shoes were untied, and what he was wearing looked like a young person growing into being a man.” This was very much who the early Reeves was, and River’s Edge might be his darkest film. His vacancy here is not Zen cool … it’s just vacant, intellectually, ethically, morally, emotionally. Only in that void could Reeves be this terrifying. This is definitely a performance, but it never feels like acting. His magnetism was almost mystical.

3. John Wick (2014), John Wick: Chapter Two (2017), and John Wick: Chapter 3 — Parabellum (2019)

If they hadn’t killed his dog, none of this would have happened. Firmly part of the “middle-aged movie stars playing mournful badasses” subgenre that’s sprung up since Taken, the John Wick saga provides Reeves with an opportunity to be stripped-down but not serene. He’s a lethal assassin who swore to his dead wife that he’d put down his arms — but, lucky for us, he reneges on that promise after he’s pushed too far. Whereas in his previous hits there was something detached about Reeves, here’s he locked in in such a way that it’s both delightful and a little unnerving. The 2014 original was gleefully over-the-top already, and the sequels have only amped up the spectacle, but his genuine fury and weariness felt new, exciting, a revelation. Turns out Keanu Reeves is frighteningly convincing as a guy who can kill many, many people.

2. A Scanner Darkly (2006)

In hindsight, it seems odd that Keanu Reeves and Richard Linklater have only worked together once — their laid-back vibes would seemingly make them well suited for one another. But it makes sense that the one film they’ve made together is this Philip K. Dick adaptation, which utilizes interpolated rotoscoping to tell the story of a drug cop (Reeves) who’s hiding his own addiction while living in a nightmarish police state. That wavy, floating style of animation nicely complements A Scanner Darkly’s sense of jittery paranoia, but it also deftly mimics Reeves’s performance, which seems to be drifting along on its own wavelength. If in the Matrix films, he manages to defeat the dark forces, in this film they’re too powerful, leading to a pretty mournful finale.

1. The Matrix (1999), The Matrix Reloaded (2003), and The Matrix Revolutions (2003)

“They had written something that I had never seen, but in a way, something that I’d always hoped for — as an actor, as a fan of science fiction.” That’s how Reeves described the sensation of reading the screenplay for The Matrix, which had been dreamed up by two up-and-coming filmmakers, Lana and Lilly Wachowski. Five years after Speed, he found his next great project, which would become the defining role of his career. Neo is the missing link between Ted’s Zen-like stillness and John Wick’s lethal efficiency, giving us a hero’s journey for the 21st century that took from Luke Skywalker and anime with equal aplomb. Never before had the actor been such a formidable onscreen presence — deadly serious but still loose and limber. Even when the sequels succumbed to philosophical ramblings and overblown CGI, Reeves commanded the frame. We always knew that he seemed like a cool, left-of-center guy. The Matrix films gave him an opportunity to flex those muscles in a true blockbuster.

[emybain]

Danna and Celeste fluff, please

these two are literally adorable. I wanted to write more, as usual, but then decided to keep it short and sweet. in all honesty I didn't think people would care much about danna having a wife in that Christmas fic I posted forever ago, but I was wrong lol. I personally love celeste, and I really want marissa to at least hint at Danna getting a girlfriend in the third book bc after everything’s she’s been through, sis deserves one. also, side note, i apologize for my french bc 1) im a little rusty bc i havent taken a class in a while and 2) i tried to give context for when it was being spoken. anyways, hope you enjoy! it’s been fun writing this!

Also, as a note to everyone, if you like this fic PLEASE reblog! likes are nice, but reblogging really helps the work spread! always reblog other people's art/music/writing/etc!!!

summary: Danna is 19 and traveling across the world, learning about different cultures and customs. currently, she is in Lyon, France. her next destination is Paris, where she plans on seeing all the major monuments and artworks. however, a run in (literally) with a stranger may push back her trip to Paris a few days, or maybe even longer...

   It was a rainy day in Lyon. Most days were rainy in Lyon.

    Danna sighed. When she had first come to Lyon a few days ago, she was excited to see that it was raining. Other parts of France that she had visited so far were sunny, which was nice, but she loved rain.

    But it had been raining for three days now, and according to locals, that was normal for October.

    Danna pulled her sweater closer to her body, getting a sudden chill. In front of her sat her keyboard and tablet. On the tablet sat an open document with detailed notes and comments. For over a year now, she had been travelling the world, visiting country after country and learning new cultures. She wanted to write a book about becoming an active member in the community and giving a voice to people who didn’t have one. But Danna had a problem: she had no idea how to write a book, or even where to start. No number of how-to-write-for-beginners books had come in handy.

    She sipped at her black coffee and tapped her stylus against the table she was sitting at. She was at a coffee shop near her hotel, Le Café, if she remembered correctly. She had been holed up in her hotel room all morning and afternoon, having visited most of the city in the first two days, and finally decided to leave in search of inspiration.

    So far she had nothing.

    Danna set down her stylus and rubbed her eyes. A notification showed up on the top of her tablet. She clicked on it, not even checking to see what it was for. Her messenger app opened, revealing her chat with Ruby. Danna tried to keep in touch with her friends in Gatlon, but the time differences made things hard. While it was currently just after five in the afternoon in Lyon, France, it was only eleven in the mid morning in Gatlon. It wasn’t as bad as when Danna was in Beijing, though. When she was eating lunch, it was still the previous day in Gatlon. Just to give an example.

    She looked at the photo Ruby had sent her. It was of a passed out Oscar on the couch of their apartment. Danna snorted. On closer examination, she saw a plate laying in his lap that was scraped clean. Their cat, Craig, was sprawled out across his chest.

        thinking of you! how’s france? also, is it okay if we video chat later? everyone’s coming over for game night and we want you to join in!

    Danna mulled over the question. If she chose to play with them, it would be well after midnight. It wouldn’t be the first time Danna had joined in on their game nights, a tradition she had once been a part of before leaving Gatlon.

            France is great! I miss you guys so much...thinking about a quick trip home. And that depends...what’s the chosen game?

    Ruby responded immediately. 

    ooh yes PLEASE come home!!! craig misses you the most! and the game is your choice!

        Danna chuckled. Craig was a good cat.

        Will your fiancé be okay with me choosing? 

    Oscar was the usual game-chooser for game nights, as he knew some good games. He took it personally when someone else wanted to choose. It had since become a running joke in their friend group.

A large group of girls walked into the shop, chattering and laughing loudly. Danna took one glance at them and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. They were around her age, university students. She was sure they were nice people, but did they have to be so loud? In a coffee shop? Hopefully, they were getting drinks to-go.

        he will be if i say he will be.

    Danna laughed into her coffee cup, snickering silently. Ruby and Oscar had gotten engaged a few months ago. No one was really surprised; they weren’t even twenty yet, but they were the definition of soulmates, perfect for one another. She sent Ruby a laughing image and closed their conversation.

    She sighed again, grateful for the distraction. For a few minutes, she just sat there, staring out the window beside her table. People and cars went by. It would be dark pretty soon. The aroma of pastries surrounded her, and her mouth watered. She checked the time, and decided she deserved a quick snack before heading out for dinner.

    Grabbing her wallet and turning off her tablet, Danna stood from her table. Only to stumble back and clumsily fall onto her seat as she was immediately drenched in something wet. And cold. Very. Cold.

    “Zut alors!” a voice gasped. Danna sat paralyzed, staring down at the iced coffee that was now all over her shirt she had bought in Vienna. “Je suis désolé! Je ne savais pas que vous-”

    “Ne vous inquiétez pas à ce sujet.” Danna winced at her accent. She had learned some French when she was younger, but it wasn’t her strongest language. Thankfully, she could at least understand that the person was apologizing, and she knew enough to be able to tell them it was fine. “J’ai besoin de serv...” Her words died in her mouth as she looked up at the girl who spilled her ice coffee on her. It was one of the girls from the loud group of college students. She looked just as shocked as Danna was.

    They blinked at one another, and the girl offered a shaky smile. “Serviettes?” she said softly, and Danna nodded numbly, unable to tell if it was from the cold or something else. The girl left and returned shortly with a handful of napkins.

    “Merci.” Danna took a few of the napkins and began wiping at her shirt, but to no avail. Hopefully, it would come out in the laundry. The girl busied herself with cleaning up her drink on the floor, blushing furiously. Danna opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by one of the girl’s friends, who hollered at her from across the shop.

    “Celeste! Allons-y!” The other girl waved for her friend, Celeste, to go. She and the rest of their group were at the door, waiting for Celeste to join them.

    The girl grumbled underneath her breath, too soft for Danna to understand it. “Attends, Annette! Une minute!”

    Danna grasped for something to say. After stumbling over a few words, she managed to tell the girl she could go, that Danna could clean the rest. But the girl just smiled and shook her head. Then, she turned her head to the rest of her party of friends and told them to go without her. She would catch up later.

    “Est-ce que vous êtes Français?” she asked after her friends left, dropping wet napkins into her spilled cup. Danna shook her head and told her that no, that she was from Gatlon, headquarters for Renegades, and that she spoke English. The girl gasped and looked up at Danna, eyes wide. Danna’s heart lurched. She asked if Danna was a Renegade, and when Danna didn’t answer, she giggled.

    “I am joking,” she said with a thick accent, smiling. “That’s not my business.”

    “You can speak English?” Danna blinked, surprised. The only English speakers she had come across in France were mainly tourists and shopkeepers who wanted to be able to communicate with their customers.

    “Yes. My maman is from Edinburgh, but my papa is from here.” She stood, finished with cleaning her spill. She grabbed Danna’s used napkins and put them in her cup. “I’ll be right back.” She went to a trash can near the order counter, then returned.

    “Um...thank you.” Danna swallowed. “I’m Danna, by the way. Danna Bell.” She held out an awkward hand, not really sure why she was introducing herself to a stranger who was going to leave soon anyways.

    The girl smiled brightly and accepted her handshake. “Celeste de la Fontaine. It’s a pleasure spilling coffee on you, Danna.”  

    “Iced coffee, too.” Danna managed to smile in return. “It’s October and freezing outside. Why did you order an iced coffee?”

    Celeste giggled, and Danna’s cheeks grew warm. “I don’t like hot coffee. It’s better iced.”

    Danna raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you’re one of those people?” she teased. Immediately, she was surprised how easy it came out. She was usually very stiff around strangers.

    “You could say I’m rare,” Celeste retorted. She gestured to the seat across from Danna. “May I sit?”

    Danna nodded.

    “Your friend sounds like a likeable guy,” Celeste said, unable to contain her laughter as she took a bite of her pastry. “But also very stupid.” Danna had just finished telling Celeste a story about how Oscar had pranked Adrian’s dads and the rest of the Council and gotten away with it. The only people who were truly mad about the main lobby floor being covered from wall to wall in balloons were Thunderbird and Tsunami. Adrian’s dads and Blacklight were highly amused, probably because they knew who was behind the prank, and knew that his accomplice was Adrian, who helped by drawing the balloons. It was a better idea than the one Oscar had originally planned, which involved covering all the walls in papers stating a required inspection of all male Renegades concerning...something Danna would rather not repeat. But then Danna, Nova, and Ruby heard of his plans, and they all took turns in lecturing him on the stupidity of his prank, and how he could potentially offend or scar someone.

    Danna snorted. “Yeah. Oscar’s a special one. He annoys me seventy-five percent of the time, but I tolerate him the rest of the time.”

    They had been sitting in the coffee shop for over an hour, chatting and laughing. Danna had smiled more in an hour than she had in a year. There was something about Celeste that made Danna be so drawn to her. She was intelligent, kind, and was an activist like Danna, although she only had enough time to spread activist information via social media. She was also pretty, with brown eyes and dark hair and olive toned skin. But there was something else that made Danna’s heart flutter.

    One of the workers approached their table and kindly told them that the shop would be closing soon. Danna and Celeste collected their things and threw out their trash. When they stepped outside, now night, they were met with a blast of cold air. Celeste grinned and pulled her jacket tighter around her frame.

    “I love the cold.” She breathed in deeply. “Gives me an excuse to wear big sweaters.”

    They strolled down the sidewalk, neither in a huge hurry. Danna shifted her bag on her back and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “I meant to ask you earlier, but what happened to all of your friends?”

    Celeste shook her head, nose scrunched up. “They were going off to some movie that I wasn’t really interested in. Some predictable romantic comedy.”

    “So, you just used me to get out of it?” Danna bit her lip, glancing at Celeste, who shot her a full smile, white teeth showing.

    “Perhaps.” Maybe it was Danna’s imagination, but she thought she saw Celeste drift closer to her. “Or perhaps I just wanted to stay and talk to you.”

    They stopped on a street corner. Danna turned to face Celeste, both of their faces illuminated by the street lamp above them. Celeste’s cheeks were rosy, her eyes bright.

    “How long are you in Lyon?” Celeste asked, voice dropping just slightly. Danna knew for a fact that she shifted closer this time. She took note how much shorter Celeste was than her.

    Danna toed her boot against the pavement. “I was planning on leaving tomorrow, but I told myself I would stay a little longer if I found something really interesting.”

    Celeste nodded slowly. “And?”

    Looking down at the ground, then back up at Celeste, suddenly feeling a wave of embarrassment overtake her, Danna said. “I think I can stay for a few more days.”

    They exchanged numbers and social medias, Danna promising that they could meet up again before she moved on to Paris.

    But something deep inside of Danna told her that she wouldn’t make it to Paris for a while.

[kootenaygoon]

So,

The event was called Find Your Divine. 

Every year the Nelson Star hosted a women’s shindig down at the Prestige, featuring a booth bonanza of feminine swag from all sorts of local companies before a speech given by an inspiring public figure. Usually it was an author of some sort of self-help book, or maybe a TV personality. This year they’d landed the prime minister’s mother, Margaret Trudeau, and I’d been assigned to cover the estrogen-heavy event on a weekday evening. One morning Sharon swung by the newsroom to let me know she wanted me there right from the moment the doors opened through to the end, plus she wanted the coverage to go live that night. This was her baby. I seethed at my desk, annoyed by the urgency in her voice. Whenever there was money coming our way, that’s when my publisher’s priorities got real clear.

That night I asked Kai out for a drink, primarily to bitch about Sharon and seek solidarity. That’s not what I found. He met me at the Falls Music Lounge around 8 p.m. and when I invited him to order something he said he didn’t drink. He looked impatient, his leg bouncing under the table.

“The reason I’m here is to talk to you. I wanted to know what’s up. It seems like you’ve been really off the last little while,” he said. “And this whole thing with the Carpenters is getting out of hand. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. I mean, the break-up’s been hard but I’m holding it together.”

“Yeah, but there’s only so long you can blame your drama on your ex. At some point you need to move on with your life and be a grown-up, you know?”

Kai was better positioned than most to comment on my mental health. Two months earlier he’d spotted a bruise on my neck that I’d earned tussling with a bouncer at the Royal. One night when we were in the office late, he smelled pot and became the first person at work to call me out on it. He had little patience for my misbehaviour and wanted nothing to do with my ongoing HR antics. When it came down to it, he was an adult and a father. 

I was neither.

“But don’t you think it’s ridiculous how Sharon just marched into the newsroom and bossed me around like that? I mean, Greg’s the editor. Not her!” I said, getting upset all over again. “I’m just tired of this Mickey Mouse bullshit.”

Kai sighed, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “This attitude isn’t going to get you anywhere. Trust me.”

“Nobody holds them accountable.”

He shook his head. “You talk like they’re Bond villains. It’s ridiculous. Are they the best publishers I’ve ever had? No. Are they the worst? No. They’re prominent, long-term members of this community and they deserve some respect. Way more respect than you’re giving them. I’m surprised you haven’t been fired already. If you want my honest opinion, there it is.”

“So you’re taking sides with them.”

“The only one turning this into an us versus them scenario is you, Will.”

After my conversation with Kai I decided that I was going to cover the shit out of this event as a pseudo-apology for my surly behaviour. I was going to give Margaret the deluxe treatment. For a few months I’d been live-tweeting school board meetings and I decided to do the same thing with her talk, posting videos and photos to Twitter as the night progressed. I would tag Justin Trudeau once the story was published. From what I heard he had actually distanced himself politically from his mother, as she was too incendiary and polarizing of a figure. She had cheated on his father, partied with the Rolling Stones and admitted to rampant drug use. The more I learned about her, the more I liked her. Like Sean Dooley she was capable of stripteasing in public, using her vulnerability as a kind of strength. 

I showed up for the event early, as some of the companies were still setting up their booths. They were selling bras and moisturizing cream and the type of art you might hang in a doctor’s office, one smiling face after another as I completed a lap around the room. Sharon had asked me to take some pictures of the vendors so I did, asking a few to pose here and there. We were getting regular text message updates about Margaret’s imminent arrival, and I was getting giddy. One of my favourite things about journalism is how I’m routinely faced with people I would never get to meet otherwise. Margaret would be a good addition for my “Famous People I’ve Met” list, alongside Ted Harrison, Jack Layton and Miriam Toews. 

The thing about the type of people who birth future prime ministers is you can feel them before you see them. It’s like the wind picking up speed, or a quick chill in the air, and suddenly you know something’s coming. I was standing there taking a picture of some smiling business owners when a susurrus of whispers swept through the room. She’s coming. The ladies fumbled with their cameras, began to jostle politely towards the door. I ducked and weaved through their bodies and made my way back into the hallway, where I could see Sharon talking to a woman in a cherry red dress. It was her.

“Oh, and Margaret? This is Will, our reporter. He’s going to be covering the event and taking pictures,” Sharon said, once I made my way over.

Margaret gave me a languid handshake, her smile knowing. She seemed a little drunk to me. “I’m used to having my photo taken, believe me.”

For the next twenty minutes I watched her work the crowd, making time for one admirer after another. She posed for a photo with Mayor Deb Kozak, hugged strangers and told pithy jokes. Eventually she made her way to the podium, after being introduced by local actor Lucas Myers. Hundreds of women had amassed their swag and were now ready to be inspired. I had the feeling that most of them were going to end up feeling like they received something different than what they paid for.

It was clear from the get-go that Margaret hadn’t prepared a clearly mapped out PowerPoint presentation about how to succeed, or a carefully scripted Ted talk on all the lessons she’d learned along the way. Instead she took the microphone and just began to speak in a rambling, scatter-brained style, careening from one subject to the next while making self-deprecating jokes and name-dropping historical figures. I could see some of the women murmuring, annoyed, as she laughed about doing drugs and hinted at her own promiscuity. All of this was somehow perfect, though, for her subject matter. Her book Changing My Mind was about mental health, an unpredictable and volatile topic. I started pulling quotes and posting them on Twitter. 

She was so real.

One thing I’d learned while researching Margaret was that her son Michel had died in a Nelson-area avalanche in 1998. The Kootenay area held special significance for her. When she started talking about Michel, I turned on my recorder. I knew this would be the emotional crux of the piece, as well as the most obvious local angle. She told the crowd that news of his death robbed her of the will to live.

“I was so locked in my own grief I couldn’t even help my boys. I had the body of a 10-year-old boy. I was wasting away. It had become clear that I was a danger to myself and I wasn’t in charge of my life,” she said.

Once the event was over, I rushed to the Star office and began transcribing the recordings I’d taken. There was a great quote and about wake and baking, a few solid anecdotes about her life with Pierre, and then the Michel angle. I processed the photos and uploaded them to the website while I checked Twitter for engagements and prepared my Facebook post. I texted back and forth with Greg, who was editing from home, and got the piece up less than an hour after the event had ended. Not bad. I e-mailed the link to Sharon, to make sure she saw the story, then headed home exhausted.

The next afternoon, as I was standing alone in the newsroom, Sharon swung by to check out the pictures from the evening before. I proudly showed her all the favourited images I had in a quick slide slow, pointing out the ones I’d used to illustrate the story. 

“But where are all the pictures of the vendors?”

I’d forgotten. “Oh, right. Those got uploaded with the rest, I’ll just pull them up here.”

All told, I’d only taken maybe 20 photos of the various booths. Some of them hadn’t been manned while I was making my rounds, and many of them weren’t aesthetically pleasing. I was going through the motions because she’d asked me to do it, but I didn’t know how these images would ultimately be used. They wouldn’t have any real journalistic value beyond being featured in a promotional photo spread. Or an advertisement. I had figured three or four solid images would be enough, but I was wrong. She started listing on her fingers all the businesses I’d missed.

“Okay, but I was more focused on Margaret. She showed up around that time, so I guess I was distracted.”

“I told you to get pictures of all the booths.”

“For what?”

“It doesn’t matter for what. This is your job, and you didn’t do it.”

Sharon stormed off, furious. It was a sunny afternoon and I’d just returned from lunch. Things had been going so nicely until she showed. Here I was convinced that I’d finally mended a fence, done her a solid, and she still wasn’t happy. I couldn’t win, no matter how hard I tried. I stewed at my computer, vibrating with frustration, until I couldn’t hold it in any longer. The sea of anger that had been building in my chest for the past two years was boiling over, and I was about to take it out on her. I walked across the office and knocked on her door, asked if I could sit. She gazed over the top of her glasses at me, her lower jaw quivering.

“I don’t think it’s fair, you giving me shit over the Trudeau coverage. I was there from the beginning to the end, getting awesome photos and live-tweeting and everything. I covered the shit out of this event, I did my job, and you didn’t even mention my story at all.”

“You weren’t there until the end. You were missing during the clean up.”

“I was working at the office, writing up the story with Greg so I could get in online right away like you asked. I checked in with you! I told you that. I ended up working for 12 hours that day.” 

She scoffed at that. We were beginning to talk over each other, and things were escalating. My face was hot, my voice was breaking. I began to insult her and Cam, calling them “shady” and vowing to destroy their reputation in town. I told her I couldn’t fucking wait until the day they walked out of the Star office and out of my life. I accused her of being a negligent publisher and blamed her for my deteriorating mental health. She stood with tears in her eyes and asked me to leave, twice, motioning for the door and looking in the opposite direction. The fear on her face made me feel instantly ashamed. I shook my head and left.

That’s it, I thought to myself. They’re going to fire me for that stunt, for sure.

As it turned out, I was wrong.

The Kootenay Goon