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julietsf1 · 7 months ago

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Factory Reset - Franco Colapinto x Engineer!Reader

summary: After a major crash, Franco Colapinto is sent to the Williams factory to work alongside the engineers repairing his car. Tensions run high as he’s forced to confront the realities of their work and the sharp wit of performance engineer Y/N. What begins as a clash of worlds becomes an eye-opening experience for both. (6k words)

content: overconfident Franco; smart but salty Y/N; 3rd person POV; written by someone who doesn't know much about engineering lol it's the vibes that count innit

an: Sorry for disappearing cuties! I had some unexpected work obligations but will be uploading all my WIPs today! thanks for sticking around <3

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The tension in the Williams Racing debrief room was almost as palpable as the screeching halt Franco Colapinto’s car had come to in Las Vegas. The crash had been spectacularly disastrous, with debris scattered across the strip like confetti. And now, here he was, summoned not to a glamorous event or strategy meeting but to a mandatory visit to the Williams factory in Grove. Franco couldn’t remember the last time he felt this much dread walking into a building.

James Vowles stood at the head of the room, his usual calm demeanor carrying an edge of authority that demanded attention.

“We’re implementing a new initiative,” James began, his sharp eyes darting between Franco and the engineers gathered. “To strengthen team spirit and accountability. After a crash like the one in Vegas and our previous years with many crashes, it’s crucial to recognize that Formula 1 isn’t just about what happens on track. It’s also about the people who make it all possible behind the scenes.”

Franco leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. He wasn’t a fan of the lecture tone, but he wasn’t about to interrupt.

“This initiative,” James continued, “involves drivers spending time at the factory. Working alongside the team. Seeing firsthand the hours, the sweat, and the dedication it takes to repair the damages—damages that fall under the cost cap.”

There it was. The thinly veiled jab. Franco sat up straighter, his jaw tightening.

“I’m sure we all agree,” James said with a smile that wasn’t entirely warm, “this will benefit everyone. Franco, you’ll spend the next three days with us here in Grove.”

The engineers in the room exchanged glances. Some smirked, others looked indifferent, but one person in particular didn’t even bother to mask her displeasure. Y/N, one of the team’s senior performance engineers, leaned back in her chair, arms folded, with an expression that screamed, “Of course it’s him.”

Franco noticed her immediately. He’d seen her around the garage before but had never exchanged more than a brief nod. Now, as her steely eyes bore into him, he felt the weight of the animosity she clearly didn’t bother to hide.

“Any questions?” James asked, breaking the silence.

Franco raised a hand half-heartedly. “Yeah. What exactly am I supposed to do for three days?”

James smiled, his tone sharper than the words themselves. “Learn.”

…

The hum of machinery filled the Williams factory, a symphony of clanging metal, whirring drills, and distant chatter. Franco stood awkwardly at the edge of the main floor, dressed in a team-issued polo and jeans, feeling painfully out of place. Engineers bustled past him with purpose, pushing carts laden with parts or gesturing at detailed schematics. Everyone seemed to know where they were going—everyone but him.

Y/N emerged from a row of workstations, a tablet tucked under her arm and a look of mild irritation on her face. Her presence was commanding, despite her relatively small stature among the towering racks and machinery. When she spotted Franco, her expression tightened further, as if this entire ordeal was a personal inconvenience.

“Right,” she said, stopping in front of him. “Let’s get this over with.”

Franco raised an eyebrow. “Wow. You really know how to make a guy feel welcome.”

Y/N didn’t bite. Instead, she thrust the tablet toward him. “Here’s your schedule for the day. You’ll shadow me for the morning. Try to keep up.”

“Keep up?” Franco smirked, taking the tablet. “I’m an F1 driver. I think I can manage.”

She didn’t even look back as she turned on her heel. “We’ll see.”

The morning was a whirlwind of tasks that Franco barely understood. Y/N walked him through the telemetry department, where engineers analyzed data from his car. The lead analyst, a middle-aged man named Paul, greeted Y/N warmly but barely spared Franco a glance.

“So this is the data from Vegas,” Y/N said, pulling up a graph on one of the monitors. “See these spikes here? That’s where you oversteered.”

Franco squinted at the screen, trying to make sense of the jagged lines. “Okay, but in my defense, the rear was completeshit by that point.”

Y/N shot him a sharp look. “In your defense? Do you know how much work it took to rebuild the floor after that?”

Paul cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the tension. “It’s not all bad,” he interjected. “We did get some valuable data—”

“Valuable data doesn’t fix a wrecked car,” Y/N cut him off, her eyes still on Franco. “Next time, maybe don’t treat the car like it’s disposable.”

Franco clenched his jaw. He was used to criticism from team principals or the media, but this felt different—more personal. “I don’t crash on purpose, you know,” he muttered.

Y/N turned back to the screen. “Could’ve fooled me.”

The tour continued through the machine shop, where technicians were crafting replacement parts, and the aerodynamics lab, where wind tunnel models were being adjusted. Franco noticed that while most people greeted Y/N with respect, their reactions to him ranged from polite nods to outright indifference.

By the time they reached the assembly area, Franco was bristling with frustration. “Is everyone here always this friendly, or is it just me?”

Y/N glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “They’re busy. Unlike you, they don’t have time to play the victim.”

Franco stopped walking, forcing her to turn around. “What’s your problem with me?”

“My problem?” Y/N folded her arms, her voice low but pointed. “You think this team exists to make you look good on Sundays. But for us, this is our life. Every crash, every mistake, it’s hours of extra work. Late nights. Missed weekends. Let alone you blaming it all on the car every time. So yeah, excuse me if I’m not rolling out the red carpet for you.”

Franco opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t find the words. Instead, he fell silent and followed her as she led him to the next department.

The afternoon brought more hands-on tasks. Y/N handed Franco a wrench and pointed to a disassembled gearbox. “Think you can manage this?”

“Depends,” Franco said, inspecting the gearbox. “What’s the record time for putting one of these together?”

“This isn’t a race,” Y/N snapped, but there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes.

Franco worked diligently, occasionally asking questions that Y/N grudgingly answered. By the end of the day, the gearbox was reassembled, and Franco felt a small sense of accomplishment—though Y/N didn’t offer any praise.

As they packed up, Franco noticed her pause by one of the workbenches, her expression softening as she examined a photo taped to the wall. It showed a younger Y/N during her internship at McLaren, laughing with Daniel Ricciardo and Lando Norris.

“You worked at McLaren?” Franco asked, genuinely curious.

Y/N nodded without looking at him. “Internship during uni. Best year of my life.”

“Let me guess,” Franco said. “You were one of Danny Ric’s ‘shoey’ victims?”

Y/N laughed, a sound that surprised them both. “Only once. But it was worth it.”

For a moment, the tension between them eased. Then Y/N’s phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen. “Back to reality. See you tomorrow, Colapinto.”

As she walked away, Franco found himself smiling despite himself.

…

The second day at the Williams factory was already shaping up to be a long one. Franco arrived earlier than expected, determined not to let Y/N accuse him of slacking off. The factory came alive with distant murmur of conversations slowly filling the space. He leaned against the telemetry lab doorframe, holding a cup of coffee that smelled like it had been brewed by an engineer experimenting with car oil, waiting for Y/N to show up.

When she finally appeared, cradling a steaming cup of tea and glancing down at her tablet, Franco couldn’t help himself. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”

Y/N looked up, unimpressed. “You’re early. Trying to win points or just lost?”

“Maybe I just enjoy our morning chats,” Franco replied, grinning over the rim of his coffee cup. “Your warmth really sets the tone for the day.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but there was a flicker of amusement behind her usual sharpness. “If sarcasm counts as effort, you’re doing great.”

The morning routine started where the conversation with Paul had left off the previous day: telemetry analysis. Franco was seated in the simulator cockpit while Y/N pulled up detailed graphs of his Vegas laps, pointing out each mistake with the precision of a scalpel.

“See this spike here?” she said, her finger hovering over the screen. “That’s where you decided braking wasn’t necessary.”

“I didn’t decide that,” Franco countered, leaning forward to study the data. “The rear was loose, and I had to adjust—”

“You overcompensated,” Y/N interrupted, highlighting another section. “Instead of making a gradual adjustment, you panicked. A car doesn’t respond well to panic.”

Franco frowned, leaning back in the seat. “I didn’t panic.”

Y/N turned to face him, her gaze piercing. “You’re telling me plowing into the barrier was part of the plan?”

For a moment, Franco stared at her, at a complete loss for words. Then he laughed, the tension easing slightly. “You know, you’d make a great drill sergeant.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said dryly, though the faintest hint of a smirk played on her lips.

By lunchtime, Franco had decided to stop avoiding the canteen drama and instead followed Y/N to her usual table. She sat with a group of engineers, all engaged in animated conversation about the latest updates to the floor design. Franco tried to follow along, but the technical jargon quickly became overwhelming.

“You look lost,” Y/N said, leaning toward him. Her voice was low enough that only he could hear. “Too many big words?”

Franco smirked, stealing a chip from her tray. “Just biding my time. Waiting for you to talk about something interesting.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow but didn’t stop him from taking another chip. “Bold move.”

“I can be bold,” he said, popping the chip into his mouth.

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward, betraying her amusement.

…

At four o’clock sharp Y/N stood by the sideline of the nearby paddle court, tapping her racket against her leg and scanning the group of engineers gathering for the weekly game. It was her favorite way to let off steam after a long week - competitive enough to keep her engaged but lighthearted enough to remind her that work wasn’t everything.

“Where’s Ethan?” someone asked, voicing the question on her mind.

Y/N’s usual partner was nowhere to be seen. A quick check of her phone confirmed it: Ethan had bailed last-minute with a text about a migraine and a sincere promise to make it up to her next week.

“Great,” Y/N muttered under her breath. Without a partner, she’d be sitting this one out.

“Problem?” Franco’s voice cut through the crowd, his grin as smug as ever as he leaned against the court’s railing.

Y/N turned to him, crossing her arms. “Ethan flaked. No partner, no game.”

“Shame,” Franco said, though he didn’t sound particularly sorry. “Guess you’ll just have to cheer from the sidelines.”

Y/N glared at him, but before she could retort, he held up his hands in mock surrender.

“Or,” he continued, “I could step in. You know, save the day.”

She snorted, looking him up and down. “You? Save my day?”

“Hey,” Franco said, grabbing a spare paddle from the bench. “I’m more coordinated than I look.”

“That’s a low bar,” Y/N shot back, but her lips twitched as if suppressing a smile.

“You need a partner,” Franco said, spinning the paddle in his hand. “I’m offering. Unless you’re too scared I’ll outplay you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the thought of sitting out was more annoying than the idea of teaming up with him. “Fine,” she said, pointing at him with her paddle. “But if you screw this up, I’m never letting you live it down.”

The first few minutes were rocky. Franco’s confidence far outstripped his paddle skills, and Y/N found herself darting across the court to cover his missed volleys.

“Are you actually trying?” she called after him when he completely whiffed a return.

“Relax,” Franco said, jogging back to his position. “I’m just warming up.”

“You better warm up fast, I have a competition ranking to keep up,” she snapped, returning a wicked shot from their opponents.

But to her surprise, Franco adjusted quickly. His natural athleticism took over, and soon he was diving for impossible shots and landing them with a flourish that almost made Y/N forget his rough start.

“Not bad,” she admitted after he scored their first point with a sharp return.

“Not bad?” Franco said, feigning offense. “That was textbook genius.”

“Let’s not get carried away,” Y/N said, though she couldn’t help the grin that tugged at her lips.

As the match progressed, Y/N found herself enjoying their unlikely partnership. Franco’s energy was infectious, and his relentless determination to win made her laugh more than once.

“Nice shot!” he shouted after one of her perfectly placed lobs.

“Thanks,” she replied, her voice tinged with mock sweetness. “Try not to ruin it.”

“I’m carrying this team,” Franco said, panting as he prepared for the next serve.

“Only thing you’re carrying is that big head of yours,” Y/N muttered, but the teasing tone softened her words.

At some point, a stray ball sailed out of the court, bouncing into the parking lot. Franco volunteered to fetch it, jogging off while Y/N leaned against the net to catch her breath.

James Vowles strolled over from the sidelines, hands in his pockets and a wide smile on his face.

“Not bad out there,” James said, nodding toward the court. “You’ve got Franco moving, at least.”

Y/N laughed, brushing a stray hair from her face. “He’s not as useless as I thought. Still reckless, though.”

James chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “You know, it’s good to see him having fun. It’s been a rough season—rookie pressure and all that. Moments like this are rare for him.”

Y/N glanced toward Franco, who was bent over retrieving the ball. His usual bravado seemed lighter today, less forced. She’d never thought about how intense the pressure must be for him.

“He hides it well,” Y/N said softly.

James nodded, still smiling. “He does. Sometimes I forget how young he still is.”

When Franco jogged back onto the court, tossing the ball into the air with a cocky grin, Y/N felt a twinge of sympathy she hadn’t expected.

“Ready?” Franco called, positioning himself for the next serve.

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” Y/N replied, her voice softer than before.

Franco’s serve caught her off guard. It was precise and powerful, skimming the net and clipping the edge of the line.

“Nice serve,” Y/N said, the words escaping before she could think better of them.

Franco froze mid-smile. “Did you just compliment me?”

“Don’t get used to it,” she said quickly, but there was a faint blush on her cheeks.

The rest of the match passed in a blur of fast volleys and laughter. Y/N found herself encouraging Franco more often, and he responded by playing even better, his confidence growing with every point.

By the time they won—21 to 17—they were both breathless and grinning.

“Good game,” Franco said, holding out his hand.

Y/N shook it, her grip firm. “Not terrible.”

“Coming from you, I’ll take that as glowing praise,” Franco said, his grin widening.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” she said, though her tone was more teasing than cutting.

As the match wrapped up and the court cleared, Y/N crouched down to zip her bag, her mind still buzzing with the game’s energy. She couldn’t help but replay the last few points in her head—the unexpected precision of Franco’s serve, the way he’d thrown himself into every volley, and, perhaps most surprising, how well they’d worked together. It wasn’t something she’d anticipated when she grudgingly let him join her earlier.

Franco, standing a few feet away, adjusted the strap of his bag and hesitated. He glanced at Y/N, his usual cocky grin nowhere in sight. Instead, his expression was softer, more sincere, as though he was wrestling with what to say.

“Thanks for letting me play,” he said finally, his voice quieter than usual. It wasn’t just a throwaway comment—it carried a weight Y/N hadn’t expected.

She paused, straightening up and meeting his gaze. For a moment, she wasn’t sure how to respond. Franco wasn’t looking at her with his usual smirk or playful glint. There was something vulnerable in his eyes, something she hadn’t seen before. Gratitude, maybe, or relief.

I should be thanking you,” she said simply, her tone gentler than usual.

Franco blinked, as though her words had surprised him, and for the first time since he’d arrived at the factory, he looked almost shy. He nodded, slinging his bag over his shoulder and stepping closer.

“Seriously,” he added, his voice a little firmer now. “I needed that. It’s been… a lot lately. You didn’t have to let me join, but you did. So, thanks.”

Y/N studied him, her sharp instincts catching the subtle way his shoulders relaxed, the way he shifted his weight like he wasn’t used to opening up. This wasn’t the brash rookie who crashed cars and cracked jokes at every opportunity. This was someone who carried more than he let on—someone who, despite his flaws, was trying.

Her reply came almost automatically, her voice softer than she expected. “Well, don’t let it go to your head.”

But there was no edge to her words this time, no undercurrent of sarcasm. It was the kind of teasing that felt less like a wall and more like an olive branch.

For the first time, she didn’t see him as just the reckless rookie who kept wrecking her hard work. He was something more—someone navigating a high-pressure world, someone trying to find his place just like everyone else. And, Y/N realized, he wasn’t half-bad at it when he let himself breathe.

Franco smiled—an easy, genuine smile that lit up his face in a way that was, dare she admit it, a little endearing. “Careful,” he said, his tone regaining its usual playfulness. “Keep this up, and I might start thinking you like me.”

“Let’s not get carried away,” she shot back, though her lips twitched into a faint smile of their own.

As they walked out of the court together, their banter trailing into the evening air, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted. Maybe, just maybe, Franco Colapinto wasn’t as bad as she’d thought.

…

The hum of the factory felt louder than usual the next morning, or maybe it was just the lingering buzz from the paddle game. Y/N sat at her workstation, staring at the detailed telemetry graphs on her screen but not entirely focused on them. She couldn’t stop thinking about Franco—not in the way she was used to, with irritation bubbling under the surface, but something else. Something softer.

“Morning,” a familiar voice called, jolting her out of her thoughts.

Franco leaned against the edge of her desk, his trademark grin firmly in place. He was holding a cup of coffee—factory brew, by the looks of it—and looked annoyingly chipper for someone who had spent the previous day sprinting across a court.

“Don’t you have someone else to bother?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow but unable to keep the amusement out of her tone.

“Probably,” Franco replied, setting the coffee down on her desk. “But I figured I’d start with you.”

Y/N eyed the cup suspiciously. “What’s this?”

“Peace offering,” he said, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Figured I owed you for carrying me in paddle yesterday.”

Y/N snorted, picking up the cup. “You’re lucky I like caffeine.” She took a cautious sip, then looked up at him. “Still terrible coffee, though.”

“Hey, I tried,” Franco said, raising his hands in mock surrender.

The morning flew by in a blur of meetings and simulations. Franco had started shadowing her more closely, asking questions that, to her surprise, weren’t entirely stupid.

“So, this graph,” Franco said, leaning over her shoulder as she pulled up data from one of the wind tunnel tests. “What does this spike mean?”

“It means the airflow over the rear wing is separating,” Y/N explained, highlighting the section with my cursor. “See this spike? That’s where the turbulence is disrupting the downforce. Less downforce means less grip, especially through the high-speed corners.”

Franco leaned in, squinting at the data. “So that’s why we were losing time through Sector 2 at Interlagos—the Esses and that long left-hander?”

Y/N glanced at him, impressed despite herself. “Exactly. Nice to see you’ve been paying attention for once.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Franco said, grinning.

Their banter flowed more easily now, the sharp edges of their earlier exchanges softened into something almost friendly. Almost.

During their mid-morning coffee break, Y/N found herself sitting with Franco at one of the smaller tables near the canteen window. She usually avoided these moments, preferring to spend her breaks with other engineers or, more often, alone. But today, she didn’t mind the company.

“So,” Franco said, leaning back in his chair. “How’d you end up here, anyway?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Here, as in Williams? Or here, as in motorsport?”

“Motorsport,” Franco clarified, taking a sip of his coffee. “You don’t exactly seem like the type to spend your weekends watching races.”

Y/N chuckled. “You’d be right about that. My dad was obsessed with cars, though. Used to take me to karting tracks when I was a kid. At first, I hated it—too loud, too smelly. But then I started paying attention to the mechanics, how everything fit together. It just… made sense.”

Franco tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “And that led you here?”

“Eventually,” Y/N said, shrugging. “I studied engineering, did an internship with McLaren during uni. That’s when I realized this wasn’t just some childhood fascination. It was what I wanted to do.”

Franco nodded, his voice quieter now. “Well, you’re really good at it. I hope you know that.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity. “Thanks, Franco,” she said softly, a small smile tugging at her lips.

The afternoon was hectic. With the car rebuild still behind schedule, the factory floor buzzed with a sense of urgency. Y/N was stationed at one of the workbenches, assembling a new rear suspension with a few other engineers, when Franco wandered over.

“Need a hand?” he asked, pulling up a stool beside her.

“Can you tell the difference between a torque wrench and a spanner?” Y/N asked without looking up.

“Not yet,” Franco admitted, resting his chin on his hand. “But I’m a fast learner.”

Y/N sighed but handed him a tool anyway. “Fine. Hold this. And don’t drop it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Franco said, mimicking a salute.

Despite her initial reservations, Y/N found herself enjoying his presence. He asked questions, paid attention to her answers, and even managed to make her laugh a few times. By the end of the day, she was surprised at how much they’d gotten done—and how much lighter the workload had felt with him around.

As the factory began to wind down for the evening, Y/N was packing up her tools when Franco appeared beside her, hands in his pockets and a lopsided smile on his face.

“Busy tomorrow?” he asked.

“Probably,” Y/N replied, zipping up her bag. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” Franco said, his tone casual. “Figured I should plan my day around annoying you as much as possible.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her face. “Good luck with that.”

As they walked out of the factory together, the air between them felt lighter, less charged with the tension that had defined their earlier interactions. For the first time, Y/N found herself looking forward to the next day—not just for the work, but for the company.

…

The pub was crowded, buzzing with the energy of Williams team members finally letting loose after a grueling week. Laughter echoed off the wooden beams, glasses clinked, and the occasional burst of cheering from the engineers at the dartboard carried through the room. Franco sat at a high table with James Vowles and a handful of other engineers, a pint of beer in front of him, untouched.

“So there I was,” one of the engineers was saying, his hands gesturing wildly, “under the car, trying to weld the damn thing back together while the rear wing’s hanging on by duct tape—”

James chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Sounds like just another Tuesday.”

Franco forced a smile, but his mind was elsewhere. He could still hear the faint hum of the factory in his head, see the way Y/N’s brow furrowed as she focused on her work. He had no doubt she was still there, surrounded by telemetry data and spreadsheets, hunched over some impossible task to get the car ready for Qatar.

“Franco!” James called, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You’re quiet tonight. That’s not like you.”

Franco shrugged, lifting his pint and taking a sip just to appease him. “Just tired.”

James tilted his head, studying him with a faint smile. “You’ve been spending too much time in the factory. It’ll do that to you.”

“It’s not so bad,” Franco said, setting his glass down. “The coffee is shit though.”

James’s smile grew, but he didn’t press further. Another round of laughter from the group filled the silence, but Franco found himself restless. He glanced at the time on his phone and then at the door.

“Back in a bit,” he said abruptly, grabbing his jacket.

“Running off already?” James teased, but Franco didn’t answer. He was already weaving his way through the crowd, his mind made up.

The factory was eerily quiet when Franco returned, the once-bustling floor now deserted save for the faint hum of machinery. The lights were dimmed, casting long shadows across the empty workstations. He made his way to the telemetry department, navigating the maze of desks and monitors like he belonged there - which, after the past few days, he almost did.

He found her exactly where he expected: sitting at her workstation, her face illuminated by the glow of her screen. Her hair was slightly mussed, one hand absently running through it as she scrolled through what looked like another mountain of data. There was an empty coffee cup on her desk, and a faint crease on her forehead betrayed her exhaustion.

Franco paused, watching her for a moment. She looked so focused, so determined, and it struck him how much effort she poured into her work. Not just effort – her whole heart.

He cleared his throat softly, not wanting to startle her too much. She glanced up, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw him standing there.

“Franco?” she said, setting her stylus down. “What are you doing here? I thought you were at the pub.”

“I was,” he admitted, holding up two brown takeout bags. “But it was boring without someone yelling at me every five minutes.”

Y/N blinked, clearly caught off guard. “And you brought… food?”

“Figured you’d still be here,” he said, stepping closer and setting the bags down on the edge of her desk. “You’ve probably been here all night, haven’t you?”

“I’ve got work to do,” she replied, as though that explained everything.

“Yeah, and you’ve also got to eat,” Franco said, pulling up a chair and sitting down beside her. “So I’m here to make sure you don’t keel over from starvation. You’re welcome, by the way.”

She stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, to his surprise, she let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously thoughtful,” Franco corrected, grinning.

They unpacked the food, and Y/N couldn’t help but appreciate the gesture despite herself. The noodles were still warm, the comforting aroma filling the small space around them. She took a bite, her stomach growling in approval.

“This is surprisingly good,” she admitted, glancing at him.

“You’re welcome,” Franco said, digging into his own container.

For a while, they ate in comfortable silence, the tension between them replaced by an unexpected ease. Franco leaned back in his chair, watching her with a curious expression.

“You really don’t stop, do you?” he asked, nodding toward her screen.

Y/N shrugged, setting her chopsticks down for a moment. “Deadlines don’t stop. Someone has to keep the car running.”

He tilted his head, studying her. “Why do you do it?”

The question caught her off guard. She hesitated, then sighed. “Because it matters. It’s not just about the car—it’s about the people. Everyone here gives their all to make sure we succeed, and I don’t want to let them down.”

Franco nodded slowly, his gaze steady. “You’re really one of a kind, you know.”

Y/N blinked, startled by the sincerity in his voice. “Thanks,” she said softly.

“Seriously,” he added, his voice quieter now. “It’s incredible what you do here.”

She smiled, a faint blush creeping into her cheeks. “It’s not glamorous, but it’s worth it.”

As the meal wound down, Y/N turned back to her screen, scrolling through the data she’d been working on before Franco arrived. Her fingers danced across the keyboard, but her mind wasn’t entirely on the numbers. She could feel him beside her, his presence surprisingly steady and not as intrusive as she would’ve thought a few days ago.

Franco, meanwhile, hadn’t moved. Instead, he pulled his chair closer, resting his elbows on the edge of the desk as he watched her work. The soft glow of the monitor lit her face, highlighting the faint creases on her forehead and the small, almost invisible smudge of grease on her temple.

“You really don’t stop,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Not when there’s this much to do,” she replied without looking at him.

“Still,” he said, his tone quieter now. “You’re doing all of this, late into the night, and you’re not even asking for help.”

Y/N glanced at him, her brows furrowing. “Because there’s no point. If I want it done right, I might as well do it myself.”

Franco tilted his head, his gaze unwavering. “That’s not true. You just don’t let people try.”

Her hands stilled over the keyboard, his words striking deeper than she expected. She turned to him fully, her lips parting as if to argue, but the look in his eyes stopped her. There was no teasing, no arrogance - just genuine concern.

“You don’t have to carry all of it alone,” he said softly.

Her breath hitched, the words lodging themselves in her chest. For a moment, all she could do was stare at him, her mind racing. He was so close now, close enough that she could see the faint stubble on his jaw, the tiredness in his green eyes, and the way his shoulders seemed more relaxed than usual.

“Do you need help?” he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

She blinked, his question pulling her back into the moment. “You? Help with this?”

“I’m serious,” Franco said, his grin reappearing, though it was softer now. “I’m good at following orders. Well, sometimes.”

She smiled faintly, shaking her head. “I appreciate it but highly doubt you’d be any use here.”

“Try me,” he said, leaning forward slightly, his tone playful but laced with something deeper.

Y/N opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, his hand moved toward her. He reached out tentatively, his fingers brushing against her temple as he gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The touch was light, barely there, but it sent a jolt through her all the same.

Her breath caught, and for a moment, time seemed to slow. His hand lingered near her face, his eyes locked on hers with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. The usual sharp retorts and witty comebacks she relied on were suddenly out of reach, replaced by a charged silence that felt heavier with each passing second.

“Franco…” she began, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Just tell me what you need,” he murmured, his tone steady but impossibly soft.

Her heart pounded, her chest tight with a mix of emotions she couldn’t quite name. The walls she’d kept firmly in place all week seemed to crack, piece by piece, under the weight of his gaze.

And then, before she could second-guess herself, she leaned in.

The kiss was slow at first, almost hesitant, her lips brushing against his in a way that felt more like a question than a statement. But the moment his hand came up to cup her jaw, his fingers warm against her skin, the hesitation melted away. She tilted her head, her hands instinctively gripping the front of his jacket to pull him closer.

Franco responded in kind, his lips moving against hers with a surprising gentleness that caught her off guard. There was no urgency, no rush - just a quiet intensity that left her breathless. The air between them crackled with the kind of tension that had been building for days, unspoken and simmering just beneath the surface.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, her breath coming in uneven bursts. Franco was staring at her, his expression a mix of awe and disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite process what had just happened.

“Well,” he said after a moment, his voice huskier than usual. “If I knew takeout was all it took—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted, her voice firm but laced with amusement.

A grin spread across his face, the kind that made his green eyes crinkle at the corners. “Noted.”

Y/N shook her head, but there was no hiding the smile tugging at her lips. She turned back to her screen, though the work in front of her suddenly felt far less urgent. The weight of the week wasn’t gone, but it had shifted, lightened in a way she hadn’t thought possible just hours ago.

Beside her, Franco leaned back in his chair, his presence steady and unassuming. For the first time, Y/N didn’t mind him being there—not in the slightest.

…

The Williams garage in Qatar buzzed with the familiar energy of a race weekend. Mechanics hurried from here to there, engineers huddled around monitors, and the drivers moved through their routines with laser focus. But amidst the usual chaos, Y/N felt strangely at ease - a rare calm she hadn’t experienced in years of working in motorsport.

She stood near the garage entrance, tablet in hand, scrolling through last-minute setup notes for the car. It was a crisp, clear evening, and the desert air carried a cool breeze that contrasted with the heat of the track.

“Looking for me?”

Y/N didn’t even have to turn around. Franco’s voice, smug but undeniably warm, was unmistakable.

“You wish,” she replied without missing a beat, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Franco stepped into her peripheral vision, his race suit unzipped and hanging around his waist. His green eyes sparkled under the fluorescent paddock lights. “Well, if you weren’t, I’m a little disappointed.”

She finally looked up, tilting her head. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on the race? You know, doing the thing we all worked so hard to make possible?”

“I am focused,” he said, leaning casually against the wall. “Just… multitasking. Driver prep and talking with my favorite engineer - it’s all about balance.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though her smile didn’t fade. “If you’re trying to charm me, it’s not working.”

“Who says I’m trying?” Franco countered, his grin widening.

Y/N shook her head, turning back to her tablet. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah,” Franco said, his voice softer now, “but you kind of like that about me.”

Y/N snorted softly, pretending to focus on the setup notes. “Delusional as ever.”

Franco leaned in closer, his voice dropping slightly. “Call it what you want, but I think I’m growing on you.”

She tilted her head, arching a brow. “More like you’re wearing me down.”

“Same thing,” he said with a grin, stepping back slightly but not leaving.

“You ready for this?” she asked, breaking the silence.

Franco shrugged, his grin softening into something more earnest. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

She studied him for a beat, noting the slight tension in his posture and the way his fingers tapped lightly against his thigh. Beneath the bravado, there was a trace of nerves—small, but there.

“Hey,” she said, lowering her tablet and meeting his gaze. “You’ll be fine. You’ve got this.”

Franco’s eyes softened, and for a moment, his usual smirk faded. “Coming from you, that actually means a lot.”

“Good,” Y/N said simply, her lips curving into a small smile.

The sound of an engine roaring to life in the garage snapped them both back to reality. Franco straightened, tugging at the collar of his race suit and exhaling deeply.

“Guess that’s my cue,” he said, his voice softer this time, though there was still a faint smile playing on his lips.

Y/N didn’t look up from her tablet, her fingers flying over the screen as she reviewed another set of setup notes. “Good. Try to avoid the barriers, would you?”

Franco chuckled quietly, stepping closer until he was just beside her. “You always know how to motivate me, don’t you?”

She finally glanced up, tilting her head. “Do you really need a speech? The car’s ready, the data’s solid, and you’re…” She paused, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “You’re as ready as you’ll ever be.”

“That almost sounded supportive,” Franco said, his grin warming.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Y/N replied, shaking her head lightly before looking back at her screen.

Franco lingered, his hands resting lightly on the edge of her desk. “You know, you could just wish me good luck. It’d be nice to hear.”

Y/N sighed theatrically but set her tablet down, looking up at him again. “Fine. Good luck, Franco. Now go make it count.”

His smile softened, and for a moment, he seemed to hesitate. Then, with a quick glance toward the bustling garage behind them, he leaned down and kissed her—a quick, warm kiss that caught her completely off guard.

From across the garage, a few engineers burst into laughter and cheers. “Woo, Colapinto!” someone shouted, and another voice chimed in, “About time!”

Y/N’s face flushed instantly as she pulled back, her eyes wide. “Franco—”

“Hey, they said it, not me,” Franco said with a small laugh, holding his hands up as if to plead innocence. But his voice had softened even more now, his gaze lingering on her with something closer to gratitude. “You look cute with those red cheeks.”

She blinked, her blush deepening, but she managed to recover quickly enough. “You’re lucky I have work to do, or I’d make you regret that.”

“You’ll miss me out there,” he teased gently, stepping back toward the car. He turned just before climbing in, his grin more genuine now. “I’ll make sure your hard work shines.”

Y/N shook her head, picking up her tablet again to distract herself from the lingering warmth on her cheeks. As the car rolled out of the garage, she caught herself smiling - just for a moment - before diving back into her work.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath, though there was no mistaking the fondness in her tone.

#f1 x reader #fc43 x reader #franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto fanfic #f1 fanfic #formula one

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orlaunderrated · 6 days ago

Text

The Edges of Us: Chapter 24

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Will Lenney x fem reader; George Clarke x fem reader

Summary: Y/N has always been close to George—but everything changes when she catches feelings for his sharp-tongued, infuriatingly charming friend, Will. Torn between loyalty and desire, Y/N finds herself caught in a messy tangle of friendship, secrets, and unexpected love.

Word Count: 7.4k+

Note: GUYS i promise we will be rid of george soon!! not yet tho.

RQ- taglist friends, does my taglist work?

also this is based off the video Youtubers control what Sidemen eat for a day bc it features both Will and George ands its one of the few recent-er sidemen sundays i go back and rewatch. It makes me giggle that george is wearing a white fox hoodie?? idk if its just an australian thing but i think whitefox is like exclusively for the girlies who do pilaties or like, if you are 12.

Also i know it makes no sense in this timeline but just... suspend disbelief i beg/

xxx

George wasn’t kidding.

I wake up to 17.2k followers.

Seventeen thousand, two hundred people. Watching. Scrolling. Lurking.

My brain doesn’t register it at first — I open Instagram out of habit, thumb-heavy and half-asleep — but then I see the number at the top of the screen and freeze.

“Seventeen?” I whisper, like maybe I’ve hallucinated it.

It’s the premiere photo. The one George’s manager posted without warning — me and him on the carpet, posed like we’re something. She tagged me. Just like he said she would.

Thank you to @AnActionMovie for having us at the premiere night ft. the best one @y/f/n.html

The comments are chaos:

“wait she’s GORGEOUS 🔥” “the soft launch is over lads” “who is she??” “PR relationship?? be serious” “guys stop being weird she’s just a person” "I think they're just friends" “she’s kind of giving tbh 👀” “not what I imagined but ok 💔” “nah she’s from the old uni tiktoks I swear” “this ain’t it 😭” “you’re all just mad she’s not you lol” "guys in the interview he said they're best mates"

People are deep-diving.

Proper CSI: Instagram.

They’ve gone through every tagged photo, every ancient highschool and uni upload. Someone found a 2018 picture of me on our Exeter kitchen floor, hoodie stained with ramen, George behind me laughing with his hand in my hair. We weren’t even close then.

There’s another photo — grainy, awkward — and I blink at it like I’m seeing a ghost.

“Is that from my mum’s Facebook??” I mutter.

The one where I’m wearing that awful jumper with the weird sleeves, sitting cross-legged on a couch like a lost kid. There's like ten other people in the photo, but George and I are sat next to eachoter. His arm is around mine lazily, and im leaning into the other guy beside me.

I think me and the other guy were dating? Or had been on a date? I don’t remember.

I don’t even remember posting it. But someone screenshot it and reposted it on TikTok with a caption like “she's been there since day one.” and some trending love song behind it.

I nearly dropped my phone.

There are edits now. Slideshow reels. Sad music. People drawing heart-shaped arrows over our shoulders just barely touching. Narratives forming out of nothing.

“they were so lowkey for so long… the real ones always are 💍” “he’s BEEN in love with her don’t lie” “they just look like they get each other 🥺” "He said theyre just friends to protect her, I can'tttttt"

And I can’t stop thinking —

You lot have no idea.

You don’t know about the years I spent watching him fall for other people. You didn’t see the way he hesitated when I kissed him. Or how small I felt when he introduced me at the premiere, and didn’t call me his girlfriend.

But TikTok has decided we’re soulmates.

So now there are fan edits of my face.

One of them ends with a blurry photo of George looking at me — I don’t even remember the moment — and the caption:

“when he looks at you like that… it’s already over for him 🫶”

I laugh. Sharp and quiet.

Because yeah. Maybe he does look at me like that.

And maybe I look like someone who he's certain about.

But I’m not.

I scroll through my grid. Past the food photos, the sunsets, the filler. Down to the soft launch.

Will’s hand around a coffee cup. Our shadows on a brick footpath. A jar of olives in my kitchen, filtered warm and captioned “lately”.

God, what was I even doing? I had 300 followers. Who was I soft-launching to — Ruth? My Dad?

The whole thing feels laughable now. Like a bad joke from a version of me that thought posting him would make it real. That soft-launching a situationship counted for something.

I archive them all.

Poof. Gone.

Like he was never there.

Now it’s just me, in a cheap dress, next to George Clarkey.

No Will. No context. No truth. Just vibes.

@y/f/n.html 17.9k followers. And apparently, a fandom.

Ruth texts me:

you’re famous now. you have a fandom

Also girl we need to hang out, I haven't seen you in forever.

I want to laugh. Or cry. Or lie face down in a lake.

Mainly about this whole mess but also about not seeing Ruth. That does suck.

Instead, I whisper to my pillow:

“All I am is George Clarkey’s girlfriend — and he can’t even say that.”

It still sounds made up. Still feels like a bit someone wrote for me.

But online — in the comments, the tags, the edits — it’s true.

And somehow, it feels more official than anything he’s ever actually said.

I check one last comment before closing the app:

“she soft-launched this man before any of us were even born 💀”

And honestly?

Yeah. Maybe I did.

xxx

I’m staring at the of my bedroom, the faint hum of London traffic filtering through the window. Today’s the day they scheduled that IT maintenance at work, which means—by some cruel twist of fate—I have a whole free day. A day George immediately hijacks.

Come on, he texts me again for the third time, like a kid trying to convince their mum. You’ll love it. Sidemen shoot. Big fun day out.

I roll my eyes but don’t reply. George’s world — bright, loud, chaotic — is a universe away from mine, with its neat lines of code and endless debugging. I get the appeal, I really do, but it’s exhausting trying to keep up with his enthusiasm for a job I barely understand.

I begrudgingly agree.

When he shows up at the flat, half an hour later, I’m still in my pajamas, nursing a lukewarm coffee and trying to remind myself why I even agreed.

He’s in my hoodie, which makes me giggle without meaning to.

Why is this insanely handsome man — YouTube-famous, public-facing, probably-recognised-at-airports — wearing my oversized navy White Fox hoodie? It's a brand aggressively marketed to women who do Pilates and drink green juice, not… George.

Well, oversized on me. On him, it fits like it was made for him. Stretched just right across the shoulders, sleeves rolled to the forearms like he’s done this a hundred times.

I want to call him out on it, but it feels very… boyfriendy, even though its usually the other way around. I just giggle at it.

“You should come,” George says, like it’s the best idea in the world. “It’s fun. And who knows — maybe it’ll get you an in to a job or something.”

I raise an eyebrow, setting my mug down. “George, I’ve told you, I have a job, I don’t need a job.”

He grins, undeterred. “But you have an audience now, YN. People want more of you.”

“Okay...?” I say, sceptical. Not sure where this is going. I have an audience now because I'm his girlfriend, not because I'm interesting.

He shrugs, a cocky smirk playing at his lips. “Fine, fine. But you’re still coming. I want to show you off.”

I stare at him for a second — half amused, half exasperated. Typical George. Can’t take no for an answer. But maybe... maybe it won’t be so bad.

I set my mug down, sighing. Maybe it won’t be so bad. I get up, pull on something less like pyjamas and more like “I’m-not-entirely-reluctant,” then grab my coat and follow him out the door, London’s grey morning swallowing us whole.

It’s a different language — his world of clicks and takes and viral videos — and mine of silent coding marathons. Sometimes it feels like we’re orbiting two different planets, and I’m the one who keeps trying to land on his.

But I give in, because... maybe I’m still trying to find somewhere I belong with him. With us. Somewhere I’m not just YN who uses weird slang, or George’s weird friend with a 9-5.

And no, his flat doesn’t count.

Xxx

The shoot is set in a swanky apartment building — the kind of place with floor-to-ceiling windows that give you that impossible city view. Inside, it’s like an art installation meets a tech warehouse. They’ve got three different filming setups scattered across the space, each one loaded with gear. Cameras on rigs, lightboxes humming softly in the corners, stabilizers mounted on poles.

It’s organized chaos — but somehow, it all comes together in this frantic, effortless rhythm. Everyone’s constantly moving, setting up, packing down, getting ready to shift to the next shot. And then there are the handheld cameras, getting ready to capture all the action on the go. Cameramen booting up their cameras, ready for a day of racing from one angle to the next like the scene might break into a chase at any moment.

It reminds me of Will’s studio. God, I haven’t been there in months. The thought catches me off guard — part nostalgia, part something tighter in my chest.

There’s a soft buzz in the air, but it’s a happy kind of busy. Nobody looks stressed — just focused, moving fast, like everyone knows exactly what they need to do. Someone’s furiously writing on a colourful spinning wheel prop, bright markers flying across the glossy surface. Nearby, a young woman balances a precarious amount of takeaway coffee cups, in her hands, handing out orders with practiced ease, the scent of espresso mingling with the faint hum of camera motors.

Voices overlap: quiet instructions, laughter, the occasional burst of excitement when a mic starts working again. The air smells faintly of electronics and takeaway food — the strange perfume of content creation in progress.

George is already weaving through the crowd, his easy confidence a sharp contrast to my own uncertainty. He grabs my hand, pulling me along as he chats with a couple of crew members. “See? This is the magic,” he says, eyes bright. “You could be right here, doing this. It’s a whole world.”

I nod, trying to ignore the blatant disregard for what I’ve said a million times. Just imagine myself fitting in here, he says — like it’s that easy. But all I can think about is Will. I didn’t even ask if he was going to be here today. Why would he be, right?

I hate that I still think of him sometimes. I'm literally in a happy relationship, why does the ghost of a northerner who doesn’t like me haunt my air?

George is pulling me around, introducing me to the crew and Sidemen, but my attention flickers from person to person, trying to keep up. I recognise Harry, he's over at the flat a lot. I think him and Chris are quite close. Then, out of nowhere, a familiar voice cuts through the hum of conversation.

“Mate!” Chris calls, his voice loud and full of that easy energy that always makes me smile.

I spin around, heart skipping. “Oh my God, Chris is here!” I say, genuinely excited. I’ve missed his presence here—he’s one of the few people I actually feel comfortable around.

But then my eyes catch movement beyond Chris. There, leaning casually against a table, is Will. Quarter-zip hoodie, black cap, hands shoved in his pockets, smirking like he owns the place. He’s joking with one Ieuan, totally relaxed.

Oh my goodness, Ieuan! God today is just full of nostalgia for an era of my life that wasn’t even six months ago. Crazy how things change. I totally forgot he does freelance stuff for the Sidemen.

Will and I lock eyes from across the room.

Suddenly, the noise around me fades, as if the world has pulled a curtain between us and everyone else. No words pass between us, but something coils tight inside my chest — a strange, aching knot of surprise, unfinished stories, and a ghost of warmth I thought I’d buried long ago.

Will leans back against the table, arms crossed, that infuriating smirk curling on his lips like he’s daring me to unravel. It’s the kind of smirk that carries all the weight of unspoken things — apologies I never got, regrets we never shared, and a thousand things left unsaid.

A smirk? Oh, that bastard.

I meet his gaze and hold it, though every breath feels heavy, like I’m standing on the edge of something I’m not sure I want to face again. It’s as if the silence between us is screaming with all the words we never dared say.

There’s history there — sharp, raw, and tangled — and in that moment, I’m not sure if I want to step closer or run away.

Chris turns his head, following the direction of Will’s gaze, and his eyes land on me. A wide grin spreads across his face. “YN!” he calls out, his voice carrying easily over the background noise. “Great to see you! Enjoying the newfound fame, yeah?”

His tone is light, teasing — the kind of banter that usually makes me smile. But right now, it feels oddly hollow, like a spotlight shining on everything I’m trying to ignore.

I force a smile, feeling the weight of a thousand eyes I don’t actually see. Fame. Audience. The whole package George keeps hinting at but that still feels like some other life.

Chris claps me on the shoulder, warmth and familiarity in the gesture. “Seriously though, it’s good to have you here.”

I nod, trying to match his easy confidence, but my eyes flicker back to Will — still leaning against the table, smirk in place, watching me like I’m a puzzle he’s still trying to figure out.

He used to look at me like that, way back when; before our summer romance, when everything was falling apart and he’d pull me out of my spiral just by showing up. Back when we pretended to hate each other so well, you’d think we’d nailed a rom-com script.

Too bad I can’t hate him now. Not that I haven’t tried. But I do hate that smirk. I just want to wipe that smug look off his face. Like, make it disappear.

Poof, gone.

That look? It’s got history. It's messy, complicated, and way too familiar. And it’s poking at something in me I’d hoped was long dead.

Chris, oblivious to the silent tension stretching between us, keeps chatting, “You getting used to all the attention? I bet George is proud.”

George’s grip tightens ever so slightly on my shoulder, and I realize he’s been watching too. To be honest I didn’t even realise he was behind me, or even still holding onto me for that matter.

I force a smile. “Yeah, just... caught me off guard. I didn’t expect to get 30k followers in a week.”

George nudges me gently. “Come on, I want to introduce you to someone.”

He steers me through the crowd, stopping beside a guy crouched over a camera rig like it’s something sacred.

“This is Daniel,” George says. “He’s one of the tech guys. No, sorry, The tech guy—audio, cameras, whatever’s broken.”

Daniel looks up and offers a small smile, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He seems cool, in a nerdy, quiet sort of way. The kind of guy who probably owns one T-shirt in ten shades and calls it a wardrobe.

His T-shirt is plain, olive green, slightly wrinkled. The kind of shirt you don’t think twice about — unless, of course, you’re wearing it every day in different colours.

“Hey,” Daniel says, voice a little soft but friendly. “Welcome to the circus.”

I smile, already liking him more than most of the loud YouTuber energy in the room. There’s something grounding about someone who clearly knows exactly who they are — even if it’s a guy in the same shirt forever.

George gets pulled away to get mic’d up and I’m left next to Daniel, who’s quietly adjusting levels on a monitor, his brow furrowed in that very specific tech-guy way that says do not disturb unless you're on fire.

After a beat, he glances at me. “So… are you interested in the Technical Producer or Production Assistant gig?”

I blink. “Uh. No? Neither, sorry. I think there's been a misunderstanding.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Really? You’ve been recommended by, like, six people already.”

I squint at him, surprised. “By who?”

Daniel counts casually on his fingers. “Let’s see… George, obviously. Chris, Orla and Abbey who are producers in this kinda space" He cringes at his own words, which makes me fee better for also cringing, "And, um… Ieuan, over there” He nods towards the door, where Ieuan is probably still standing. Daniel pauses, like he knows he’s saving the best for last. “Will.”

My stomach does something stupid. “Will?” I ask, because I need to hear it again to believe it. “Will recommended me?”

Daniel nods, not picking up on the spiral beginning to form behind my eyes. “Yeah. Last week, I think? He said you’d be a good fit. Systems thinker, but, you know—people-smart, too. His words.”

My brain short-circuits for a second. Last week. Last week? After all of this — after the silence. After the distance. After… George.

I nod slowly, trying to keep my face neutral. “Huh.”

It’s all I can manage.

I think of Orla and Abbey, too. I haven’t seen them in ages — not properly. I sort of knew them through Will’s shoots, always in the background with clipboards and inside jokes, making everything run without getting the credit. They were funny, in that not-meaning-to-be, blink-and-you-miss-it way. I liked them. I miss them. I didn’t realise how much until now.

One of them always had a KitKat for me in the studio fridge. The kind of quiet kindness that never really goes unnoticed. Ever.

“So can I tell you about the job anyway?” Daniel asks, slouching back onto a folding chair and picking up a tablet. “I’ve got nothing else to do.”

I shrug. “Sure. Knock yourself out.” I sit down next to him in another folding chair. I wish I had any idea why someone has brough folding chairs to a hotel room but I ignore it.

Daniel launches into it — first the Production Assistant role: coordinating shoot schedules, troubleshooting gear, keeping people caffeinated and alive. Then the Technical Producer one: overseeing multi-cam setups, automating post workflows, optimizing file storage like a digital wizard.

And honestly? It sounds cool. Like, annoyingly cool. Like maybe-a-version-of-me-would-love-this kind of cool. Especially the part where he casually mentions he wrote a script to batch-sync audio and everyone acted like he’d just invented fire.

I’m nodding along before I realise it. And then I stop myself.

“Anyway,” he finishes, “it’s flexible hours, lots of learning, and you basically get to make chaos look clean.”

I cross my arms. “Thanks… but no.”

Daniel blinks. “Really?”

“Yeah. I just… it’s not me.”

It could be me. I know that. But I don’t know if I want it to be. I don’t want to be another one of Will’s orbiting moons. Or George’s little project. Or the girl everyone already made a decision about before I said anything.

Daniel just grins, not taking it personally. “Fair enough. Still — if you change your mind, I’m on Insta and George has my number.”

I give him a tight smile. “Noted.”

xxx

They’ve started filming now — I can hear the laughter and shouting echoing in from the patio. A mix of voices, some familiar, others just noise. From where I’m standing near the monitors, I catch glimpses of them through the sliding glass doors. Everyone’s huddled around the spinning wheel, hyped up and jostling for position like it’s the most important thing in the world.

Will’s out there, tucked into the crowd. He doesn’t say much, at least not from what I can hear. He’s just… present. Not the loudest. Not trying to be. Just a steady presence, like he’s been doing this long enough that he doesn’t need to force anything anymore.

George is there too, off to the side — smiling when the camera hits him, but otherwise a little distant. Same vibe. I guess they’re guests here? Or semi-regulars? I honestly have no clue how any of this works. Who’s in charge, who decides what, who actually makes the magic happen.

I’m not sure if that makes it all more intriguing or more alienating.

There’s a sudden burst of cheering — the wheel lands on something?— and I watch as they all disperse. They all laugh like this is normal. Like this is work.

It’s chaos. But it’s a kind of chaos people seem to belong to.

I wonder what that’s like.

George appears beside me like he always does — suddenly, like a thought I didn’t know I was having. He’s got that stupid lopsided grin on, cheeks a little flushed from the sun or the attention or both.

“Do you want to stay here or tag along?” he asks, already bouncing on his heels. “We’ve got to go find an Indian restaurant.”

I blink at him. “What?”

Before I can string together a proper What the ever loving fuck is your job and who is ‘we’?, he flings an arm around my shoulders and starts guiding me toward the hallway.

“You’ll love it,” he says, like I’ve agreed. “We’re filming a video where other youtubers have picked our meals and we've been given a stupidly hot curry — classic stitched-up content. And I want you there when I can't handle myself. Solidarity.”

“Is that what your career is now? Vague chaos and takeaway?”

He laughs. “Basically.”

We wind through the suite, dodging tripods and energy drink cans, and I feel his arm tighten slightly around me — casual, but possessive in a way that makes butterflies erupt in my stomach.

He's showing me off, like he said he wanted to.

xxx

The next few hours pass in a blur. I trail behind George, Harry, and Tobi (who’s actually lovely) as they lime bike across a busy road, nearly getting clipped by a car. The camera crew stays calm, filming like it’s just another Tuesday. I guess I’m part of the crew now too—following them to a restaurant, watching mic levels, lights, notes being scribbled in frantic shorthand.

When the cameras cut, someone says we can talk, so I do. Small conversations spark with the others—friendly enough, though I’ve forgotten every name already. Someone asks where I’m from. I say Brisbane. They blink like I’ve made it up.

I launch into my usual defence. Third biggest city. Real place, I swear. Somehow, I spiral into a monologue about Brisbane’s doomed attempt at introducing lime bikes, scooters abandoned in the river, helmets bobbing in the current.

I catch myself mid-sentence and cringe. I’ve become that person—rambling about a hometown like I’m desperate to prove it matters.

Later, I’m outside the restaurant, waiting for the next setup. The sound guy’s next to me, launching into a pitch about his job. Apparently, I’d love it. “Tech nerd’s dream,” he says.

I don't really know how to explain that I'm good with code, not like, the hardware. Although I could definitely figure it out.

Whatever this is, it’s strange. Everyone’s so enthusiastic about their roles, their world. And for some reason, they seem determined to pull me into it.

George, or someone, has talked me up way too much.

xxx

We’re back at the hotel now, where the second filming space has been set up. It looks almost identical to the first—cameras, wires, lights scattered in that chaotic-but-controlled way I’m starting to recognize as their trademark. There’s a lull in the action, a waiting game until two other teams return so we can move on.

George tells me this is how the rest of the day will go: filming, waiting, filming again. An endless cycle of motion.

For all the times Will goes on about how hard he works (and look, I know he does), days like this make me wonder if he really knows what hard work feels like. It’s like they’re all just there, floating from one setup to the next, not really doing anything beyond making it look like work.

And yet, I get it. I see why George likes this world—the chaos, the momentum. It suits him. When I look at him now, in his element, I feel so happy for him. I’ve always said I’m glad he ended up doing this instead of whatever he was planning with that sports and exercise science degree.

I try not to look when Will’s team walks back in, all animated over burgers—or something equally irrelevant. There’s a rhythm to them, like they’ve been doing this dance for years.

I spot Daniel, perched in his fold-out chair. He gives me a lazy wave. I drop into the seat next to him, suddenly hyper-aware of how out of place I am in this world.

"So, whose your favourite Sideman?" I joke, my voice light as I glance at the frenetic scene around us. Daniel barely looks up from his iPad, just tapping away between glances.

“Josh,” he says, without missing a beat. “His videos have let me travel all over Europe.”

“Huh,” I murmur. “I don’t even know which one that is.”

Daniel huffs a soft laugh, clearly not expecting that answer.

"So, is George your boyfriend?" he asks, a little too casually, as if it’s the simplest question in the world.

I blink, taken aback. We still haven’t really talked about it—George and I, I mean. Not the way we should have, at least. “Yeah,” I answer, keeping my tone neutral. “It’s pretty new though.”

I should probably feel bad, or like, weird about that. About proclaiming a title when we haven't talked about it. But like, come on. I've known the man a million years and we haven't spend a full 24 hours apart since my birthday.

Before Daniel can say anything else, the teams are dispersing again, rushing out the door in a blur. I barely catch sight of George—his girly-ass hoodie a bright flash in the chaos—before he’s already gone.

Oh.

Daniel looks over at me, a glint in his eye. “Come with me,” he says, standing up. “I’m heading out with Josh.”

“Is that by design?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Yup,” he grins.

What he doesn’t mention is that Josh’s team is also Will’s team. And Vik’s. But the only one I really care about is Will.

Daniel’s not weird about it. He gives me a smile. I guess he would have no idea what he's just put me in, but also these people all seem really well connected. But then starts chatting with Vik about DJing. Seriously, what are their lives?

I follow them out, trying not to look like I’m not hopelessly lost.

Xxx

We’re on the hunt for a Burger King. I say we, but really, I just did a quick Google search and let someone else take charge. They walk in the wrong direction, and I don’t even bother correcting them. I’m too distracted.

Will’s in the back of the group, making his usual jokes about how many patties can fit on one burger, and I tune him out, just letting the conversation wash over me. We’re walking with purpose, though. Heading toward that fast food salvation that’s a lot further away than it should be. I can hear the talent behind us—loud, laughing, teasing—but I can’t see them. At the front, Daniel’s walking backwards, his camera rolling like he’s done this a million times before. He’s somehow making it look easy.

“Right, so,” Will says, suddenly cutting through the chatter. “I was supposed to go on a date the other day, yeah?”

My stomach does a weird dip. God, why do I feel like this?

For some reason, I can’t shake the feeling that this story is going to go somewhere I don’t want it to. So, I do what I always do—ignore it, move on, keep walking ahead like nothing’s wrong. But my ears are glued to his voice now.

“Fitness lass, met on Hinge, yada yada,” Will continues, completely unaware that I’m spiraling inside.

The boys react with a chorus of “Nice!” and “Cool!” But I can’t focus on that. I’m too busy trying to keep my face neutral, pretending I don’t care about the fact that this girl is not me.

Daniel, still walking backwards with his camera, is completely tuned into Will’s story, capturing every second of this casual banter. It feels like something is building, and I know better than anyone how this goes. Will’s never just telling a random story. There’s always a punchline waiting to hit you when you least expect it.

“So, our first date’s at the gym, right? And I’m waiting around, waiting for this girl…”

Oh, I know where this is going. I feel it in my chest, like my heart knows exactly what’s coming before he even says it. The feeling in my stomach (I refuse to call it jealousy) subsides. This is a setup, a joke.

“It’s like 7 PM, then it’s 7:20, she still hasn’t shown up.” He pauses for effect, letting the words settle.

A soft ‘nooooo’ comes from Vik. Everyone else is hanging on Will’s every word, like it’s the most entertaining thing they’ve heard all day.

But me? I know exactly what’s coming next.

“It gets to 8, and I’m like, fuck it, man…”

“You waited an hour?!” Vik’s voice cracks, somewhere between disbelief and amusement.

“Yeah,” Will says, smiling that smirk of his, the one that makes me want to throw something at him, but also kiss him, but mostly throw something at him. “And that’s how I knew we were never gonna work out.”

There it is. The punchline. The bit where I’m supposed to laugh, but instead, I feel like I’ve just been handed a riddle and solved it before anyone else has figured it out.

A blush creeps up my neck and onto my cheeks. It’s stupid, really. But I can’t help it. I’m too aware of the fact that, while I’m stuck here walking with Daniel, trying not to act like an idiot, I can still read William like a book.

I want to roll my eyes and tell him how predictable he is, that I could see that coming a mile away. But I don’t. Instead, I just try to act normal. Like I’m not dying inside, cringing at the insane situation I've gotten myself in. Pretending I'm not walking next someone with a giant camera pointed at a guy who once made me cum three times and then snuck off to play FIFA when he thought I was asleep.

xxx

I don’t really know how it happened, but now we’re in a Burger King, and I’m watching three grown men try to eat a burger with ten burger patties stacked high like a meat skyscraper. I’m standing off to the side, nursing a Coke that’s already gone flat, while I try not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

Will cracks some crude joke, the kind that’s only funny because it’s so absurdly blunt, and Josh fires back with a joke about Will being single. I’m half-tempted to chime in with, “He chose to be,” but I don’t. It feels like it would just come off wrong. My humor’s not that sharp, and I’d probably just sound bitter.

But no one can leave well enough alone. There’s the obligatory "your mum" joke, followed by a round of digs at Will’s accent — the whole gang going off, trying to make him squirm. Will’s looking so over it. But honestly? It’s seems like just a part of the rhythm of their friendship.

Then, of course, Will loses an 'odds on', and like a goddamn man on a mission, Josh shoves a bunch of meat into Will's jean pockets. Like, what? This man is literally hiding beef in his pants, and everyone just goes with it like this is a normal Tuesday.

Yeah, sure. He works hard. Whatever that means. I’m starting to wonder if I’m missing some crucial part of this entire... whatever the hell this is.

Daniel’s right there, camera in hand, zooming in on Will’s hands as he folds the flat beef into his pockets like it’s his job. Now he works hard. I snicker to myself, watching him, because this is ridiculous. Yet, somehow, it’s also kind of fun— the weird banter, the camaraderie, the absurdity.

Xxx

We’re walking back to the hotel, the afternoon air just crisp enough to cut through the chaos of the day. My brain is still buzzing from the weirdness of the Burger King fiasco, but it’s quieter now, the kind of quiet that makes everything feel just a little too loud. The crew’s talking behind us, moving in their own world, and I’m stuck somewhere in between.

I’m walking beside Will, trailing behind the group, and the space between us feels... heavy. Like there’s something unsaid, but nothing I can put my finger on. We’re both moving forward, but neither of us is looking at the other. I can hear the chatter ahead of us, but it’s just us in this little bubble of silence.

Will turns to look behind him, and sees me. He slows down, now walking alongside me.

“So,” Will starts, voice softer than I expect, “you and George, huh?”

I don’t know why I’m surprised he’s asking. Of course, he would ask. But it still makes my stomach drop a little. It’s not even that I’m worried what he’ll think. It’s more that I don’t know what I think.

I keep my voice even, trying to sound casual, but I know it’s not fooling anyone — least of all myself. “Yeah.”

Will nods slowly, like he’s digesting the answer, but doesn’t say anything else for a second. I keep walking, trying not to look at him, but my mind is all over the place.

Then, almost as if he’s said it a hundred times before, he mutters, “I’m happy for ya, man.”

The words hit me hard, but not in the way I expect. It’s so... casual. So normal. Like it’s no big deal. Like he’s just handing me some kind of peace offering after everything that’s happened. And my brain immediately goes to, What the fuck?

I can’t help myself. I have to ask. “Really?” The word leaves my mouth before I can stop it.

Will’s hands are jammed deep in his pockets, his head tilted slightly as he looks at me. “Yeah,” he says, all nonchalance. “You’re a good fit for him.” His eyes flicker away from me, like maybe he didn’t mean to say it, like he’s trying to make it less personal.

But I don’t buy it.

The thing is — and I can’t shake this thought — he doesn’t get to act like nothing happened. He doesn’t get to just pop back into my life and offer me compliments like he hasn’t straight-up ghosted me for weeks. Like he didn’t leave me hanging, confused and pissed off, wondering if I’d imagined everything we shared.

But then again, I want him to. I miss him and his team, that much is evident. I want to be his mate again.

"I’m happy for you," he says.

The words feel like they’ve been scraped off some script. They don’t sound real. Not in the way I want them to, anyway. Not in the way they should, not when everything between us has been such a mess.

I don’t know what to say back.

What am I supposed to say? Thanks for ghosting me by the way, really appreciate the support?

My chest tightens and I struggle to keep my voice steady, trying to pretend that I’m not caught off guard, that I’m not hurt by the way he’s acting like nothing ever happened. Like he never spent months avoiding me after… after everything.

"Um, yeah. Thanks. It’s going well." My voice is thin, almost too small for the size of the ache in my chest.

Josh calls out to Will, pulling him away for more content, and just like that, he’s off again, that familiar grin plastered on his face, as if I didn’t just feel a thousand emotions all at once.

That smile. That grin. What the hell does he want from me?

I’m stuck in this weird limbo—somewhere between wanting to scream at him for being so damn cold, and wanting to crawl into a hole, pretend I never cared, and go back to being besties. Just us, laughing over a pint like we didn’t spend three months tangled up in each other’s lives.

I watch him walk off, forcing myself to take a breath, feeling like I’ve just been sucker-punched. My heart feels like it's stuck in my throat, a sharp, desperate ache for something I can’t quite name.

And maybe that’s it. Maybe that’s the whole problem—because it’s not even about Will, not really. It’s about George.

It always comes back to George.

But I can’t be mad at Will for being the distraction I needed to forget George. And I can’t be mad at George for finally figuring himself out in time to make us work.

Right now, I need to focus. I need to push everything down, keep it hidden, just like I always do.

But it’s hard. God, it’s hard.

Xxx

My kitchen smells like garlic and olive oil—the kind of comfort food you make when you’re avoiding anything too serious. But with George, it’s hard not to think. He’s constantly touching me—light, casual, steady—and every time, it sends a spark down my spine.

One hand on my back while I chop vegetables, the other resting on my hip as he leans in to scan the stovetop. It’s not overtly possessive. Just... consistent. Lazy, soft, and close enough that I’m always within reach.

And I don’t mind. Not even a little.

“How was your day?” he asks, casual, like he hasn’t spent all evening orbiting around me.

He reaches for the pasta, and I just watch him, wondering how he makes everything feel so easy.

“Josh's group was… interesting,” I say, cutting the carrots a bit too aggressively, trying not to sound annoyed he left me alone with people I didn’t know. “They were a mess. But funny.”

George pauses at the pantry, attention flicking back to me. “You were with Will?”

I don’t look up, just keep slicing. “Yeah, Daniel brought me along with that group. I met Vik too.”

“Oh, cool,” he says, too lightly. “Heard Will got beef on his retainers.”

I let out a short laugh despite myself. “Yeah. He wouldn’t shut up about it. ‘Look at me, I’m a grown man with braces.’”

For a moment, I think George might ask something more. Something real. But he doesn’t. He just stirs the sauce, that soft smile still on his face, like everything’s fine.

His hand brushes my shoulder, lingering. It should feel exciting. Inviting. But I’m suddenly numb to the touch. My head’s somewhere else—caught between Will’s weird non-distance and George’s too-cool charm.

“You were really funny today,” I say, trying to shift the mood.

“Funny, huh?” He grins like he knows exactly where I’m going.

I nod. “Especially when you were all in the bath together.” I laugh. “Oh! And Chris had to eat that Vegemite —I can’t believe I missed that. He must’ve hated it.”

George chuckles, a low sound that makes my chest tighten. He’s still standing too close. Too familiar. It’s all starting to feel too complicated.

“What is it with you and Chris and the Vegemite obsession?” he asks.

I shrug, dropping the knife and turning to face him. “It’s just a thing we do. He mocks me for liking Vegemite, I insist it’s the same as Marmite, then we argue. Truth is—I don’t even like Vegemite.”

His grin softens, eyes lingering just a bit too long. There’s something there. Something real.

“You’re wearing my hoodie,” I say, quieter than I mean to.

“Mm.” He tugs the sleeves over his hands. “I was cold.”

It feels intimate. More than he probably realizes. Something familiar I never imagined on him, no matter how many times I’ve tossed it his way during sleepovers or hangouts.

“So,” George says, and I feel it—the shift. He’s about to dig again. “How’s the job going? Still happy?”

The tension spikes. My mouth goes dry. This again?

“Please,” I say, too sharp, setting the knife down. “Just drop it.”

His brow furrows. “What? Why?”

“I didn’t move to London to join your world, George. I came here to be a good programmer.”

He blinks, confused. “But you’re miserable at your job. I’m just... I’m trying to help.”

I want to snap—tell him he doesn’t get it, that not everyone wants to be pulled into a life that isn’t theirs, just because they can be good at it. But instead, I breathe.

“I never asked for your help,” I say, slow but firm. “Just let me be good at what I do.”

A pause. He drops his gaze, fingers tracing the edge of the countertop.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, almost too quietly, as though the words don’t want to leave his mouth. He looks up at me, his face soft, his eyes searching mine like he’s trying to figure out whether he’s truly crossed a line. The apology feels raw — not forced or rehearsed, just genuine. "I just want you to be happy, YN."

I swallow hard, trying to steady the flutter in my chest. He’s standing so close, his presence almost too much to bear, and I can’t tell if it's the apology or the way his hand is lingering in the air between us that's knocking the breath out of me.

The truth is, I am happy. So unbelievably happy. I’ve finally gotten George Clarke to love me. Or at least, to start loving me, in his own way. His constant proximity to me — the little touches, the way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not paying attention — it all tells me something I’ve been waiting for, something I’m not sure I’m ready to admit to myself. But it feels like he’s on the edge of something. Maybe I’m just hoping it’s more than it is, but it doesn’t matter, because I’m here. With him. And that’s enough to make everything feel right, even when it’s not.

Even with the premiere, and the forced spotlight, I’m happy.

“I am happy,” I say, my voice barely more than a whisper. There’s no need to explain. He knows. I know he does. The way he looks at me, soft, yet intense — tells me everything.

His lips part slightly, like he wants to say something more, but it’s like the words are stuck behind the emotion. He just looks at me, and for a moment, it feels like the entire room is holding its breath.

I lean in before he can respond, drawn to him in the way I can’t seem to control. I reach up, my hand brushing against his jaw, and that’s it. The smallest shift of his head, the gentle pull of my fingers against his skin, and he’s leaning in. His breath brushes my cheek, and I can smell the basil he's been sneaking on his lips.

When our lips meet, it’s like everything falls into place.

His kiss is slow, tentative at first, like he’s waiting for me to pull away, like he’s not sure if this is the right time. But it doesn’t matter — I pull him in closer, tilting my head just enough to deepen the contact. There’s something almost desperate in the way he lets himself fall into it, like he’s been waiting just as long as I have for this.

It’s soft, gentle, yet the way our mouths move together feels loaded with everything we haven’t said, everything we haven’t figured out yet. His hands find their way to my waist, pulling me even closer, as though he’s afraid to let go. I can feel the heat of his body, the way it aligns with mine perfectly, like we’ve been doing this forever, like we were always meant to be in sync this way.

I slide my fingers into his hair, tugging lightly, and he groans softly, the sound sending a jolt of heat through my veins. The kiss deepens just a fraction, and for a moment, there’s nothing else. No George’s world. No work. No lingering doubts. Just this.

Just us.

xxx

TagList: @meglouise00 @migilini @thankyoulovely @mosviqu @formulaal @jonnybernthalslover @tiredqzl @mrswillne @ravenaz @luvnarthur @capnjosh @ellouisa17

#The Edges Of Us #george clarke #george clarkey #george clarke x reader #george clarkey x reader #george clarke fics #george clarke fluff #george clarke imagine #will lenney #WillNE #willne x reader #willne fic #willne fluff #willne imagine #ukyt #george clarkey angst #willne angst

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loislanecoree · 4 months ago

Text

Please Please Please

Aaron Taylor-Johnson x Fem!Reader

Summary: An unexpected coffee accident turned your life upside down into a world full of glamour and flashing cameras everywhere you turned. You thought with Aaron by your side, it was going to be easy to navigate, but it turns out life in front of the flashing cameras isn't so effortless after all.

Author's Note: LOL! I've been meaning to upload this since Wednesday but I keep forgetting. Anyway, here's chapter three. wink wink ;) Enjoy!

Wordcount: 4.9K

Disclaimer: 18+, smut

chapter one - chapter two - chapter three - chapter four - chapter five - chapter six - chapter seven - chapter eight - chapter nine - chapter ten - chapter eleven - chapter twelve - epilogue

“Love was never a game to us. Here’s an end to living in corners existing day to day on–”

You gasped for air as you fluttered your eyes open. The Los Angeles sun greeted you through your window. You looked up at your ceiling, catching your breath, while Aaron’s voice still echoed in your mind. Beads of sweat covered your forehead.

Fucking Sara.

Turning your head to your bedside table, you saw that it was almost noon. After your dinner last night with your friends, you and Sara decided to open up a bottle of champagne and watched some movies. You both already had a couple of drinks from the restaurant so by the time the champagne hit you both, you were already making bad decisions.

“Let’s see this new boyfriend of yours, shall we?” Sara teased, grabbing the remote.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You gritted your teeth.

She browsed through the movies and put on Anna Karenina. You fell asleep more than halfway through and not because you were bored. It was an interesting movie, but you were too tired and the amount of alcohol you have consumed didn’t help either.

Although, it seemed like that didn’t stop Aaron’s character from slipping in your dreams.

Grabbing your phone from your bedside table, you saw a notification from Hannah. She texted you the address and time of the event and mentioned that she had dropped off your dress to Sara this morning. You let out a sigh as you ignored the text and opened Instagram. You mindlessly scrolled through your explore page and immediately paused when you saw a picture of Aaron.

For a moment, you stared at it. You wondered if the mention of his name from last night’s dinner got your phone suggesting these posts now. You hovered your thumb over the picture for a second before actually tapping on it. It was a red carpet event and the photo was taken professionally. His hair was shorter than what he has now. His beard was nicely trimmed, and he was wearing a maroon colored suit.

He looked… good.

Hot.

Your mind replayed the events of yesterday from the coffee shop. His voice echoed in your mind again.

“Is this going to be our meeting place?”

Maybe you need to start looking for a new coffee shop to go to.

You shook the thoughts out of your mind and exited the app. You couldn’t help but blame whatever system Apple did with their phones because ever since the mention of his name from last night’s dinner, he started appearing in your explore page.

Your feet touched the cool wooden floors and led you out of your bedroom. You could hear some soft clattering from the kitchen and as you passed through the living room, you saw a black garment bag hanging on the back of the sofa.

It must be the dress Hannah dropped off.

“Good morning.” You murmured, opening one of the cabinets and grabbing yourself a mug.

“Good morning. Hannah dropped off the dress this morning.” Sara said, taking a sip of her tea.

Your eyes shifted towards the garment bag that was on the sofa before paying attention to the coffee that you started brewing. In all honesty, you were dreading going to this party. You told yourself that you were going to show up for Hannah for just about an hour and then leave.

It was a Saturday. You wanted to relax on your sofa and read a book instead.

“It’s tonight, right?” Sara asked when you didn’t say anything.

“Yeah.” You sighed, pouring the hot coffee on your mug and stirred it with the creamer.

“You look excited.” Sara chuckled at your bored expression. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be that bad.”

You glanced up at her through your mug as you sipped your coffee. “Oh yeah? Do you want to come with me then?”

“Oh, no thanks.” Sara immediately said, holding up her hands. “I actually… um… I have plans tonight.”

“Oh?” A playful smile tugged on your lips as you leaned your hip against the kitchen counter. “Do tell.”

Sara rolled her eyes, and you could see that she was holding in her smile. She took a sip of her tea, her cheeks turning into a shade of pink.

“Well, since you will probably come home late tonight…” Sara murmured. “I was going to ask if I can bring someone in here. We’re planning to have dinner and a movie.”

You were smiling so much, your cheeks were hurting. It has been a long time since Sara was interested in someone, and you were excited for her because with the way she was reacting right now, it seemed like this person was different. She never reacted like this before with her exes when they first started talking.

“That’s fine by me.” You smirked. “Who is this person?”

You rested your elbows on the counter and rested your chin on your knuckles as you wiggled your eyebrows at her. You didn’t recognize who this Sara was in front of you, but she looked so adorable blushing like this.

“It’s not something serious.” Sara explained. “Eli and I started talking lately, and we have been…well… flirting? But I don’t know yet. He’s one of the engineers in NASA.”

Sara shrugged, her face red as a tomato now. She took another sip of her tea. You watched her fingers tremble around her cup, while she continued to hide her face behind it.

“Okay.” You grinned widely. “Well, I hope you and Eli have a great night. If you do decide to do something though, please don’t do it in the living room.”

Your voice was in a teasing tone as you ducked your head from the incoming piece of toast that Sara chucked at you.

“It’s not going to end that way!” She exclaimed.

You laughed at her as she turned bright red and flipped her brunette hair over her shoulder. She rolled her eyes and walked out of the kitchen with her cup of tea. You continued to laugh softly as you drank your coffee.

“Wear something green!” You called out from the kitchen. “It makes your eyes pop!”

You hear the slam of her bedroom door from down the hall as you chuckled softly. Speaking of something to wear, your eyes shifted back to the sofa. Your smile slowly disappeared, your lips twisting to the side. Knowing Hannah, she probably had given you a dress that would look very provocative and would make you uncomfortable the whole night.

Setting your mug down on the counter, you walked towards the sofa and unzipped the garment bag. There, you saw a long black dress. It was simple. There was a plunging V neck and thin straps. You picked up the dress and stood in front of your long length mirror and saw the high slit.

It didn’t look too bad.

Honestly, you expected worse from Hannah.

________

You sat in front of your vanity later that night, doing your makeup and curling your long hair into waves. You sat there for a moment and stared at yourself, letting out a deep breath. You mentally told yourself to just have fun and to stop dreading this party so much. You knew you felt like an outsider in these parties, but you have to keep your confidence intact. You need to at least try and have fun.

Deciding that you were going to be different tonight, you chose a dark red lipstick and slipped off from your robe to put on the dress that was hanging in your closet. You stood in front of your mirror and couldn’t help but think that the slit of the dress made your legs look nice and long. Even the plunging V-neck was making the girls look good.

Adding a simple necklace, you grabbed your clutch and car keys and walked out of your bedroom. You sent Sara a text that the place was all hers before leaving the apartment building.

Arriving at the hotel that Hannah texted you the address to, the front of the building was filled with black cars. Drivers dropping off celebrities and influencers. Some were driving their own car and handing their keys to the valet. You found Hannah waiting for you just by the front doors. As soon as you handed your keys to the valet staff, you saw her long blonde hair in waves. She was wearing a sparkly baby blue long dress that perfectly fit with her curves.

Hannah always looked stunning. Her makeup team always made sure she was perfect in every event and sometimes, you felt a little jealous with how perfect she always looked. Even when you two were just casually hanging out and grabbing dinner, she always looked beautiful.

Almost unreal.

“Hi!” Hannah greeted you with a smile as soon as she saw you.

She pulled you into a hug before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. She studied the dress that she gave you and shook her head, delight and approval sparking in her eyes.

“I knew that dress was going to be amazing on you.” Hannah said, locking her arms with yours.

“You look stunning too, Hannah.” You smiled.

She led you inside the building, down the hall, and into one of the big ballrooms. The music was blasting and a crowd of people with different statuses in Hollywood were talking amongst each other. On the back corner, there was a backdrop with the movie’s title plastered on it. Influencers were taking photos and videos in front of it.

Studying the room, you started to immediately fall out of place.

“So, why did you invite me?” You asked Hannah as she led you towards the open bar. “I thought you’d bring your new boyfriend as your date.”

Hannah ordered you an espresso martini—your favorite— and a mojito for her.

“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes and handed you the drink. “That asshole is long gone.”

You took a long sip of your drink, letting the alcohol burn your throat and sending heat down your whole body.

“What happened? I thought you guys just started dating?”

“He was using me for fame.” Hannah scoffed.

“Oh,” You bit your lower lip. “I’m sorry, Hannah.”

She waved her hand in front of her face and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. He was an asshole anyway.”

“Yeah, but still–”

“Anyway, what’s going on with you?” She cut you off, setting a hand on her hip.

You shrugged and drank your espresso martini. “Nothing new. Just working, you know?”

“You’re still working in that lab?” She scrunched her face. “Sweetie, you’re too pretty for that.”

“I like it.” You shrugged, finishing the rest of your drink and ordering another one.

Hannah shook her head and started talking about the movie. She was telling you about the struggles she faced on set with her co-stars, and in a few minutes, you had finished another drink. The more people entered the ballroom, the more uncomfortable you were, so you kept ordering more drinks to ease the feeling.

Hannah’s sentence was cut off when her attention was caught by a few people that were standing in the middle of the room. You didn’t even have the chance to see who it was before she grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the middle of the room. You looked around the room, apologizing to the other guests as you both made your way through the crowd. Your drink was still in your hand, and your fingers gripped on the glass tighter as you tried not to spill anything.

“Hannah.” You murmured, trying not to trip in your heels.

“Hi!” Hannah greeted the two older men and an older woman.

They gave her a kiss on the cheek before Hannah pulled you close to her side and introduced you to them. You gave them an awkward, shy smile and shook their hands.

“They are the producers of the last movie I did.” Hannah told you.

“Are you an actress too, sweetheart?” The older woman, Elsie, asked.

“Oh, no.” You shook your head. “I’m just accompanying Hannah for tonight. She’s the actress.”

“Well, that’s too bad.” One of the men, John, said, his eyes studying you intently. “With that pretty face, you would look good on camera.”

The corner of your lips twitched into an uncomfortable smile as you slipped your arm away from Hannah. The two men were disgustingly checking you out, and you didn’t want to be part of this conversation anymore.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you all.” You said. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the ladies room.”

You squeezed Hannah’s arm before you made your way through the crowd. Your feet were hurting from your heels, and you felt nothing but disgust from the way the two men were looking at you. If they were looking at you like that, you wonder if they did the same with Hannah when they first met her. A dark, deep pit formed in your stomach as you let your painful feet lead you out of the ballroom.

Maybe you shouldn't have left Hannah alone with them.

The moment you exited the double doors, it felt like you could breathe again. You set your hand over your stomach, feeling the rise and fall of it. You walked down the hall and found the women’s lounge and immediately slipped yourself inside. The lounge was empty, and it had a little sofa in the corner. The music from the party had muffled through the doors, and it was just you and the silence of the room. You sat on the sofa and unbuckled the strap of your heels, letting your feet finally breathe.

“Thank god.” You whispered, leaning back against the sofa.

You laid your head against the back of it and closed your eyes. Your breathing had finally settled back to normal as you let the silence of the lounge enveloped you. After a few minutes, you heard the door open and your eyes immediately snapped open. You heard three girls giggling and stopped in front of you as you straightened your position from the sofa.

You swallowed the embarrassment that was washing over you as they stared at your bare feet. They didn’t say anything as they walked towards the bathroom stalls, but you could see the judgement in their eyes. They whispered something to each other that you could barely hear, but you didn’t have to hear what they were talking about because you knew it was about you.

Slipping on your high heels, you quickly buckled the straps of your shoes and walked out of the lounge as fast as you could. Your heart was beating a thousand miles per hour when you felt one of your straps loosened from your feet.

“Fuck.” You sighed and stopped in the middle of the hall.

You leaned against the wall and went down on your knee to fix it, but the stupid thing wouldn’t buckle right.

“This is why I don’t wear these.” You whispered to yourself, shaking your head.

“Here, let me help, love.”

His fingers gently took away the strap from you. You slowly gazed up and saw Aaron on his one knee in front of you. Suddenly, everything started spinning. Was it the alcohol? You weren’t even tipsy or drunk. It made you a bit braver, but your mind was still intact.

What the hell was he doing here?

You didn’t know if that was even a valid question because of course, he would be here.

He was an actor!

“Lift up for me, darling. I can’t see it with your dress in the way.” He said, his blue eyes catching yours.

You slid your hand against the wall and stood back up, feeling his fingers gently grazed over the skin of your ankle. You held your breath, trying to balance yourself against the wall as he fixed the straps of your heels. You couldn’t even look down and watch him. Instead, you kept your eyes straight down the empty hall.

What if someone catches you both here and thinks differently about it? There were photographers everywhere at this party.

“There,” He said, his hand wrapping around your ankle and squeezing it lightly.

You stifled the gasp that was escaping from you. Your legs felt like jelly all of a sudden as he stood up back up and smiled at you.

“Hi.” He said.

“H…Hi.” Your voice trembled.

Now that you were looking at him better, he was in a black and white suit. He had a bowtie, and he had a haircut. He didn’t have long curly hair anymore. It was shorter, but his curls were still showing. A strand of it falling lightly on his forehead.

Fuck this man.

He looked even hotter now.

“So,” A smirk was already tugging on his lips as he fixed his cufflinks. “Is it my turn to call you a stalker now that you’re in my world?”

You let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head. “I’ll have you know, I didn’t even want to be at this party.”

“No?” A line appeared between his brows, while he tilted his head slightly at you.

God, he was so hot tonight.

What in the actual fuck?

Was it the alcohol that was making you feel like this?

“All glamour and dressed up and making nice conversations with the big directors and producers?” Aaron said, sarcasm in his voice. “That doesn’t sound so appealing to you?”

You hummed softly, squinting your eyes at him. “Now that you said it that way, maybe I made a mistake.”

Aaron let out a soft laugh, looking down at his feet and slipping his left hand on his front pocket. A strand of curl fell on his forehead and somehow, all you wanted to do was touch it and rake your fingers through his hair.

Oh. my. God.

You need to go the fuck home. Now.

“Were you in this movie?” Aaron asked, lifting his face to look at you again. “Because that’ll be a real asshole for me to not notice you on set.”

“No, my friend Hannah is in the movie. I’m just accompanying her.”

“Hannah Adler?”

You nodded your head as Aaron said. “Oh, I didn’t know you knew Hannah. She played my girlfriend in the movie.”

“Oh.” You played with your fingers.

Technically, you didn’t google the movie. You didn’t know who the cast were or what the movie was about. You just never had the time and besides, you were literally just hoping to come with Hannah for an hour and go home to your normal, boring life. You didn’t need to know anything about this world, and you didn’t plan to ever know anything about it.

You could live without that idea.

However, Aaron mentioning the fact that Hannah played his girlfriend in the movie got your stomach twisting in knots. You didn’t understand why you were feeling like this.

Aaron looked over his shoulder to where the party was before looking back at you. An idea glinting in his ocean blue eyes.

“Do you want to get out of here for a moment?” He asked.

Your lips twisted to the side, thinking about his offer. Your eyes shifted behind Aaron and towards the ballroom.

Did you really want to deal with another perverted older man who thinks they have the power because they were rich?

“Sure.” You replied.

Aaron smiled and led you down the hall, the opposite direction of the ballroom. As you both walked next to each other, the music from the party started to fade away, and he turned towards one of the rooms that had a plaque that said, “The View Lounge.”

Opening the door, you were greeted by a dimly lit room. It was empty with tables and chairs all around the room. There were floor to ceiling windows and a door that led outside the balcony.

Aaron looked over his shoulder, smiling at you as he opened the door to the balcony. The cool mid-October air greeted you as you took a deep breath and closed your eyes for a moment.

You needed this.

It felt lighter rather than the stuffy ballroom you were just in earlier. You opened your eyes and saw the view of the LA skyline. You could hear the cars passing by the streets underneath you. Life was happening all around, and the whole city was glittering in front of you.

It was so beautiful.

Aaron’s warm presence immediately snapped you out of your little daydream, and you turned to glance up at him with a smile.

“So, I know you’re not in this movie, but are you an actor too?” Aaron asked.

“No,” Your fingers softly grazed the metal railing. “I’m just a Chemist. I’ve known Hannah since we were children, so she drags me to these events.”

“Oh. I assumed you were since you were in that coffee shop across from Warner Brothers and now, you’re here.”

“Oh, yeah.” You chuckled softly. “My job is a few blocks away from it, that’s why. It’s my favorite coffee shop.”

Aaron nodded his head, while you focused your attention back to the view. There was a silence for a moment, the only sounds were the cars passing by, the city noise, and the soft breeze in the air. For a second, you looked at Aaron through the corner of your eye. The alcohol running through your veins was making you feel a little more confident and brave tonight.

And maybe you should be a different girl tonight.

You inhaled a deep breath and turned to face him, leaning your elbow against the railing.

“This is the third time we saw each other in three days.” You pointed out.

Aaron smiled and turned his body to face you. He took a step forward and said, “I’m starting to believe there’s a reason for it.”

His voice was low and husky, it sent electricity down your body. You stifled your sigh as you looked into his blue eyes. You could feel the heat between the two of you, and you could see that he was feeling it too.

It made your confidence increase.

“Any idea what it could be?” Your voice was almost a whisper.

You swallowed the sudden unfamiliar emotions that were washing over you as he blew out a long breath and took another step forward. He stood tall in front of you. Your body twisted so that your back was leaning against the railing. Both of his hands held onto the railing, trapping you between his arms.

The air immediately left your lungs as he stared into your eyes, “No, but I know I can’t get you out of my head ever since I first met you.”

“Oh.” You murmured, your teeth biting down your lower lip.

A small chuckle escaped his lips and a smirk pulled into his expression. “Oh? That’s it?”

You gasped softly when you felt his fingers slowly danced across your jawline. His jaw clenched as he studied your face under the moonlight. You saw how his Adam’s apple bobbed as he let his thumb brush your cheek softly. His warmth radiated around you and even if your dress only had thin straps, the air suddenly felt hot.

“I don’t want to lie to you, but I can’t stop thinking about you too.” You whispered.

You licked your lips, and his thumb suddenly found your lower lip, brushing it softly.

“I thought maybe I’m losing my mind.” You added, your brain starting to short circuit from his touch.

All these words you were saying… The alcohol definitely had some help with it.

One corner of his lips lifted, cupping your cheek with his one hand. The cool metal of the railing was pressed against your back, only inches of space between the two of you. His face was hovering over yours and the thought of anyone barging in this room suddenly enveloped your thoughts.

You felt Aaron’s hand sliding on your waist, gripping it tightly. Suddenly, his soft touches made those thoughts disappear. It was almost like it was just you and him in this world.

“Maybe I am too then.” He murmured, his blue eyes darkening.

His lips hovered over yours. They were inches apart, and it was making you slowly lose your mind. A jar of butterflies opened up in the pit of your stomach as you closed your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, voice gentle and soft.

It only took a second for you to nod your head, giving him permission before he crashed his lips against yours. He tasted sweet and like peppermint with the mix of alcohol that he has been drinking tonight. His kiss was hungry but soft at the same time. It was the kind of heated kiss that felt like you both have been waiting for this for a long time.

As you slipped your arms around his neck, he let his left hand run down your bare back. His right hand slipped on your hip, gripping it tightly as you continued to move your lips against his and pulled him closer to you. He let his tongue licked your lower lip before you opened your mouth, granting him access. You let out a soft moan as your tongues danced together.

“Fuck.” A low groan vibrated in his throat as he pulled away, kissing the line of your jaw.

You let out a breathless gasp when he slid his right hand that was gripping your hip down to the slit of your dress. He drew circles on the flushed skin of your thighs and let his lips kiss down your neck. You threw your head back to give him more access.

“Aaron.” You whispered, feeling a sudden ache for him between your legs.

He looked up and stared into your eyes. You saw how dark his blue eyes were, his chest rising and falling. His hands didn’t let go of you as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“What are you doing to me?” He asked breathlessly.

“I should be asking you that.” You whispered.

Aaron crushed his lips against yours again as you let your fingers rake through his hair, tugging on it lightly. He growled in your ear as he kissed down your neck, his hand slipping through the slit of your dress. He let his index finger caressed the fabric of your underwear and when he felt the fabric soaking from your wetness, he let out a hiss as he kissed the skin between your breasts.

You moaned softly, letting your head fall back and pulling him close to you. Letting his other free hand roam your sides, he kissed you again. You were flying high as he let his tongue slip inside your mouth again. He pushed aside your underwear and caressed his finger on your slit.

“You’re so wet for me, darling.” He whispered, pulling away from your lips and staring into your eyes.

“How can I not be?” You whispered.

He smirked, his eyes not leaving yours. Wrapping your hand on his wrist, you guided him slowly. You kissed the line of his jaw, making you moan his name again when he started rubbing your swollen clit. He let his finger move in circles before inserting it inside of you. Immediately, you could feel your walls tightening around his finger as he pumped it in and out of you.

“Fuck.” He growled, inserting his middle finger and pumped it faster inside of you.

Your legs were starting to feel weak as you buried your face on his neck and gripped his shoulders. All you could hear were your moans and Aaron growling your name in your ear the more you tightened around his fingers. He pushed the edge of his palm against your clit as he continued to pump his fingers until you could feel your pleasure pooling at the edge of your spine.

“Shit.” You cursed in his ear. “I’m so close.”

“C’mon, love. Come for me.”

Aaron pulled back to watch your expression as you threw your head back, your wavy hair falling behind you and your eyes closing as you felt him hitting you on the right spot. Your mouth fell open as you squeezed your eyes shut, finally feeling the pleasure washed over you. Aaron decreased the thrust of his fingers inside of you, continuing his palm to rub your clit slowly in circles until you rode out your waves.

When you came back down, you were breathless and sweaty. You opened your eyes and saw Aaron smiling at you as he pulled out his fingers and returned your underwear back to its place.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, cupping your cheek and kissing your sweaty temple.

He wrapped his arms around you as you let your body melt in his arms. Your whole body felt boneless as you gasped for air. You felt his hard cock rubbing against your thigh, and you knew it must be painful for him right now. You slowly slipped your hand, feeling the outline of it through his pants when he put his hand over yours.

“Hey,” He whispered, shaking his head. “No.”

“Let me help.” You gazed up to him through your lashes.

He shook his head and smiled, “Not tonight. Tonight, it’s about you.”

He leaned and kissed you softly, brushing the strands of your hair away from your face. Your surroundings suddenly resurfaced back as Aaron continued to hold you in his arms.

“I can’t believe that just happened.” You said, pressing your face on his chest.

“I never…” You shook your head, smiling. “I have never done it in public before.”

Aaron smirked, setting his chin on top of your head and letting his warmth engulf you.

“Trust me, love. There’ll be more.”

__________________________________________________________

Taglist:

@acourtofpenandpaper, @metal-redcherries, @n0rdicmaiden, @galadoesart, @dare-writes

#aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson x fem!reader #aaron taylor johnson fanfic #aaron taylor johnson fics #aaron taylor johnson fic #sweetprfct #please please please #chapter three

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d1xonss · 2 years ago

Text

Desert Rose

Chapter 1 ~ Introductions

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 1

✧ Word Count : 4.2k

In this chapter ~ In a life full of unexpected turns, this one by far hit Rose the hardest. A disease begins to spread when the dead are somehow brought back to life, that alone being the tip of the iceberg of what she remains to be faced with. When it all leads to her fighting for her life in Atlanta, she meets a group that ends up saving her from what she thought was the end of her rope. But when they bring her along for their great escape out of the dead infested city, she's faced with a decision that seemed to be more difficult than she first realized.

AN ~ Hi! So this is my very first post and series on tumblr and I’m still very much trying to get the feel of things lol. I originally uploaded the first two seasons of this fanfiction to wattpad and am still uploading frequently there, but I also wanted to give this a try as well. Just putting it on a different platform for more people to see:)

I will admit before you read, I started writing this story a little while ago so the phrasing and writing might be a little rusty at first seeing as I was just starting out. But I promise it gets better as it goes on, trust me! I hope whoever reads this grows to love it as much as I do. I will be uploading here as much as I can and adjusting to the new feel of things on here as quick as I can.

And I think that’s all for now! I hope you enjoy!

Fear.

That's the only emotion anyone ever feels anymore, or that's at least what I believe. Considering I've been on my own since the beginning, fear is something that I've had to grow accustomed to. And the world going to shit only made me realize how alone I truly was. How little I had to rely on as I saved myself time and time again. Though I had a family, the people whom I was bonded to by blood, they were nothing but a memory to me now. Reminding myself I was on my own for a reason.

I always knew how to take care of myself, simply because that was all I ever knew, and I was always silently thankful for that. I couldn't imagine living in this world and not knowing how to fight, or fend for yourself, so I considered myself lucky. I caught on quickly when it came time to start killing the dead, the very first time I had taken one out still haunts me to this day. The first feeling of fear I had felt in a very long time. I've learned the hard way that you never quite shake the feeling.

I had a day off from work, which was rare, just sitting in my apartment painting while the T.V. played quietly in the background. But then the whole atmosphere changed, nearly in a split second it felt like. My ears perked up when I suddenly heard blood curdling screams coming from the hallway just outside, instantly sending me flying to the front door to press my ear up against the surface. The desperate pleas and cries only seemed to worsen as the seconds ticked by, causing me to cautiously open my door to see two disgusting looking corpses going after a few of my neighbors. I froze at the scene before me.

They were trying to fight them off with random inanimate objects clutched tightly in their hands, flinching away as they tried desperately to fight back, screaming in utter terror. A part of me was torn, not wanting to step in and actually kill these things that looked exactly like us. People. But these things were no longer human, anyone could see that from a mile away.

I quickly snapped back into reality as my mind was made up, rushing back into my apartment to grab a large steak knife from my kitchen drawer, the blade glistening under the florescent light. My legs sprinted back through the corridor only moments later, stepping in as I shoved the thing up against the wall to get it away from the small group of people that had formed around it, causing the thing to growl as it looked directly at me. Goosebumps formed on my skin at the sight, quickly twirling the knife around to stab it in the chest, but it only continued to flail around in my grasp. My eyes widened as the monster didn't seem the least bit phased, trying again and again desperately to get its clawing hands away from me.

But finally, it a fit of aggravation, I took the blade and stabbed it right in between its eyes, silencing it completely as it fell limp out of my hold and onto the carpeted floor. My breathing was ragged as the others continued to panic loudly from just behind my frame, but I stayed completely still as I couldn't take my eyes away from the being I just murdered. I felt disgusting, horrified, and dazed. Though one thing I knew for certain, I couldn't stay here.

I didn't hesitate then to storm back into my home and pack a larger duffle bag full of my stuff to evacuate, knowing that this couldn't have just been happening here. Curiosity got the better of me as I flipped through the T.V. channels, landing on the news which showed utter chaos and live footage of these things attacking more people in many different countries. My heart seemed to stop for a moment as I watched, seeing that the world was nearly coming to an end as countless military machinery were flooding down the streets, attempting to put a stop to this before it spread.

I didn't know what to do, where I would go, but I wanted to get as far away from here as possible. Looking into the dead eyes of the monster really didn't sit too well with me.

Though after that day, life was never the same. The dead slowly took over everything, killing off anyone they could get a hold of and silencing the planet completely. Leaving everyone who was left alive, utterly terrified and alone.

Two whole months had passed since the dreaded outbreak, and I found myself to be moving constantly. Never staying in the same place for too long, before packing up to move on and stay alive. That's truly all that mattered anymore.

Without having a real clear destination in mind, I somehow ended up in the city of Atlanta Georgia, just passing through the large structures hoping to gather some supplies before moving on all over again. But what I didn't expect, was to see hundreds of corpses filling the streets. My eyes widened at the sight as soon as I turned the corner, hoping to just silently slip away as I backed up from the giant swarm. But a few of their heads turned as they somehow spotted me, and the numbers only grew from there.

I practically sprinted in the other direction as fast as I could, slipping in between a few buildings to try and outrun the many that chased me with outstretched hands. But somehow, I ended up right in a dead end, the alley being blocked off by a giant wall in which I couldn't escape. My heart pounded as I slowly turned back around to face the dead, seeming to accept my fate as I had nowhere else to turn.

And that brings me to today. No, I didn't die...but if I'm being honest, a part of me wished that I had.

Instead of feeling the corpse's dead fingers tearing into me, a few living people came out of nowhere from the tall building to my right and began killing off the dead one by one, right before my eyes. I stood completely still as I thought at first I might be dreaming, but one of the men quickly grabbing my arm and pulling me along like a rag doll told me it was far from that.

Anyone else would be grateful for these people being at the right place at the right time, but I unfortunately didn't work too well with others, so grateful isn't really the word I would use.

So, currently you could say I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place as I racked my brain, trying to figure out how to get out of the situation I was put in. One of the men that had saved me was wearing a God awful hat that made me want to walk back in the herd of walkers. His name, I learned, was Rick Grimes and he and his group were the ones that helped me get out of the pickle I got myself in, along with dragging me with them as they too escaped from the large city of Atlanta. From what I overheard the others talking loudly about, they had just managed to save Rick as well, who was having just as bad of a day as I was, an hour before they saved me. To me it looked like we were both just random strangers that they decided to pick up like lost dogs.

Though I was weary of them, the rest of the group seemedto be nice enough, except for this asshole Merle who was this racist, sexist, piece of shit. Spewing out slurs and insults from his lips every five minutes and only pushing my urge further to walk towards the flesh eating monsters. Wanting to just end my suffering. Though, to make a very long story short, we ended up leaving him handcuffed on the roof of a building where we were once trapped. And much to my surprise, it wasn't on purpose. Rick eventually had enough of the man's bullshit and took his fancy, shiny handcuffs to lock him in place on a metal pole, and a man named T-Dog accidentally dropped his key to freedom down a drain.

But when the time came, we had no choice but to leave him when the dead had broken into the building we were holed up in. The only option we really had now was to maybe go back for him later. Maybe. But to put it into perspective on how uncomfortable I was, riding in this truck with them to their camp...I would rather switch places with Merle.

I was suddenly pulled out of my thoughts when the vehicle we were riding in stopped abruptly, assuming we were at the sanctuary these people had been talking so much about. I took a moment to lean forward and glance out the windshield at my surroundings, not liking the feeling that was forming in my gut at the thought of meeting anyone new. But Rick caught me scanning the area, reading my expression from where he sat in the passenger seat and clearly sensed my nerves.

Though he eventually caught my eye, "Don't worry too much...we're in this together." he assured, flashing a half smile at me that made the corners of his eyes wrinkle.

I raised my eyebrows at his attempt. Oh, thank God we're in this together.

The man who was driving, Morales, told us to come out and meet everyone with a nod before he jumped out of the truck to run to his family. I shared another uneasy look with Rick before slowly following his actions to see for myself what I would be dealing with. My gaze scanned through everyone that was gathered around and instantly all their attention was on me once they heard my door slam shut. I grew uncomfortable at all the watchful eyes boring holes straight into my forehead, but the kid named Glenn eventually stepped in when he sensed the obvious tension.

"Guys, this is Rose. We saved her back in the city. She's cool." he assured with a smile, silently telling all of them to back off.

I shifted uncomfortably, forcing a small smile though it couldn't have been more fake. It seemed as though after Glenn said something, everyone relaxed a bit, thinking that I wouldn't be much of a threat. Though I could be. But they didn't need to know that. I didn't plan on hurting these people or taking their fishing poles unless they tried something with me first. But by the looks of it, some of these people looked like they couldn't even kill a fly, so I made the assumption that I was somewhat safe.

Though all of a sudden, the whole atmosphere seemed to change, everything happening in slow motion as a few people stared at me wide eyed. A man, a woman, and a kid. Confusion crossed my face as I wondered what I did to make these people stare daggers at me, until I heard a small gasp from behind. I looked over my shoulder to see Rick standing there in awe, wearing the same expression they did as he processed the situation in disbelief. I soon realized that they had been looking just behind me the entire time and quickly stepped off to the side as fast as I could.

Well, that's fucking embarrassing.

The little boy then took off in a flash towards Rick, screaming "Dad!" as he cried, and then it all seemed to click. This was the family Rick briefly mentioned to the group. The family he had been trying desperately to find. They had been here the whole time.

Everyone watched as they reunited with laughter and tears, the heartwarming scene almost causing me to smile. Though I snapped out of it with a shake of my head, my eyes now lingering down toward the ground as I crossed my arms around my middle.

After the moment had passed, that only came time for very long and boring introductions as Rick and I seemed to meet everyone else in the camp. I nodded towards everyone somewhat politely as I learned each of their names that I would surely accidentally forget. Although one seemed to really stick out to me amongst the many others.

Someone briefly mentioned the name Dixon, and I couldn't help but ponder over it for longer than necessary. The familiarity left a bad taste in my mouth. Apparently, Merle had a brother. And here I thought one was enough.

However, I had yet to meet him because the older man, Dale, informed me he was currently out hunting somewhere in the woods just ahead of us. But the truth was I didn't need to meet the man to know that he was an asshole just like the one we left behind. I mean, they were related after all.

The entire group then sat around a fire once the sun finally set, eating something small they cooked for the night, while discussing some random things that people would occasionally bring up. But the hot topic currently was what would they say to Daryl when the time came to tell him about his relative. In my mind it was pretty simple, but it was clear these people didn't want to be too harsh about it.

"How do we break it to him?" Dale asked.

"We just tell him the truth," Rick stated simply, "I'll tell him, I mean I was the one who cuffed him."

"No, I'll tell him...I'm the one who dropped the key." T-Dog gently argued, the guilt clearly getting to him.

Glenn sighed as he picked at the food on his plate, "I don't mean to bring race into this but...it might sound better coming from a white guy."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes hearing them going back and forth about the sensitive subject, hearing the same things being said over and over again. I stayed completely silent during the debate as I felt it was far from my business to put in my input, slowly tuning their conversation out. It was then I came to the realization that I couldn't stay here. Stepping even a foot into this camp was clearly a big mistake, I didn't belong with the rest of them. I was always better off alone.

And what seemed to annoy me the most was that I didn't have a choice, they just dragged me back here without even asking, without a care in the world. To me, that alone was a good enough reason to flee the moment I got the chance.

As the hour grew late and the sun disappeared from the sky, they all collectively decided to call it a night as everyone went their separate ways. I planned to head off into the forest to sleep, unprepared to trust the environment here as I felt I always had to keep my guard up. It made me feel safer, more secure, and it gave me an easier escape route for when morning came.

I jumped at the opportunity to be alone, grabbing my things and stepping over the few logs in my way to head toward the tree line for some much needed silence. Though just as I was about to receive the smallest taste of freedom, a voice calling out behind me caused me to stop.

"Hey, Rose!" I recognized Dale's voice softly shout.

My chest raised up and down with a deep sigh, turning around to face him as I looked at him expectantly. "I know you don't have a tent of your own or anything, but we do have some extra room in the RV..."

I continued to stare, hardly showing any emotion on my face at all as I tried to read him, figuring out what his intentions were.

"Look, I know you're new and clearly don't feel too comfortable here just yet...but I just want to make sure you have a safe place to sleep. Now, you don't have to, I just thought I would offer." he said, finishing with a smile.

It was no secret to me that Dale was a good person and a decent man. There were definitely some people in this group that gave me a bad feeling right off the bat, however, Dale wasn't one of them. But I needed to get away. I only wanted this group to be a distant memory in the back of my mind and nothing more.

So, with that I shook my head, "I'm okay." I said as politely as I could before heading off into the forest.

I could hear him sigh from behind me as I walked away but I didn't let it bother me. I needed to go. A part of me didn't even want to sleep so I could get a head start to put some distance between me and this place, but I was fairly tired from running for my life throughout the day. So, I figured I should sleep for a couple of hours and leave before anyone else woke to head off to...well, anywhere but here.

My eyes groggily peeled open the following morning just before the sun began to rise over the hills, looking at it made me guess was it was around four or five in the morning. I yawned and stretched tiredly before standing up to my full height and placing my bag securely on my back, ready to head off in the opposite direction of the camp as the dirt crunched loudly beneath my feet. Although I didn't get very far, maybe about five steps before something suddenly stopped me in my tracks. I stood frozen there for a minute, just thinking. For some reason there was a certain hunch I had, an inkling of sorts. Something telling me to stop.

My mind started to spiral with many different thoughts, enough to give you a headache, but then that's where I stopped myself. My whole life whenever I had a gut feeling about something, I needed to trust it. My little intuition was almost never wrong. And although most impressions like this were like warnings about uneasy feelings, this one was different. Like a magnet was pulling me back to the group. A strong ass magnet.

I found myself plopping back down on my ass, my back up against the tree with my knees to my chest, just lost in my own thoughts, debating and arguing with myself for what felt like hours when in reality it was probably only a few minutes. But a golden flicker of light appearing out of the corner of my eye is what made me look back up, seeing the sun beginning to rise higher in the sky enough to kiss my cheeks. Okay...so it really had been a few hours.

But even after clear hours had passed me by, I was still left very torn about to do with myself. My head was screaming at me to just get out of here, to be on my own without any limitations or responsibilities. But my heart was calmly telling me to stay, to see how it would work out in the end if I went against my better judgement. I hadn't had a real group at all since the outbreak first happened, but in my mind, I never wished for one. I always believed it was okay to be alone, watching out for yourself rather than anyone else dragging you down. That was the logical way to survive...wasn't it?

With that I let out an aggravated groan and slowly stood back up to make my walk of shame back into camp, knowing it would eat me alive if I didn't give it another chance. One more day, I promised myself, and if nothing changed, I'd leave tonight.

As I walked back into the grounds, I noticed some people were already awake in the early hours of the morning much to my surprise. Carol and her daughter Sophia were sitting up on one of the logs talking quietly to each other, the woman's gaze glancing up as she noticed my movement. She sent me a sweet smile with a small wave, to which I nodded to her in return.

My eyes then looked away from her for a split second when I caught a brief glimpse of Rick walking away from the campsite, a certain determination in his step and his head low. I stayed in place as I watched his figure disappear, before I found my feet slowly moving forward to follow him. I didn't know why I did. I just grew curious, I guess.

When I caught up to his long strides, I found him sitting on a larger rock, seemingly talking to himself though I couldn't make out the words from where I was standing. It was all too hushed and quiet. But then my eyes panned over a bit to see a device in his hands, his mouth lowering closer as he spoke into it. Good to know he wasn't batshit crazy or anything.

Though as I shifted my weight and prepared to leave him be, I somehow accidently stepped too far to the right and directly onto a branch that snapped loudly under my boot. My eyes closed the second it happened, silently cursing to myself. Rick's head seemed to whip around the moment the sound hit his ears, his hand hovering over his gun in its holster, but his body instantly relaxed when he realized I wasn't a walking corpse.

The man then flashed me a small smile as he recovered from the mini heart attack, "Hey...you're up early."

I lifted my arm to check my imaginary watch, "No shit."

He nodded slowly, "You're not a morning person...noted." he spoke before sighing to himself as he stared at me, "You know, I can tell you've been alone for quite some time. And I know you're probably scared, but-"

"I'm not scared of anything." I was quick to correct, my harsh tone even surprising myself.

His brows raised a little, whether it was because of my words or the fact that I interrupted him, I wasn't sure. But one thing I knew for certain was I wasn't going to stand here and listen to him accuse me of the things I was feeling when he didn't know anything about me at all. Everyone around here might've been scared of this new world, but I sure as hell wasn't. Maybe that was another reason I shouldn't be here; these people didn't know what the hell they were doing. Too scared to have a steady head on their shoulders.

"Okay, maybe you're not scared... but you are alone." he spoke again.

I didn't open my mouth to respond as my eyes narrowed at him further. Thanks, captain obvious.

He continued, "Look, I know you don't trust us, but all I'm asking for is that you give us a chance. I saw the way you were looking at everyone last night, like you were ready to pounce any minute in case anyone tried anything. But I can tell you need us as much as we need you-"

"Okay," I interrupted with a wave of my hand, "Let me stop you right there before you break out into song and dance. I'm going to make something perfectly clear. I don't need you, or your parade of assholes back there for anything. I have always been just fine on my own, and last time I checked I didn't even ask for you to save me and bring me back here. You just did it. So don't tell me I'm scared, or I need any of you because that is far from the truth, asshole." I spoke harshly.

He stared at me for a few seconds not knowing how to respond, but he clapped back quicker than I expected, "Alright, fair enough. You're right... I don't know you. You didn't ask me to save you, and you don't look like you need anyone's help. All I'm just saying is it's nice to have other people watching your back. I felt completely alone until I found a man and his son while looking for my family, and now I can be a part of this group...and so can you. You just have to trust it...give it a chance."

My brows furrowed as I opened my mouth to retaliate, but it was apparently his turn to cut me off instead, "I can understand if you want to leave. Just know that...everyone in camp likes the idea of having you around."

His response was far from what I expected, finding I didn't say anything in return mostly because I couldn't find the right words. How could he be so understanding over someone he didn't even know? It honestly blew my mind a little.

When he saw I wasn't going to argue further, he turned back around to watch the sun continue to rise. And after debating in my head for a minute or two, I decided to walk over and sit myself next to him on the giant rock. He glanced at me when I sat down, probably expecting me to say some smart ass comment in return to his statement, but I didn't. We just sat in comfortable silence until the sky was no longer orange and pink, but now turning into more of a pale blue with clouds slowly filling up the remaining space. It was somewhat refreshing.

I could tell he was about to move and stand up to his feet, probably to head back to camp, but I said something that stopped him.

"I never wanted to be alone." I confessed, not taking my eyes off the sky.

As soon as the words left my lips, I closed my eyes for a moment as I regretted what I said almost instantly. I didn't want to admit defeat to anyone, let alone a stranger, but I figured I should in this case for him to truly understand what I was feeling.

I felt his eyes on me as he said nothing, expecting me to continue, so I did. "I was already alone before the world went to shit...and I guess I've just gotten used to being by myself. It's kind of exhausting looking out for other people."

He still remained silent.

"My point is, I don't know if I'm staying." I said, finally turning to look at him.

He nodded, "That's okay. Just...make sure to think about it before you make any rash decisions. Who knows...maybe you'll change your mind." he said almost suggestively before finally standing up to head back in the opposite direction.

I turned my head and watched his frame retreat away from me for a few seconds, his words echoing in my mind, before returning all my attention back to the sky. A part of me still wanted to go, the fear of the unknown creeping back up on me, however I did tell myself that I would give it another chance. But if I couldn't find a reason to say by tonight, that was that. I would leave this group behind.

~ Thanks for reading!

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lsunstreakerl · 7 months ago

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hi! i must say i really love your fics and i’m currently re-reading the first chapters of Search History (because i can’t get enough) and i came across this bit:

"I am so afraid of losing people I love, Max. That is why I did not approach you sooner, because I thought if I got close, if I loved you, something bad would happen to you too." He sniffs, and suddenly he really does have the waterworks going, worse than Max has ever seen from him before.

"But then Silverstone happened and you got hurt anyways. And I realized it does not matter if I love you from close or afar, and if I am going to love you then I want to do it right. "

and i know SH deals a lot with the consequences of Silverstone ‘21 on Max’s health but i was wondering if you have any insight on Charles’ immediate or short term reaction to the event, specially given that they were not together at the time.

again, love your work! it scratched an itch i didn’t know i had regarding RB garage dynamics

The way I literally disappeared off the face of the earth sorry guys 😭 it's been a rough winter and I've been working lots of unexpected hours but I should have some stuff uploaded soon!

Silverstone '21 is kind of the tipping point for Charles in Search History. I don't write a whole lot of Charles' viewpoint or dive too deep into his character a whole lot, because I don't write him very well (thanks, anon) and I'd rather keep him somewhat as a side character than completely butcher his development. There's a bit more of him in the next chapter of Famiglia, but as far as Search History you probably still won't see a whole lot for the fic itself, but I might try to expand a bit in the rest of the series.

Charles and Max have known each other their whole lives, and Charles has been paying attention to Max for several years at this point, but kind of what I'm alluding to in the chunk you've pointed out is that Charles feels like he's cursed or bad luck to the people he loves. He's seen so much death in the sport, and in his family, and it's always people he loves, people he really cares about, so obviously he's the problem, instead of just having terrible luck, because that totally makes sense, good job Charles.

So Charles is realizing that he cares about Max, really cares, and that scares the hell out of him, so he's trying not to get too close, or get too attached, because then bad things will happen.

And then Max gets his shit rocked at Silverstone, and Charles realizes that he was doing all of this, putting in all this effort to stay away, and Max got hurt anyways, which actually helps break a little bit of that toxic thought pattern for him.

He doesn't immediately do anything dramatic or declare undying love of any of that lol, he just starts letting himself get closer. When Max wants to talk to him after a race, Charles yaps back to his hearts content. They start texting more. Charles seeks out Max to debrief sometimes, instead of Max always coming to him. They meet up in Monaco for lunch, they go on runs together, they spend more time with each other.

Charles still has a lot of anxiety surrounding Max and his eyes after he finds out, and it also creates a bit of a weird dynamic with Lewis going into them being teammates- Lewis doesn't know why Charles is sometimes nice and sometimes not, and Charles is trying to be a good friend and teammate but sometimes when he looks at Lewis all he's thinking of is Max. (This also leads into a really competitive year with Lewis and Charles. Charles is absolutely dead set on refusing Lewis his 8th, and Lewis is like "I understand competitiveness but this seems personal" and Charles is standing there lying through his teeth when he reassures Lewis it's not personal.)

Search History will have a Max and Lewis conversation about the accident. I want to make it clear that I'm not painting Lewis as a villain in this story, because sometimes shit happens, and sometimes that shit can fuck you up long term. It's exactly what it was called- an accident.

Sorry that got a bit rambling. Search History has been fighting me a bit in these last few chapters, so I keep rewriting things because I'd rather take longer and put out something I like than rush it and be unhappy about it later. I promise I'm working on it 🤍

#search history verse #formula one fanfiction

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ryuichirou · 6 days ago

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Replies

Some repliesssss

Anonymous asked:

Hello! I don’t know if you wanted to mention it in tumblr, but I saw the art you did for the Twst Nyota zine and they both look really good! I especially like the ADeuce one, something about the intimacy in both of their expressions was really nice. Even the small stuff, like Ace holding onto Deuce’s wrist so tightly while Deuce kind of clung to Ace, was really nice to see. I really liked it :D

Off topic, but I hope you enjoy the rest of your vacation!

Yesss the Twst Nyota Zine is finally out! Thank you for giving me an opportunity to talk about it, Anon <3

I’m very happy you liked both of my pieces! And especially the ADeuce one, somehow I always end up thinking about these two as girlfriends-but-not-actually-“girlfriends”, drawn towards each other and pretty much glued to each other, but ignoring it like an elephant in the room (then again, boys!ADeuce are the same lol). So I’m glad you liked their expressions <3

We initially wanted to do three pieces for the zine, but unfortunately didn’t have enough free time. Maybe I’ll finish the last piece one day…

Anyways! Everyone, please, check out the zine if you want! There is a lot of amazing art from a lot of very amazing people in there. I’ll post my pieces at some point in the future as well.

Also, it’s not a vacation, just an unexpected break because of lost motivation, but thank you still for your kind message!

Anonymous asked:

Hiii Ryui duo! Hope you guys get to rest up a little on your break, even if it’s both good and bad ahaha. Please do remember to drink lots of water and roll around in the sun whimsically🫶

Wishing both of you all the best

-Cater Simp anon

Thank you for caring about us this much, Cater Simp anon! We’re doing our best. Rolling around in the sun whimsically is actually a very good advice lol Vitamin D is no joke!!

Anonymous asked:

There were these screenshots going around from one of the Blue Lock games (Blaze Battle I think?) that I think were supposed to be of Shidou and Sae fucking around with a massage gun, but because of the lack of context as well as the translations ("Who turned the vibration level to max?" -Sae) it looked like they were fucking around with vibrators instead lol

Oh god lol Let’s be honest, Anon, would that really be surprising? If anyone would fuck around with vibrators out of the entire cast, it’s 100% these two.

Awwwhhhh, poor Sae with the vibration level turned to max~

Anonymous asked:

Since Ekala hasn’t been uploading a lot as of late, might I suggest Otome Ayui or Valkyrii for watching TWST events?

We do watch their translations as well sometimes! Especially when Ekala’s translation abruptly ends, and if there is no other translation. Otome Ayui in particular works pretty fast, and we’ve watched a lot of their stuff.

It is unfortunate that Ekala doesn’t upload that often anymore because we still want to finish the latest Halloween event with Ekala translation, but since we’re currently busy with 3 different mangas anyway, it can wait a bit more… Well, we’ll see if it’s translated by the time we’re back to watching twst.

Thank you for the recommendation anyways, Anon!

Anonymous asked:

any Leona ships?

Please refer to this link to see all of our ships!

Short answer: Ruggie/Leona, but we’re not super into it.

Anonymous asked:

i know you have the twst boys just listed as top or bottom, but do you have any headcanons about who's more of a dom top vs a service top, and then submissive cute bottoms vs bratty or power bottoms?

Service tops and power bottoms aren’t really our thing, Anon, and the rest kind of depends on context? 🤔 We love bratty bottoms, and some are more bratty than the rest, but they also have their submissive cute moments! I’d say that Malleus and Vil are the brattiest, but even Idia could get bratty. Scratch that, Idia is a huge brat actually lol when he isn’t scared, that is…

When it comes to service tops, what we usually have is a top that presents as service top, but ends up being even more selfish than someone who is openly a dom top. For example, Rook or Sebek.

Sebek/Malleus is the closest thing to a service top/power bottom dynamic that we have, and in actuality it’s just a fighting-his-desires-but-still-horny-top/provocative-bratty-prince-of-a-bottom lol

#replies

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dreamonseems · 2 years ago

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Thank You

Erling Haaland X Female Reader

Summary: Birth of baby number two

Literally, because i have been killing myself with work, I got so sick that I had to be in the hospital. Life's been crazy so sorry iv been MIA, I'm didn't even have a good vacation lol because I was sick. I'll hopefully be uploading throughout the week.

The much-awaited time had arrived for the couple to welcome their second baby, just like they did with Ragnar. They had planned for a home birth, hoping for a smooth and serene experience. Y/N's labor began around 4 pm, and they eagerly called the midwives to assist with the birth. Everything seemed ordinary in the beginning, but as the night progressed, the atmosphere took an unexpected turn.

Y/N, her breath becoming heavier, voiced her unease, "I don't feel good, something doesn't feel right." Her words carried an air of concern that immediately caught Erling's attention. Worriedly, he turned to the midwives, seeking answers, "What's going on?"

One of the midwives responded, her face reflecting the seriousness of the situation, "Her blood pressure is getting really high. We will have to take her to the hospital. Call an ambulance now."

Erling's heart skipped a beat, feeling the sudden rush of anxiety and fear. "What's happening? Is she okay? Is the baby okay?" he asked, his mind racing with worries. Sensing his panic, the head midwife, Doris, approached him and took him aside. With a reassuring tone, she said, "We will do everything we can to keep her calm until we get to the hospital. The doctors there will know how to help. But I'll need your help to keep her from freaking out."

Summoning all his courage, Erling took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He returned to Y/N's side, determined to support her through this challenging moment. He began massaging her back gently, his voice a soothing balm as he spoke calming words, "The baby will be okay, Y/N. You and the baby will be fine. Don't worry about that. Let's just stay nice and calm. Trust me, everything will be alright."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she clung to his words for comfort. "Is the baby going to be okay?" she questioned, her emotions running high.

Erling looked into her eyes with unwavering love and assurance, "Yes, of course, baby. You and the baby will be just fine. I promise you that. We're in this together, and we'll get through it." He continued to provide her with the support and strength she needed, knowing that his presence and words meant the world to her in this moment of uncertainty.

The ambulance rushed to the scene, lights flashing and sirens blaring, as they urgently transported Y/N to the hospital. Inside, the atmosphere was filled with tension and a sense of urgency. Y/N clung to hope, her heart pounding with anxiety while Erling sat beside her, trying to provide whatever reassurance he could.

As they arrived at the hospital, medical personnel were standing ready, anticipating their arrival. The doctor and nurses sprang into action as they swiftly took Y/N to the emergency room. Erling, desperate to be by her side, attempted to follow them, but he was halted by a nurse.

"We will take care of her and figure out what's going on. We'll call you when we are ready to have you in the room," the nurse informed him with a gentle yet firm demeanor.

Erling's heart sank at the thought of being separated from Y/N during such a critical moment. He nodded in resignation, though every fiber of his being longed to be with her. As he stood there, watching them take his wife away, he felt a sense of helplessness like never before. It was an overwhelming feeling of being lost, unable to do anything to help the love of his life and their precious baby.

Unable to bear the weight of his emotions, Erling sank to the floor, leaning against the hospital wall. He folded his hands together, seeking solace in prayer like never before. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and his voice trembled as he cried out to God with all his heart, "Please, God, please don't let anything happen to them. I beg you to protect them. Bring them both through this safe and sound."

Every word was filled with raw emotion, and Erling's heartache was evident in his fervent plea. In that vulnerable moment, he laid bare his deepest fears and hopes, finding a glimmer of strength in the act of prayer. The waiting seemed like an eternity, and Erling held on to the hope that his prayers would be heard and answered.

All around him, the hospital bustled with activity, but Erling remained on his knees, his thoughts consumed by his beloved wife and the life they created together. The uncertainty weighed heavily on his shoulders, but he held on to the belief that his love and faith could make a difference. Through the pain and the fear, Erling clung to the hope that soon, he would be reunited with Y/N and their unborn child, safe and sound.

"Mr. Haaland, you can come in now. She's pushing, and she's a strong one, your wife," the nurse called out to Erling with a hint of admiration in her voice. Erling's heart raced, and he swiftly rushed into the delivery room. He knew this was the critical moment he had been waiting for, and he couldn't bear to miss it.

Just in time, Erling stood by Y/N's side, gripping her hand tightly as she bravely pushed to bring their precious bundle of joy into the world. Y/N's face was flushed red, her tears mixing with sweat as she vocalized the intensity of her efforts. With every ounce of her strength, she pushed, determined to bring their baby safely into their arms.

With bated breath, Erling watched as their little one made their way into the world. But as the baby emerged, a sense of fear crept in. There were no cries, and the baby's complexion looked bluish. Time seemed to slow down as panic threatened to consume Erling's heart. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, and his mind raced with worry.

Y/N, still dazed and exhausted from the labor, was unaware of what was unfolding. She went in and out of consciousness, her eyes hazy as she caught glimpses of Erling's shocked face. Fearful for her baby's well-being, she repeated the question, "What's happening? What's happening?" But there were no answers forthcoming, and Erling found it difficult to tear his gaze away from the baby to comfort her.

With every second feeling like an eternity, Erling's heart sank as he focused on the baby's condition. The silence in the room was unbearable, and he prayed with all his might for a miracle. Just when it felt like time stood still, their baby finally let out a strong cry, piercing the air with life. Relief washed over Erling, and he couldn't hold back his emotions.

"Oh, thank you, thank you," Erling cried out, his voice trembling with gratitude. The sound of their baby's cries was music to his ears, a symphony of hope and joy amidst the fear and uncertainty. In that moment, he knew that they had overcome a major hurdle, and the bond between him, Y/N, and their newborn grew stronger than ever.

He turned to Y/N, her tired but elated expression mirroring his own feelings. The world seemed to fade away around them as they heard their babys cries, cherishing the miracle of life that they had brought into this world together.

As the anticipation reached its peak, the doctor's voice filled the room, ringing with a mix of excitement and tenderness, "It's a boy!" The words danced in the air, and Erling's heart swelled with pride and love. As the doctor gently placed their newborn son on Y/N's chest, a rush of emotions overwhelmed them both.

Y/N's eyes glistened with tears of joy as she looked down at her precious baby boy. A joyful chuckle escaped her lips, intermingled with tears, as she marveled at the miracle cradled against her. Her heart felt like it would burst from the overwhelming love she felt for the little bundle in her arms.

Erling's eyes welled up as he beheld the scene before him. His beautiful family, now complete with the arrival of little Elias, filled his soul with an indescribable sense of happiness. His hand trembled with emotion as he gently caressed his son's tiny, delicate head.

"His name is Elias," Erling declared, his voice quivering with affection and certainty. The name carried a sense of meaning and significance, carefully chosen to be a perfect fit for their new addition.

"Elias... I like it," Y/N said, her voice tender, yet teary-eyed. It was as if the name resonated deeply with her heart, sealing their bond as a family. The joyous tears cascading down her cheeks mirrored the overwhelming happiness in Erling's heart.

In that sacred moment, time seemed to stand still as they basked in the pure bliss of becoming parents once again. The room was filled with an aura of love, a cocoon of warmth and happiness that enveloped the new family. Elias, swaddled in love, had already woven himself into the hearts of his parents.

As they gazed at their son, they knew that this journey of parenthood would be filled with challenges and wonders, tears and laughter, but they were ready for every single moment. Little Elias had made them a family, and they vowed to cherish and protect him with all the love they could muster.

With Elias in their arms, their hearts were overflowing with love and gratitude. Y/N and Erling looked at each other, their eyes shining with affection, and shared a smile that spoke volumes. They knew that this was just the beginning of a lifetime of love, joy, and precious memories, and they couldn't wait to embark on this beautiful journey together as a family of four.

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yoomiwrites · 10 months ago

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Sugar Rush³

Note: This will be the last part for today. I mean, all I'm doing is to upload em here, but I don't wanna spam lol. Btw. I always had a Fanart for each chapter back then, which I won't use now since I don't know the artist and wouldn't be able to give them their credit.

The night sky was a blanket of inky blackness, shrouded in clouds and thick fog. The stars, the moon, even the distant houses were swallowed by the gloom. I was utterly exhausted. The last few days had been a whirlwind—clashing with the admirals, and of course, facing Akainu’s ever-present doubts about me. My body felt heavy as I trudged through the hallways, moving slower than a walk, barely dragging myself forward to deliver the final report of the day to Kizaru.

I knocked softly on the thick, wooden door, and from inside, a quiet, familiar voice called out, "Hmn, come in."

Opening the door carefully, I stepped inside, bowing briefly as I prepared to speak. But my words caught in my throat the moment I looked up. The sight before me was... unexpected, to say the least.

Kizaru sat casually on the sofa, his eyes lifting from the book in his hands as a sly smile curled his lips. But it wasn’t just him. Aokiji was sprawled across his left thigh, sound asleep, and Akainu rested on his right shoulder, equally lost in dreams.

"Psssh, (L/N)-san~," Kizaru whispered, snapping me out of my half-frozen shock. He gently closed the book, placing a finger to his lips in a gesture for silence. With the same finger, he pointed toward his desk, signaling where I should leave the documents.

Nodding, I moved quietly across the room, stifling a yawn as I laid the papers down with care. My only thought was to get out of this bizarre situation as quickly as possible. However, Kizaru had other plans.

Before I could make my escape, he wrapped an arm around my waist and effortlessly pulled me onto his free leg. A surprised gasp escaped me, though I quickly bit it back as Akainu stirred with a low grumble. The last thing I wanted was to wake him.

"What are you doing, Admiral Kizaru-san?" I whispered, trying to wriggle free from his grip.

"Don’t resist, (L/N). You’re tired. Let’s sleep," he murmured softly, his voice almost a lullaby. He rested his head on my shoulder, peering at my now undoubtedly bright red face with a grin of pure amusement.

"I would like to sleep," I replied in a harsh whisper, "but in my own room. In my own bed."

"But why?" he asked, his tone teasing as ever. "Look at them, aren’t they cute~?"

I glanced hesitantly at Aokiji, whose hair was, as always, ridiculously tempting to touch. After a moment’s pause, I reached out and gently ran my fingers through his hair. It was as soft as it looked. He grumbled contentedly in his sleep, and I quickly withdrew my hand, unsure of how to react.

"See? So sweet, hn~" Kizaru’s voice was a soft hum, clearly relishing the situation. I couldn’t help but smile, realizing he was mocking my earlier words from the start of the week—when I had, quite foolishly, referred to the admirals as “sweet as sugar.” He hadn’t forgotten, of course.

My eyes wandered over to Akainu. His usual intensity was nowhere to be seen. He looked completely peaceful, and despite myself, I reached out and gave his nose a little poke with my finger. In any other moment, this would have been unthinkable, but here I was, sitting among sleeping titans.

It wasn’t long before the sheer absurdity of it all hit me again, and I turned my gaze to Kizaru, who, unlike the others, was still very much awake.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice barely more than a tired whisper. Despite my growing discomfort, it was hard not to admit that the warmth of his body against mine was becoming... oddly comforting.

He looked at me with that familiar lazy smile. "You’re part of our family now, (F/N). Go to sleep."

Three hours passed. Three long hours of sitting there, surrounded by these powerful men, all of them peacefully asleep while I remained wide awake, unable to relax. Sleepless and plotting my escape.

But as I shifted, a single thought crossed my mind, one I would’ve never imagined needing to think: Oh, Kizaru... next time, please let me go to the bathroom first.

#aokiji kuzan #akainu sakazuki #borsalino kizaru #one piece x reader #one piece

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trulybetty · 1 year ago

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sunday in review | I

hello.

I took an unexpected hiatus from this before Christmas - my time, responsibilities and health have shifted in the last couple of months and with several spinning plates, something had to give. But I'm trying it out again - we'll see how it goes, let me know if you have any feedback!

writing habits.

plotted: - Javi P. x reader for Kel’s ‘Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge’ - Dieter x reader for Kate’s ‘Brandi Carlise Drabble Challenge’

worked on (i.e. jumped into and maybe added like three words, it's been a week): - Sequins!Joel x Reader - Tim x Cagney - Salt Water (I’m determined this will see the light of day at some point this year) - Angsty Dieter x Reader - x3 Lucien x Reader (this man has rotted my brain) - Texas Hold ‘Em anthology

on the blog this week.

handwritten asks which I’m slowly working my way through so the perfectionist in me isn’t awoken lol. If you’ve come across it I said I’d keep it up until Sunday, but if you want to drop an ask I’ll answer any extras that come through

march madness | 2024 I knew the full 63 was a lofty goal for me, my time to read fanfiction is now at odds with my time to write and that window has slowly gotten smaller. So I’ve been trying to squeeze in time to read where I can (list to be uploaded later)

what I read.

The One (Dieter) @schnarfer

Let Me Lay Down Beside You (Joel) @jomiddlemarch

Bookworm (Marcus P.) @write-down-your-dreams

easy like Sunday morning (Dieter) @gnpwdrnwhiskey

Delta Landscaping - Chapter 15 (various Pedro characters) @rhoorl

what I watched.

Road House - this movie knew the assignment

Lioness - so many ideas involving Frankie running through my head

9-1-1: Lone Star - watched for Liv Tyler, somehow staying for Rob Lowe, I don't know who I am

what made my dash happy.

There’s another Frankie Cat in the wild!

Heidi’s Joel AU moodboard

Mel’s Javi edit, who’s coming bar hopping?

celebrating.

Lolabee's 1 Year of Fic Celebration: 5th-7th April

fanfic throwback. this is where I go back into my read list and pick one at random to share - because all fic shouldn't be relegated to the archives after they've been shared.

Glass by @idolatrybarbie marcus pike and prompt no. fifteen— “is there anything we can do?” “we won’t be doing anything."

what was on repeat.

coming in under the wire was beyonce | cowboy carter 🙌

hope you're having a great Sunday! Let me know what you're up to in the comments 💕

#betty's sunday in review #sunday in review #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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sockcanvas · 2 years ago

Text

Apricity¹

(n.) the warmth of the sun in the winter¹

⚘. A oneshot [559 words]

⟣ ──┈⇢˚⋆ Pairing : Kim Joon Goo + G/N.Reader

⟣ ──┈⇢˚⋆ c/w : Hurt Comfort | Established Relationship

⟣ ──┈⇢˚⋆ a/n : 😛i feel like finishing my bsd drafts later, rn i want Goo content. Holy fuck im putting a lot of brain power and effort to write this crap, ugh let me know if this writing style is dookie caca or not cause i spend like half my time going through dictionary and thesaurus for synonyms LOL. timeline after CHAPTER 477 without the upload of chapter 478 cuz idk what happens after. Honestly first writing a fic after 3 years of not💪

synopsis . ₊˚. You were the sun to his cold winter days.

Erratic.

That’s one way to describe Goo. He was unpredictable by nature. Facetious² by choice. Kim Joon Goo is an enigma. You couldn’t understand his eccentric personality at first, how his lips always curved upwards into a large smile, or whenever his eyes wrinkle when he forcefully closes them to express himself. He was the most fervid³ person you knew.

But what was that crease between his eyebrows? the slight droop in his eyes, the downward curve from the corner of his mouth. There was a subtle tension, a stiffness, a moment of silence, one that contradicted his exuberance⁴.

His head pulled away from your touch, expression shrouded in an evasive look. Unbeknownst to you, your hands had been gently caressing his cheeks. The unusual glimpse of melancholy crossing his features along with the slightest of recoil brought you back into reality. Just earlier in the morning he had boasted loquaciously⁵ about the suit and sunglasses that he borrowed begged from his colleague, yet that suit was long gone from him, you’ve seen it draped over a chair earlier. It’s fabric stained a suspicious red, bearing large scars on its back—a silent witness to an untold story.

Your brows knitted in reaction to his unexpected withdrawal, a rare occurrence. Goo, who would typically lean into the warmth of your affection touches, now, altered from his usual demeanor. He turned away, back facing you, a deliberate motion that casted a shadow over your attempt to share a moment of intimacy.

“Goo.. is everything okay?” breaking the silence, your words slipped out with hesitation. Seeking a reply to an already obvious answer. There was a long pause, the seconds stretching into an eternity. Amidst the quiet, there was subtle murmur of dubiety⁶. Then, finally, a sound that cuts through the hush— a soft shift, the slightest of movement that spoke loudly in the muted space. The room itself held its breath, ambiance caught in a delicate flash.

“You don’t have to talk, it's okay,” you reassured, words laced with gentle understanding. In the stillness, your voice offered a comfort to bridge the tense gap. Once more, you guessed the role of your silent companion, seeking to provide solace⁷ in the face of unexpressed turmoil. You scoot close to him, navigating the emotional distance as you close the gap physically. Even though he was still turned away, your hands delicately snake over his face, fingers gently securing into a hug. Head pressed against the borrowed collared shirt that carried a faint smell of metallic blood and the overwhelming stench of debris and sweat.

As your hands intertwined one another, you could almost feel the tension dissolve. His once stiff body melted into your touch, a shared vulnerability that bounded you both. The room, suspended in a graceful balance between the unspoken and the understood. The final vestiges⁸ of unease lifted like a veil, as his soft breath matches yours.

You were radiant to him. Your patience, a beacon to contradict his sea of antics, served as a guiding light to his jungle of unpredictability. No matter the circumstances that painted the canvas of your existence, the relationship you have with Goo never wavered, You were like a dock he could come home to, an steadfast anchor, a haven that weathered the storms of his nature, the sun to his cold winter days.

(adj.) facetious² | treating serious issues with deliberately inappropriate humor; flippant.

(adj.) fervid³ | intensely enthusiastic or passionate, especially to an excessive degree.

(n.) exuberance⁴ | the quality of being full of energy, excitement, and cheerfulness; ebullience.

(advv.) loquaciously⁵ | a tendency to talk a lot

(n.) dubiety⁶ | the state or quality of being doubtful; uncertainty.

(n.) solace⁷ | comfort or consolation in a time of distress or sadness.

(n.) vestiges⁸ | a trace of something that is disappearing or no longer exists.

#goo kim x reader #goo kim #kim joongoo x reader #kim joongoo #lookism #lookism x reader #idk what im doing #me after not writing for 3 years and coming back to write this?#goo is little spoon lol

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coquitokisses · 10 months ago

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Trusting Again | chapter 012: catching up

Word count: 4127

A/n: This is the last chapter I have that’s complete so it’ll take me a while to upload the next one since I have to start writing it from scratch basically so just letting y’all know lol

series masterlist • previous chapter • next chapter

* let’s say it’s been like a month, again lol *

It’s like 8 in the morning and Bucky and Cat are currently on their “morning jog”. They’ve been going to walk together for a few weeks now since they’re literally the first ones to wake up since both of them have nightmares sometimes. Bucky has them more often than Cat, which she doesn’t know yet. He was the one who gave her the idea to go on a walk with him. He started doing it a few days before asking her. He thought that it would help him feel better about the nightmares.

When he saw that Cat was waking up at the crack of dawn too, he invited her to go with him and she accepted. It was supposed to be just for that day, but they ended up going everyday and now it’s kinda like a routine.

“Okay, I know sign language, I broke my wrist when I was 10 and I jumped off a third floor.” Cat spoke

“Wait what?!” Bucky looked at her

She chuckled. “Come on! Guess.”

They’re playing two truths and a lie. Usually Cat is the one that comes up with ideas to play different games while they’re on their walk. And Bucky just accepts since he really enjoys the company and he likes the conversations they have. He feels good with her.

“Okay, well I’m guessing the lie is that you know sign language.” He said although it sounded more like a question

“You are wrong, the lie is that I jumped off a third floor.” She replied

“Damn it!” He groaned “No way, so you actually know sign language?”

“Yes! They taught me in Bulgaria, it was essential.” She responded

“And you broke your wrist?!”

“Well I didn’t exactly broke it, it was a fracture, a very bad one, I almost broke it.” She explained “And it still cracks to this day, listen.” She put her wrist closer to his ear and moved her hand so he could hear it

“Oh my god! What the fuck?!” He grabbed her wrist “You’re sure it healed completely?”

She laughed. “Well the doctor said it did.” She shrugged “And it stopped hurting so I guess so.”

“Okay, my turn.” Bucky said

“Go.”

“I’ve never had a girlfriend, I broke my pinky when I was 13 and last one, I know how to draw.”

“Hmm..” she looked at him trying to read his facial expression and try to guess “I think the lie is that you’ve never had a girlfriend.”

“That’s actually true, the lie was that I broke my pinky, I’ve never broken anything other than my arm.”

“You’ve never had a girlfriend?!” She looked at him in complete shock “You’re joking.”

He chuckled. “I’m not.”

“You’re joking! Steve has said that you used to go on dates and all that stuff!”

“Yeah, dates, but I’ve never actually had a girlfriend.”

“Oh my god, I cannot believe this.”

“Why is it so hard to believe?” He frowned a little

“Because I just know that you were quite the flirt back in the day.”

He laughed. “What makes you say that?!”

“Oh don’t act so innocent! Look at you!” She pointed at him “You got a nice face and I’m sure you’re very good with your words.”

“And why would you think that?”

She chuckled. “I know a player when I see one, James.”

“I was not a player!” He defended himself

“Whatever you say.” She rolled her eyes laughing “But come on, you had girls, I know that for a fact.”

He shrugged. “One or two maybe.”

She laughed. “Right.” She nodded “It’s obvious.”

“It’s obvious?” He looked at her

“Yeah, a very cute dude who was also in the army and is very good with his words.. chicks like that.”

“Chicks like that?” He chuckled

“Yes, girls like guys like that.” She nodded

“Do you?”

She looked at him. “Maybe.” She shrugged

He smirked. “Good to know.”

“Oh stop it.” She rolled her eyes and he laughed “Oh my god!” She squealed making Bucky jump from the unexpected sound that just came out of her mouth

“What?” He asked worried

“Look!” She pointed forward “We walked so much that we finally found a beach!”

“Holy fuck, we did walked a lot.”

“Oh my god, I really wanna go, can we go?” She turned to look at him

“To the beach?”

“Yes!”

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

“Bucky, please.” She groaned “It’s not even 9, I bet there aren’t many people.”

“You wanna get in?”

“You don’t?”

“We’re not getting in, Lina.”

“Why not?”

“Because we don’t even have clothes and we aren’t even supposed to be at the beach, Steve is probably wondering where the hell are we.”

“Bucky please!” She put her hands together begging him “I haven’t gone to the beach in a year, my body needs it, okay?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“Bucky, I’m begging you.” She looked at him with pleading eyes “We’ve been locked up in that apartment for almost two months, please, let’s just go to the beach at least for five minutes, I’m begging you.”

She was right, they really haven’t been out. They do have their walks to exercise and all, but other than that, they don’t go out for anything unless they need to buy food and groceries.

And Bucky knows how much Cat loves the beach, they’ve talked so much that he already knew that about her and he knew that she really wanted to go. And she’s the most that’s really struggling with all of this.

“Alright.” He let out a sigh “Let’s go.”

“Wait, really?!” She looked at him with a smile

“But we’re not staying more than 15 minutes, understand?”

“Yes!” She let out an excited squeal “Okay, come on!”

They started walking towards the beach and Cat was right, there weren’t many people, like two or three, actually.

“Look, there’s some showers for when we get out.” She said pointing where the showers were

“I’m not getting in.” Bucky shook his head

“What do you mean you’re not getting in? You have to.” She said

“No I don’t and I’m not doing it.”

“But why? Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“You go, I’ll stay here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very.” He nodded

She just sighed. “Okay, fine, suit yourself.”

She took off her shoes and her shirt, since she had a sports bra under, and then went straight to the water. It was a little cold since it was still early and there weren’t any people in.

“Don’t go too far.” Bucky told her

“I know how to swim.”

“Lina.” He just looked at her

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine.”

“Clock’s ticking, babe.” He pointed at his wrist

“Oh my god.” She sighed

She quickly went to the shore and the water covered her feet immediately. She felt so good. She really loved the beach, since she was little. Her mom would always take her and her sister to the beach on the weekends and they would stay there all day, she loved it. And it’s kinda like the only thing that reminds her of her family.

“How is it?” Bucky’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts

“It’s cold!” She replied “Alright, I’m just gonna go in cause mami didn’t raised no pussy.”

He laughed. “I’m sure she didn’t.”

She got in a little more till the water was up to her thighs and then she went in the water. When she got out, the water was up to her neck. She wiped the water out of her eyes, blinking a few times to stop the burning feeling from the salty water and then she looked over at Bucky and waved at him, to which he waved back with a small smile.

She swam just a little further and just enjoyed the water for just a few minutes before swimming back to shore since she knew they couldn’t stay there for too long. And she was getting hungry since she hasn’t had any breakfast just yet.

“Feel better?” Bucky asked once she came out of the water

“So much better.” She nodded “That felt amazing and it was very needed but I’m ready to go because I’m getting hungry now.”

“I am too, come on.”

She picked up her shoes and her shirt and headed to the showers so she could wash away the salty water. Once she was done, they left.

“You should’ve gotten in, it was amazing.” She told him

“Maybe we can come again another day.” He said

“Really?” She looked at him

“Yeah, really.” He nodded

“That’ll be great.” She said “I hope my hair dries before we get home.”

Like 40 minutes later, they arrived at the apartment. Cat’s clothes was still a little damp, but she put on her t-shirt before going inside, and her hair was almost completely dry since it was very windy and sunny outside.

They took the stairs and then they walked into the apartment only to see Sam in the kitchen.

“Oh hey, you’re back.” He said looking at them

“Yup.” Cat nodded “Wait, you’re cooking?”

“Yes, the usual chef wasn’t here to make breakfast so I decided to make it myself.”

She laughed. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

Usually Cat is the one who cooks although there are times where the guys make their own meals. But she doesn’t mind cooking for them at all, she actually likes it.

“What are you making?” She asked as both of them made their way into the kitchen

“Scrambled eggs, we were out of pancakes.” Sam replied

“Oh no, you’re right, and I forgot to write it on the list when I finished the mix.” Cat pouted

“It’s fine, Steve went to buy some things we needed anyway.” He told her

“Well it smells good.” Bucky said

“Of course it smells good, I’m making it.” Sam said proudly

“Oh my god.” Cat rolled her eyes laughing “Ugh, I have to shower, but I’m so hungry that I don’t want to.”

“Don’t, food’s almost ready.” Sam told her “Shower after you finish.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll do just that.” She nodded

(…)

After eating, Cat went to her room to get some clothes and then headed to the bathroom to shower. 40 minutes later, she got out, got dressed and as she was walking to the living room, she saw a face that she didn’t think she was gonna see for a while.

“Oh my god!” She gasped “What are you doing here?!”

Natasha laughed. “What do you think? I have to come check on my babies every now and then.”

“Oh my god.” Cat quickly walked over to her and immediately hugged her “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, babe.” She said and then pulled away from her “Ready to go?”

“Go?” Cat frowned confused “Go where?”

“Well we know you’ve been having trouble with getting used to this so we thought it might be nice if you spend some time with Nat.” Steve responded

“And we’re picking up Wanda too.” Natasha added

“Wait, what?! Really?!”

Natasha nodded. “Yup, we’re gonna have a girls day today.”

“Oh my god, I feel like I could cry.” Cat said and they laughed

“Go get ready, we have to get to Edinburgh.” Nat told her

“Okay, okay, I’m going.”

She only changed her shorts, she put on some sweatpants and grabbed her jacket before heading back to the living room again.

“Well I’ll see you guys later, you won’t be missed.” Cat told the guys and they laughed

“Hope you have fun.” Steve told her

“Oh I will.” She said “I’ll see you guys later, behave, eat well and please wash what you use.”

“Will do, mom.” Sam said

“Okay, we can go.” She said to Nat

“Let’s go then.”

“Bye.” Cat waved at the guys and they waved them back

(…)

* let’s just fast forward to girls day lmao *

“So this is where you’ve been living?” Cat said walking around the studio that Nat has been living in for the past few months

She turned to look at her. “If you got something to say, say it.”

Cat laughed. “I got nothing to say, stupid, I actually like it, it’s kinda cozy.”

“It is, I love it.” Wanda added “So how are you?” She turned to look at Natasha

“I’m good, babe.” She replied

“You like living alone?”

“I do, it’s kinda cool.” She shrugged “But I miss you guys.”

Cat smiled. “We miss you too, very much.”

“So? How are things?” She asked

“Things are.. well they’re okay.” Wanda responded “They could be better, but they’re not so bad.”

“Yeah, same.” Cat nodded

“So, how’s it been?” Nat looked at Cat “Living with three guys?”

“Well not gonna lie, it hasn’t been so bad.” She replied

“Have you had any fights with them?” Wanda looked at her

“Just some bickering here and there with Bucky, but other than that it’s been great, they’re great.”

“They’re your boys now.” Nat said to her

Cat laughed a little. “They are and I love them.”

“So how have y’all been feeling with this whole situation? You’re not used to this.”

“Well it kinda sucks.” Wanda answered “But there’s not much we can do about it so.”

“Same.” Cat said shrugging “I’ve been having some really bad anxiety, but I’m trying to just enjoy what I can do and lately it hasn’t been so bad.”

“If your anxiety gets too bad, you know I’m just one call away, right?” Natasha said looking at Cat

“Yeah, I know.” She gave her a little smile “So Wanda, how are things with Vision?”

“They’re good.” She replied with a small smile

“They’re good good or just good?” Natasha asked

“Well that depends on your definition of good good.”

“Well for starters, now that he can turn human, have you..”

Cat cut her off. “Oh my god.” She rolled her eyes “Don’t listen to her.” She said to Wanda

“What? Is a genuine question.” Nat spoke

“Shut up.” Cat nudged her “You’re sick.” She said and Wanda just laughed

“Whatever dude.” Natasha rolled her eyes

“Nothing has happened, just to clarify.” Wanda spoke

“What about you?” Natasha looked at Cat

“What?”

“No hook ups or anything?”

“Ew, no.” She rolled her eyes

Natasha sighed. “Boring.”

“You’re sick.”

“Seriously nothing has happened? You and Sam?”

“Nat! Oh my god, absolutely not, I would literally not be able to stand him as anything else than my best friend.”

“What about the two super soldiers?”

“Nat, please.” She rolled her eyes making Natasha chuckle “Steve is literally like my dad.”

“Then there’s only one left.” She shrugged

Cat shook her head. “No, absolutely not, no.”

Natasha scoffed. “What a waste.”

“You said Bucky’s cute.” Wanda looked at Cat

“Well yeah, but that doesn’t mean I wanna fuck him.” She rolled her eyes “Nothing has happened.”

Yeah, nothing else was happening. She’s been spending a lot of time with him, but nothing else was happening between them. He flirts with her sometimes.. and she kinda likes it.. but nothing else was happening. Was it?

“Okay, actually, there may be something else.” Cat spoke getting their attention

“What do you mean?” Wanda asked

She sighed. “I think I like him..”

Wanda and Natasha looked at her completely shocked.

“Oh my god, are you serious?” Wanda said

“I’m afraid I am, yeah.”

“I told you.” Natasha said with a small smirk

“Shut up.” Cat rolled her eyes

“So I’m guessing that Ryder wasn’t that serious after all.” Wanda looked at her

Cat let out a sigh. “Well it was supposed to and it was starting to get kinda serious, but that obviously went to hell when I left New York and never went back.”

“So what’s been going on with Barnes? What happened that made you to like him?” Nat asked

“Nothing, he’s just..” she shrugged “He’s nice and cute and we get along pretty well.”

“Oh my gosh, I feel like I could cry.” Wanda said covering her mouth “I knew it, he’s definitely your type.”

“I don’t have a type.” Cat immediately shook her head

“You kinda do, you usually go for unstable ones, like.. what was his name?” Wanda looked at Nat “The tall one, light skinned with the dimples.”

“Oh Wesley.” Nat replied

“Yes! Wesley.” Wanda nodded

“That’s my ex.” Cat rolled her eyes “It doesn’t count.”

Wes and Cat started dating when she was 17 and they were together for two whole years, but they ended the relationship because Wesley had to go to California for college.

“Didn’t his mom died in a car crash or something like that?” Wanda questioned

“Yes.” Cat answered

“And Ryder was adopted because his biological parents were physically abusing him.” Natasha added “Talk about trauma.”

“Okay, you guys are talking crazy.” Cat rolled her eyes “I have enough traumas of my own to be attracted to a guy who probably has more than me.”

Wanda and Nat just stared at each other grinning.

“You guys are the worst.” She sighed and they just laughed

“Has he said anything? How does he feel?” Wanda questioned

“Well no, but I think he does like me too.. I mean, I don’t wanna make a fool of myself, but it’s just a little obvious.” She replied “And a girl knows when a guy likes her, he’s been a little flirty too.”

“Does Steve knows?” Natasha asked this time “Or does he has an idea or something?”

“No, I don’t think so.” She shook her head “You’re the firsts to know.”

“I feel so honored.” Wanda smiled

Cat giggled. “Of course, like I don’t tell you everything that happens to me.”

“I hate that we don’t get to see each other more often, I miss girl talk.”

“I do too.” Cat pouted

“Glad you say it because I managed to get us some phones.” Nat said “Well, better ones than the ones we have.”

“Really?” Wanda looked at her and she nodded

“Yup, we can chat now.” She said singsongy “And don’t worry, they’re safe to use, I made sure of that.”

“You’re an angel, you know that?” Cat told her

“So I’ve been told.” Nat smiled

“We need to have at least a weekly group call just to catch up.” Wanda said

“That sounds good.” Cat spoke

“I’d like that.” Natasha nodded “So? Hair time?” She looked at Cat

She sighed. “Should I?” She looked at them

“Yes, of course!” Wanda responded “A new hair color won’t hurt.”

“I have everything to do it, I just need your consent to make you look hotter.” Nat told her

Cat giggled. “Alright, let’s do it.”

“Sit here, my love.” Natasha patted the chair where she just stood up from “I’m gonna go and prep everything.”

“So,” Wanda spoke getting Cat’s attention “You really like him?” She said with such a gentle tone and a small smile, like she was genuinely excited and happy about it

Cat nodded. “I do.. it’s crazy.”

“It’s not crazy.”

“It is.. I don’t think I should be focusing on that right now considering the situation we’re in.” She ran a hand over her face

“I think that’s the reason you started to focus on that.” Wanda replied “It’s nice that he’s something that’s helping you get distracted from all of this.”

“Well when you say it like that.. it does sound nice.” Cat looked at her with a little smile

Wanda giggled. “I know, your face says it all.”

(…)

* hours later of course, i wanna finish the chapter lol *

“So? What do you think?” Natasha handed a small mirror to Cat

She already dyed her hair and even tho it was still damp, she couldn’t wait for Cat to see it.

Cat grabbed the mirror and looked at herself.

“You’re joking.” Her jaw almost dropped to the floor

“Do you like it?” Natasha asked

“It looks amazing but holy shit, I’ve never seen myself with red hair.” She replied, still shocked, still looking at herself in the mirror

“You look so good!” Wanda told her

“Welcome to the redheads club!” Nat said “Even tho I’m not a redhead right now.”

Cat laughed. “I’m thrilled to be part of the club.”

They hung out for a while, the whole day basically, until it was getting super late so Nat decided to get on the jet and take Wanda and Cat back to their places.

They dropped Wanda first and then headed to Morocco to drop Cat off.

“Let me know what Barnes think about your hair.” Natasha looked at Cat

She chuckled. “Shut up.” She rolled her eyes and Nat laughed

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in a few months? Maybe?” Nat shrugged

“I certainly hope so.” Cat nodded “I love you so much.” She hugged her tight

“I love you more.” Nat smiled and pulled away from her “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“Same goes to you.”

She chuckled. “I’ll try now that we agreed to have weekly updates.”

“Good.” Cat smiled “Bye.”

Nat waved at her with a small smile and then Cat made her way to the apartment, she went upstairs and when she got to the door, Steve was there waiting for her since they called him a few minutes before getting there.

“Hi, dad, sorry for coming back so late.” Cat said walking in

He chuckled. “It’s fine, bubs.” He closed the door

“Do I look good as a redhead?” She asked turning around to see him

“You look great.” He nodded “Do you like it?”

“I do but I’m not used to seeing myself with red hair.”

“But you look good, it suits you.”

“Thank you.”

“You had fun?” He asked

She nodded. “I did.”

“I’m glad, you needed that.”

“I really did, it was like therapy.” She replied “I’m kinda hungry tho.”

“Well lucky for you, I bought some things today.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m heading straight to the kitchen.” She said and Steve chuckled

“Well I’m going to bed, call me if anything happens.”

“Steve, we’re fine and we’ve been fine for the last two months.” She looked at him

“Hey, you never know.” He shrugged

She chuckled. “I will call you if anything happens.” She said “You can go to sleep.”

“Don’t stay up too late, you need to get some good sleep.” He told her “You haven’t been sleeping well.”

She rolled her eyes laughing. “Okay, dad, I won’t.” She lifted her hand like she was doing an oath

“Good.” He said “And wash what you use.”

“I will.” She nodded “Good night.”

“Night.” He said as he walked back to his room

Cat just let out a low giggle. She likes that Steve sometimes acts like a father to her because she never really got to experience that. And she knows that it’s just how Steve was raised, being a gentleman and being that protective with her and all. But she doesn’t mind at all, she thinks it’s sweet.

Cat went to the kitchen and she looked for something to eat. She ended up getting some cereal. She poured some in a bowl with some milk and then went to the balcony to eat, enjoying the cold night breeze. A few minutes later, she heard some footsteps from inside so she turned her head only to see Bucky.

“Hey, you’re awake.” She said

“And you’re back.” He walked over to the balcony “And holy shit you’re a redhead!”

She chuckled. “I am a redhead now.”

“You look good!” He told her

“Really?”

“Yes! Are you kidding?” He replied “Have you seen yourself?”

“I did, but I’m not used to seeing myself like this.”

“You really look amazing, seriously.” He said “It suits you.”

She couldn’t help but get a little flustered.

Thank god there’s not enough light.

She gave him a small smile. “That’s very nice of you to say.”

“I told you I’m a nice guy.”

She giggled. “Thanks, by the way.”

“You’re very welcome.” He smirked

“So uh, what are you doing up?” She asked, changing the subject because she got nervous

He shrugged. “I just couldn’t sleep.” He responded sitting on the other chair that was there

“Huh, really? You still having trouble to sleep?”

“A little.” He nodded

“We need to do something about that.”

He let out a low scoff. “I don’t think anything will really help, but the intention is appreciated.”

“You’re so pessimistic.” She groaned “We need to do something about that as well.”

He chuckled. “Okay, alright, I’m open to change that.”

“That’s good! You know what this is? Progress.” She said and he just laughed

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circledotdestroy · 1 year ago

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Retrospective - Chapter 2: The Insult of Injury

Pairing: Shouta Aizawa x F! Pro-Hero! Reader (slow burn)

Main Summary: After 12 years, you, Pro-Hero Strife, has to return to Japan. Your objective: discreetly track down and capture Akari Kaneko, a.k.a. Pro-Hero Aegis— your old classmate who attacked you during her visit in America. In the aftermath of All Might losing his power, however, using UA resources has its complications. The most unexpected complication being Aizawa, someone you never expected to see again. Why does your past have to come back to haunt you now? Masterlist First chapter Next Chapter Word Count: 5585

A/N: Sorry it took so long for me to post. While I was gone I got my first big girl job and my beta reader has been having trouble with her computer, so I had to obsess over the prose by myself. In the end, i had to split my planned second chapter in two because it was almost 10k, so that's fun. Also, I uploaded this fic to Ao3 and I added the tag "Autistic Shouta Aizawa" and I'm the first one to tag that in an X Reader Fic??? I thought it was a popular headcanon lol Anyway, you've waited long enough. I hope you enjoy!

Head hung over porcelain, gloved hands gripped onto the sink. A giant hammer banged against your skull from the inside leaving sparks in its wake. Neurons like shooting stars lived behind your eyes. “Sparks…” You gulped back nausea.

Murky puddles of colors blurred together. Light blue stalls behind you, slightly opened, but empty. A massive void leered through the mirror with slivers of red. Hunched, panting over the counter. Burning wounds spreading out, conquering the rest of your cold skin. Not so different from the last time you needed a healing quirk. Cold, clammy, and disgustingly pitiful in one of the dark backrooms of your agency–because doing paperwork was better than being by your lonesome with nothing. The main difference this time around was the mortification that came with breaking down in a high school bathroom.

You were going to smack Akari for what she put you through.

The thought stabilized your shaky breath. You straightened your body, your hands still grasping the counter. The pressure released from the stab wound. It steadied you and you were grateful.

The last thing you needed to add on this little business trip was a reunion with Recovery Girl. She had first-hand encounters of your nonsense. Dealing with the aftermath of you being a menace to society— or “younger” if someone wanted to be polite—more times then you can count. You went to her office a lot–sometimes for yourself. Sometimes. It didn’t matter if you started more “advanced” in your class, you weren’t immune to scraps, bruises, or the occasional slip up during training. Other times, it was for other classmates. Some you sent her way after battle trials, but other times you popped in to take supplies then ran out.

One time you asked when she was going to retire, she said whatever the Japanese equivalent was for “until I croak”. That was after she threatened you with her cane, but you laughed it off like the cocky child you were. You thought even if she could land a hit, it wouldn’t hurt that bad. After all this time, it’d be disappointing to tell her you got in a fight and lost at your big age. Maybe she’ll try hitting you with her cane again, you thought. She’d have an easier time now.

But no. Dealing with the effects of one healing quirk was enough. The risks of getting her involved drowsiness at best, or possible death before the investigation gets shot down at worst. Investigation aside, it’s becoming apparent your healing process isn’t where it’s supposed to be. The itches, the burning… no one is in this bathroom with you, but you’re burning beneath cold skin. Someone who sees you on the street can say: “It’s only been two days! Walking around, catching a flight, that’s a MIRACLE for only two days!”

However, that’s the problem. It’s already been two days. With the healing quirk, you’re supposed to be at least 75%, but you’re not pushing fifty.

Removing your hands from the sink, you brought them to your sides. It was hard to know where one pain starts and where the other ends. Everything burns and your body is compelling you to turn around and throw up nothing. You flexed shaking fingers into fists. Your stomach was turning inward. It’s been a while since you ate. Perhaps you should’ve brought something on your way here. Even if it was stopping at a konbini and picking up one of those stupid-ass nutrition cookies Aizawa used to eat for lunch every day of the week. You swallowed, shaking your head. Food can wait. You can wait three hours. If you eat, you’re going to stay nauseous and dizzy anyway… unless you do something about it.

With a shaking breath, you glanced over your shoulder then at the door. There was no charge down your spine, so no people were close by either. You flexed your hands again, eyes closed, counting your fingers rhythmically. The sparks died down. The pain became more discernible. Abdomen still fresh and oven-hot. Knuckles chaffed, raw, and bruised. Your legs: thighs sore from jumping during the mission, your left knee ached, and the top side of your right foot was especially tender. Your shoulders, your back, behind your head.

You kept the rhythm until your lungs demanded release. When you exhaled, the pain dwindled. Not completely. Warmth still lied below your skin, at a near simmer. When you opened your eyes though, the blacks and reds weren’t blurred together. They were a clear, albeit crooked mess. You fixed the red arm guards first. When that was done, you had enough energy to fix the rest of your uniform.

Daring to move around, you inspected your fixed outfit further. When it passed inspection, you grabbed your briefcase below the paper towel dispenser to your right. Hitching your breath, you reached for the black handle. Your right leg carried all the weight to avoid setting off a potential mine-field of injury. At first contact, you swung the case on top of the sink then opened it. There were many compartments at the top, one housed a phone the boss gave you, since your old one was collateral damage. There were few numbers inside the cell. Only the ones you thought were most important to include. One of them was for the agency medic, which you cleverly titled as “Medic” to make sure you don’t call more than necessary.

This development with his quirk, unfortunately, was necessary. Rocks filled your stomach. Your mouth feels like you ate gravel. You can hear his reaction to telling him his ‘all powerful quirk’ wasn’t helping like a future sense. He’d make the concussion he diagnosed you with worse if you called.

Wanting to grip the phone harder, you clenched your teeth. This whole thing was stupid. You could’ve kept your guard up. You could’ve stood up, knife be damned, and run after Akari. Stopped her. Asked her what the hell she was talking about— All these choices you could’ve made–all those years of training, and you still got a concussion. Seven minutes passed when you finished typing your little update. It was better to give him a heads up now. It helps against accusations of Akari annihilating your brain cells at the fight.

The next person you contacted was Athena, your Support Expert. It hasn’t been long, but you needed an update on something. Even if it was just your uniform and equipment.

The message itself was quick. Though, you couldn’t help following up by asking if she knew anything about one of the crime scenes. You then thanked her, again. Heaven knows you keep her busy when you need new equipment. During the past two years alone, you’ve asked a lot from her. Whether you needed a new arm guard, gauntlet, or a whole new uniform, she came through every time. It’s hard to get an SE who specializes specifically in power-based quirks. From what you’ve experienced, and heard from other heroes, most SEs don’t appreciate their designs getting decimated. Their creations are children in their eyes. Athena’s creations aren’t as precious in her eyes, by comparison. She has a spreadsheet dedicated to how long until the creations get busted. Keeping up with these records is her research. It changed constantly, telling her what works and when she needs to switch things up.

You should bring her something when all this is over, you thought. She deserved something nice. Something that says “I’m sorry for wrecking all the support items you made me during my missions, you’re the best SE ever!”

The phone went back inside of its compartment, next to the pouch where five hologram disks were held. A surge of panic came through you. Thinking of the horrific scenario of traveling all this way and forgetting essential items for your visit today. You tore open the pouch. Heart in your ears and heat crawling out your back. Two disks were labeled, three were not. “CS1” and “CS2” were in the pouch. Good. You glanced at the other objects in the case, double checking everything was there before you met up with the principal. Folders, notebooks, paperwork, until relief washed over you in a cool wave. Closing the briefcase, running your hand across the leather. Slowing down to trace the broken heart emblem, similar to the one on your breastplate.

Your power won’t get rid of the hammers in your skull, or the itch around stitch wire, but the thick material will prevent you from scratching. Plus, no one else would know about the other bumps and bruises beneath.

You got this.

Leaving the bathroom, you pulled out Hizashi’s instructions one more time. They were less blurry and a bit easier to understand. You may actually have a chance to get out of the maze disguised as your alma mater. Ironically enough, before you could turn the corner, a white rat-bear-dog shorter than a yard-stick— wearing a black vest, blocky, yellow shoes, and had a gangster scar across his eye—came around. “There you are! It really has been a long time,” he greeted, like you’ve seen him before. He didn’t give you time to respond to him, he just explained how he waited at the meeting spot until it occurred to him how long it’s been since you were a student. The principal also made many changes since the time you graduated, which he insisted on showing you. This welcoming gesture forced you to tail him around the floor, instead of simply going to the meeting spot. You didn’t like the idea of walking around, not with that flare up earlier. You were still abnormally sore. But he can’t know that. You squared your shoulders, nodded your head, and quietly marched on.

There weren’t many rooms to make note of. Most of them were regular classrooms. You already saw where the current classroom for 1-A was before you ran into Aizawa. Apparently your old classroom is being used for one of the first year general education courses. The principal asked if you’d like to look inside. You declined the offer politely. At the end of the day, it was just a room. Another room with desks, windows, and a chalkboard in the front. What more did you need to see? You didn’t explain that last part, obviously, and the principal went on talking about other changes around the school.

At one point, he interrupted himself, stopping in front of one of the other doors. This time he didn’t ask you before opening it. “And here is my office.” The principal revealed a room with a giant window behind a desk. The orange light from the rising sun shone through the window casting deep shadows on the office furniture. If you stepped closer, you’d see everything outside the window. The brightness made you queasy. You opted to focus on the gray couch instead. “It looks a little different compared to the last conversation we had here,” he commented.

‘Last conversation,’ you wondered. Then it hit you.

This principal wasn’t new.

Your principal never left UA. How you forgot your principal having a gangster-scar, you weren’t sure. There was no one like him. Absolutely no one that you’ve met.

Muffled words and a shadow in front of a stark blue window came to mind. Paws holding stacks of paper, hitting them against the desk to straighten them out. Were you supposed to add on to what he said? Were you supposed to apologize? He didn’t look unhappy.

But you could be wrong. Would it be a surprise if this was an act? Taking you on this walk so you’d waste your time telling him everything? You looked to the right and left side of the hallway. If the resources weren’t valuable then you’d walk yourself out first.

The principal didn’t follow up his statement with anything about the past or the future. He closed the door to his voice and rambled his way to nothing. He probably wanted to get a reaction out of you, but you were too confused to give him one.

After a while, the stitches got tighter. And tighter. And your legs were becoming sore. Of course, you clenched your jaw to keep quiet. If he caught on, he’ll send you to Recovery Girl then bye-bye. She hits you with her cane and Nezu could press a button to eject you from the building.

Honestly, where was Hizashi? You knew he was supposed to be busy with work last night, but he said he’d be here for the meeting. It was supposed to start soon and you don’t want to be in a room alone with a passive-aggressive rat-bear-principal. Maybe he was telling Nemuri you were in town.

Or maybe he would try to find Shouta and they could all be talking right now! Aizawa would tell him about you leaving him in the hallway, saying you were rude, demanding to know what’s going on. Aizawa was pushy enough. Hizashi would tell him about how you called him, hurt and asking for help. Despite Hizashi’s best intentions, Aizawa could use this information to raise doubt against you in the meeting. Get rid of you before you become a problem, his problem.

You needed to find Hizashi before that could happen.

As luck would have it, the tour was coming to an end. The last stop led to a blond man leaning against a door down the hall with his arms crossed. A blond man with a punk rock style and a speaker around his neck. A blond that bounced his knee impatiently because he couldn’t bear standing still.

Hizashi!

His head snapped in your direction. He, like a ray of sunshine, grinned ear to ear. “And look here, folks!” Hizashi rushed toward you, “coming out of the cage, ready for her GRAND COMEBACK–” you gripped your briefcase tighter, your eyes wide and almost bouncing, expecting impact. Hizashi pivoted around you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “It’s the Queen of Terror, Pro-Hero STRIFE!”

It’s been over five years since you’ve seen him in person, longer since he’s called you by your hero name. You beamed, he was here. In the same room, not across the world. You thought of hugging him, but stopped when you remembered your old principal was still here.

Hizashi moved closer, leaning into your face without such reservations. The amber reflection of your uniform was in his sunglasses. His hand dragged across your shoulder where the raised mending peaked. He looked toward the principal with his hand on the side of his mouth, like he was trying to tell you a secret. “I was waiting forever,” he fake-scolded, loud enough for the third party to hear.

Glancing at the principal, you saw he was watching the two of you. He had a smile on his face, but his eyes were blank. You stepped out of Hizashi’s grasp, standing properly. “I had trouble with the directions.”

“What? Getting rusty after being away for so long?” Heat rose to your ears. Of course you were going to be rusty. Did he really have to tease you about it now? “She really knows how to keep her fans at the edge of their seat,” he said to the principal casually, like he wasn’t Hizashi’s boss.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” the principal responded, making you aware of the side eye you were giving to your old friend. “I was giving Strife a tour of this floor. After all, I’m proud of the changes I made to UA since your graduating class. I couldn’t resist showing off to one of my former students. Strife has certainly grown from that child I remember.”

Hizashi agreed with your old principle with a joke. “I hope that’s a good thing.” But you know there’s no good way to interpret the statement. Not with what he said when he showed you his office. Who brings up a time where they had to talk with you in a GOOD way? It’s like when your parents brought up how one of your dad’s coworkers caught you sneaking a cookie from the agency's break room when you were supposed to stick to a meal plan. Like, “oh, we sure hope you have better impulse control compared to when you were eight, even if you do, we’re going to reference this story over and over again so you never forget your moral failure!” He’s wearing yellow sneakers with formal wear, why is he passive-aggressive!

The conversation didn’t go further, thankfully. “There is time before the meeting, I’m going to set up. Feel free to catch up here in the meantime,” said the principal. You both thanked him as he went into the room. The nausea came back at the sight of the wooden swirls closing, your heart was starting to pound. After all, maybe he was planning to air it out with an audience, you couldn’t know for sure with his emotionless eyes.

“Did you really not have nicer clothes,” Hizashi asked, breaking you out of your trance. He was loud enough for the whole building to hear.

Your nose scrunched. “The damage wasn’t THAT bad…”

Hizashi shook his head. “I’m not talking about the damage. Last time I saw you, there was more…” Hizashi held his hand out, waving it toward your body. He went through a jumble of words before he decided on one. “Color.”

The last time he saw you in person, you were twenty-four and in-between agencies again. He was celebrating the first anniversary of his show being picked up for a radio channel. After celebrating the anniversary, he took a short vacation out of the country. It was the first time he was allowed since his career started. When Hizashi finally arrived in the States, you wore a uniform. It had less hard armor and was more red. Red breast plate with your black broken-heart emblem, which resembled that old Pac-Man arcade game. Gauntlets with red finger and knuckle pieces and armguards to contrast the black base of the gloves. Some other details like the center of your knee and elbow pads, the tips of your boots, your utility belt, and other lines and trims followed,

Vibrant color bounced off the void background. In comparison, your current outfit was–

“You look like a common mall goth.” You tilt your head at him. Before you can say anything about calling you “common”, he continued. “Actually it’s worse!” Hizashi stepped closer to put his hands on your shoulders, pressing into the raised mark on the left. He leaned closer to your ear–was he always this touchy? He whispered, “you look emo.”

You punished him back, somewhat gently. “Hizashi, what the hell,” you said in English. Why was he making you worried over nothing! And calling you emo…

He laughed, wagging his finger at you like you were some brat. “Nuh uh uh. It’s Mic. We’re professionals and we’re working.”

“What do you mean ‘professionals’? What was professional about that!”

“I’m a radio host too, I have to play it to the crowd!”

You scanned the halls. “Where!” No one was here! A thud echoed across the empty hallway. In your confusion, you accidentally threw your briefcase across the hall. You stupidly remember the rule ‘no yelling in the hall!’ rule as black leather slid across the purple floor. Oops… You sigh as the briefcase spins to a stop.

Mic continued laughing. You grumbled, giving him your back as you approached the briefcase. To think, you considered hugging him earlier. The man walked behind you. “Don’t be so stiff!” You stared at the briefcase, almost rolling your eyes, he had no idea. You pondered how you were going to pick it up. If you did it the same way as you did in the bathroom, it would look suspicious. And dorky.

His eyes were on you, you could feel it. If you waited too long then Mic would volunteer to get it for you. That would make him ask questions though. “Right,” you broke the silence before he could. You squatted with bated breath to pick up the briefcase. Your knee almost popped and you wanted to tear into the wound, but you weren’t going to tell Mic that. Not now, at least.

Somewhere more private. AFTER you were sure he wouldn’t talk to Aizawa about anything. But first, you’d need to say you met him earlier and it didn’t go well. You can save Mic the drama, not going into specifics. Other than that, what’s one more thing to the pile? He’s in the dark about Akari, for now. He didn’t need to know Akari was the reason why you called him from your medic’s phone the other day, right this minute. You’ll have to go over everything in the meeting anyway, so why waste time?

“I would’ve gotten that,” said Mic.

“But you didn’t.” You shot back, harsher than you meant to. “It’s fine. I forgive you,” you stated with a pouty lip. You hoped the joke would mitigate the unintended force of your words. Mic probably didn’t notice, or he thought it was simply the set up to the punchline. “What have you been up to?”

Mic gave you an elaborate update on the past few weeks. His summer was busy since the Sports Festival. As usual, he was booked out when it came to the radio host and DJ gigs during the beginning of summer break. He told you all positive things. Dancing around All Might’s retirement as Number 1 Hero. You imagined he’d describe it as a certified downer if you asked. “...and our first years are about to go for their license!” Mic posed his hands in the rock and roll gesture.

“Wow, already? We had to wait until second year.”

“Because of all the villain attacks. It was decided it’d be better for the students to protect themselves without waiting for a hero’s permission.” There were no bells or whistles attached to the explanation. His hand gestures were minimal as well. While the idea of first years becoming skilled enough to get their license at a young age was impressive, there was no argument the circumstances weren’t ideal. First years shouldn’t have to deal with villains yet, but they have multiple times. Even in America, the youngest an applicant had to be was 17 to get their license. One of the perks of going to UA was being able to expedite the process and get your license when you were 16. You couldn’t imagine letting 15 year olds take the test in America. ”If you’ve watched the Sports Festival, then you know they’ll CRUSH it!” He punctuated the statement with his signature “YEAH!”, putting his hands in the air for extra dazzle.

A beat passed and he broke his pose, asking if you watched the Sports Festival. The question wasn’t as pumped compared to his previous statement. Guilt struck you. Another month’s gone by and you still haven’t watched your friends on International Television. “It’s okay if you didn’t!” He responded, obviously concerned.

“No, no, I’m sorry. I should’ve watched it by now. Work’s been crazy for months. I had to cancel TV because it was wasting money.”

Mic shrugged, with a relaxed expression on his face. “Don’t worry about it! I’m sure I can give you the highlight reel while you're in town. But seriously, you had to cancel TV? You need to give it a rest!”

“No, you have four jobs. I have no excuse–”

“Details!” Mic brushed off your response with his hand. “Y’know…” Mic’s hand went to his face to rub his chin. “You could help out with the first years with the exam. If you have time for it, it could be another paycheck and you can hang out with me,” he finished like you were a kid motivated by cookies.

You raised your eyebrow and shifted your weight to your back leg. “First you say “give it a rest” and now you want to give me more work?” He posed glamorously then switched to another with that somewhat implied you giving him a high-five, but it didn’t look quite right. “Not everyone can multitask like you, Mic.”

“I’m just saying you have the experience. You judged the licensing exams a crazy amount of times—and you mentored young heroes before.”

“I didn’t do any judging this year, and there’s a difference between the American licensing exam and the one here. Also, those heroes already graduated from their program, and I only helped them because I had to. I’m not a good mentor, and, from what you said, I’m sure whoever’s teaching the first years are doing fine on their own.”

Mic paused with his mouth slightly open. His teeth clenched. “About that–”

A colorful blur caught the corner of your eye, but it was too late. A massive weight slammed into your body. The briefcase flew from your hand. What the hell! Your throat squeezed, choking down any sound you could’ve made. First there was shock. Then fire. Then pain. Every. Single. Type.

Everything burned and your bones rattled you from the inside. You had to get this off! You wrapped your arms around, ready to pick up and throw it down the next floor.

Your shoulder shrieked back at the embrace, your legs weren’t fairing with the shift either. In this split-second processing of your senses, it was apparent the weight was particularly squishy in certain places. It had purple hair as well, and she was absolutely thrilled to see you.

Your eyes widened. You lifted Nemuri, having stopped midway from slamming her to the ground. Her stomach was at your eye-level as she laughed with joy. That was good, you set her down., her heels clicking on the floor. You could’ve really hurt her. “--didn’t tell me you were coming to town–got you at the airport! Look at YOU!” The squishiness against your body left, replaced by an ecstatic Nemuri squeezing your face. Fingers pressed your cheeks enough to make your lips puff out. You tried to respond to Nemuri, but you might as well have your mouth full of cookies. The questions kept coming. After a bunch of non-answers, Nemuri took her hands off. Of course it was sore, but it was nothing like the rest of you. Unlike with Mic, you KNEW Nemuri was this touchy. This happened so many times a single memory became a cluster of events.

She turned out of your hold, pointing at Mic aggressively. “Did you know our friend was coming here and NOT tell ME!”

The scene was soon drowned out by your beating heart. Mic’s sunglasses slipped down his nose revealing a panicked expression toward Nemuri. He held out your briefcase to shield himself from the heat of the backlash. He was talking fast, explaining himself. You pressed your lips tightly in contrast. If they weren’t then you’d pant like you did earlier.

Nausea arrived once again like a recurring nightmare. Placing your hand over the stitches to push through the thick material did nothing. As predicted, the pain couldn’t be snuffed out. Keeping your face neutral was an uphill battle between scalding heat and pure annoyance.

Screeching thoughts scolded you to ‘stop scratching!’

Then the surge came.

Mic and Midnight were focused on each other. One was mad, one was somewhat scared. It gave you something to work with. Your breath deepened as you flexed your palm against your uniform. Once again the pain separated and simmered down. The only agony on the surface was the itchiness of your wound. It wasn’t perfect. You just had to bear with it—the healing process.

And watch out for any other attacks from your friends.

The hand on your abdomen balled into a fist. An invisible knife stabbed back inside the wound. Hopefully, the pressure could substitute the need to claw at your skin until your insides spilled into a puddle on the floor.

Before you got comfortable, something to your left burned through you. Not from a wound, or your quirk. Someone watched you down the corridor. Turning your head, you lowered the invisible knife.

“Aizawa,” Mic called out to him, but didn’t get a response. Aizawa’s attention was on you. Did he see what you did? There was no way he saw the whole situation, you thought. Just when you shanked yourself with the imaginary shiv. Even if he brought it up, so what? It was weird, not illegal. “Look who’s here, isn’t this exciting!” Mic continued. The way Aizawa kept staring you down made it clear he was expecting you to flinch. Maybe you weren’t doing something illegal just now, but he can say you stormed off from him. Which is worse in this context. A lot worse.

Aizawa tucked a blue file folder he was looking over into his arm with the others. “We saw each other earlier,” he responded coldly. He wasn’t excited to see you. Not today. Not ever. You stood your ground, waiting for him to tell them you walked out on him again, but it never came. He moved past, preferring not to be in the same room with you more than he had to.

“That’s it! C’mon don’t be like that! How often do you get to see an old buddy?”

“Just stay for a minute!”

He continued on his path, not responding to any of their pleas until he reached the door handle. “The meeting is starting soon. Don’t block the door.” He went inside, the door clicking shut behind him with an echo.

“Harsh…” Mic said.

Midnight turned to you. “I thought he’d be happier,” she said wistfully. You don’t blame her for hoping.

You shrugged, lifting your hands. ‘It is what it is,’ you thought, not quite remembering a good translation.

Midnight hummed. Mic moved on from the initial shock, opting to check out the detailing on your briefcase. No follow up questions from either of them. Throughout the years, there was never a time either of them mentioned Aizawa being their coworker. Not that you should care. They didn’t have to tell you anything about what he was up to. If he wanted you to know he could’ve told you himself. Whatever he did was none of your business, so why would they tell you?

Maybe they should’ve. It certainly would’ve avoided this mess. Although, the thought didn’t cross Mic’s mind. He probably heard the muffled yells of the medic for you to give his phone back and dived in with no questions. No hesitation.

Nonetheless, he could’ve warned you about Aizawa in the email he sent you after. Did he think you wouldn't come back if you knew ahead of time—if you knew Aizawa would be here? Probably not, but damn, dude, give a warning.

Midnight broke through your thoughts, asking how long you were planning to stay. She comments on the tension without any out of pocket comparisons to the devil’s tango. You reassured her you should be gone in two weeks. If you were going to do your research here, no doubt it would be uncomfortable for her and Mic if that’s how you’re going to interact with their friend. “I hope we can do something while you’re here. It’ll be fun,” Midnight offered half-heartedly. Even if you sucked at keeping contact for the past year, she was still nice to you. Although, it’s doubtful you two would have time for each other while you were investigating and she does her jobs.

“Count me in!” Mic puts his free arm around your shoulders, he doesn’t add any pressure, but your arms squeezed into your ribs at the unintentional threat. Like one wrong move and your skin would seer through kevlar and leather. “We have to grab a bite!”

Your ears perk up, stomach coming to the forefront of your thoughts. You were drooling at the thought of finally being able to eat some bomb-ass food.

The passage of time went faster with the distracting fantasy. Not long after agreeing to Mic’s invitation of food, and having to hear a long list of places you couldn’t go to this very moment, the meeting was close to a start–made apparent by the next pro hero arriving to the meeting room. Your friends introduced you to another one of their coworkers, Snipe, who was dressed as a cowboy and actually packed heat.

The lovely thoughts and curiosity came to a halt upon entering the room. Aizawa glared at you for disrupting him from reading what he had in those folders. Without breaking eye contact you reached toward Mic so he could give you back your briefcase, so you could put it down somewhere.

Aizawa went back to his folders, rubbing his temple like your presence alone vexes him. You chose to place it in the corner of the room by a potted plant. You were careful not to grunt as you squatted. Ignoring the pain, you swiped the pattern on the briefcase, for good luck even if you hardly believe in such a thing.

Call it habit or instinct, but you glanced over your shoulder after. Of course, there was Aizawa. He eyeballed you, waiting for you to make a mistake. You clenched your jaw as you stood up again, adjusting your uniform before walking back toward Mic toward the center of the room. If Aizawa saw an opportunity, an opening to get rid of you, he’d pounce.

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #mha x female reader #retrospective by dot #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #whump #tw pain #yamada hizashi #nemuri kayama

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kingofbodyrolls · 4 months ago

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My Heart’s Home (m) | pjm | chapter 18

*this is a re-upload since I deleted my old account 🫣

Jungkook and your sister gets married and you can’t wait to marry the love of your life too.

→ Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc → Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. → AUs: ranch!au, slice of life!au, cowboy!au, soulmate!au → Genres: smut, humor, fluff, slow burn and angst → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact! → Chapter warnings: so much love, so much fluff, so many kisses, it’s wedding season yay, explicit description of sex; oral (female and male receiving), marking/biting (I swear they are not animals lol), dirty/sweet talk, multiple orgasms, spanking, nipple play, rough(er) sex, slight exhibitionism, caught in the act 👀 → Status: completed → Word count: 14.7k → Now playing “By My Side” by Rebecca Lavelle. → Author’s note: how are you all doing? We’re almost at the end of the road and I just wanted to say how thankful I am for each and everyone of you guys 😭💖 Especially to all of you that leave me nice, sweet, sad or yelling comments— truly you mean so much to me!! I’m sorry that some of you have dropped off, or stopped commenting, but, ah, it’s okay, even though it makes me wonder if you don’t like it anymore (which is also fine). I get too much into my head, lol. But I just wanted to say that I’m really grateful! Chapter 19 is the last ‘official’ chapter, as chapter 20 is the epilogue (with the Q&A I really hope that you’ll participate in /comment or ask/ otherwise it’s fine, I’ve already got a few questions lined up!). Thank you for joining me on this wild ride 💖 The song that Jimin is playing on the piano is “Love Somebody” by Lukas Graham. → Read on AO3? [link]

“Gonna throw my arms around you And hold you tight Gonna throw my arms around you We’re gonna dance all night” ‘By My Side’ by Rebecca Lavelle

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Everything is just going wrong.

The relentless heat pulls down on you like a vengeful sun god, threatening to sap every ounce of strength from your weary body until you collapse, a mere casualty of its unyielding fury.

As the high summer sun reigns supreme once more, you find yourself marveling at the passage of time, unable to comprehend that you’ve already spent two entire years in this place you call home.

Amidst the chaos of the ranch, the sheep have staged a daring escape from their paddock, their wooly forms darting erratically across the landscape. With determination etched on your faces, you, Jimin, Soo-ah, and Ara scramble to corral them, matching their frantic energy step for step, while Yoongi works tirelessly to mend the broken fence.

The urgency of your sister’s impending wedding hangs in the air, but the chaos of the ranch seems determined to steal the spotlight. Despite the pressing need to assist her in her preparations, you find yourself ensnared in the unpredictable drama unfolding outside. With a mixture of amusement and concern, you watch as your sister, clad in her elegant wedding gown, bravely joins the fray, chasing after a wayward sheep. The sight is both comical and endearing, though you can’t help but worry that her gown may carry the brunt of the day’s unexpected escapades, threatening to pollute the perfection of her special day.

“Jessi, get back inside and finish getting ready!” You shout over the clamor of bleating sheep, your voice laced with urgency as you dart between the animals, determined to block their escape routes and guide them back to safety.

She grumbles, her frustration palpable in the sweltering air. “No, everything’s a mess. I can’t in good conscience sit and wait for everyone to fix all of this,” she insists, gesturing emphatically to the banners and decorations hanging around the property, clinging on for dear life as if fighting against the relentless heat themselves.

“The cake hasn’t even arrived yet,” she starts, frustration evident in her voice, “and the food is still nowhere to be seen. The caterers are running late too, of course.”

With sheer determination, she seizes a sheep and drags it through the chaos of the yard, guiding it back into the pen with a triumphant grunt.

“Some of our friends are stuck in sudden traffic, on roads that are normally as deserted as ghost towns,” she hisses through clenched teeth while securing the gate, “it’s like everything is spiraling into a fucking disaster!”

“Look, I understand, but it would be a huge help if you could just head back inside, get ready, and make sure nothing happens to that dress,” you plead with your sister, feeling the weight of the chaotic situation. Behind you, Jimin appears, a silent but supportive presence.

“We’ll handle the sheep,” he reassures your sister with a warm smile, gently nudging her towards the house, but she remains adamant, refusing to heed reason.

“No,” she insists, determination blazing in her eyes as she rushes to corral another sheep, “We sort out these sheep first, then I’ll finish getting ready.”

You watch her dart around in slippers, makeup half-done, and hair neatly pinned, a whirlwind of determination amidst the chaos. It’s a surreal scene, part comedy, part calamity, and wholly ridiculous, you can’t help but think to yourself.

Jimin rolls his eyes in amused exasperation, and you both stand there, transfixed, watching your stubborn sister darting about like a whirlwind. It’s a spectacle of determination amidst the chaos, and you can’t help but be amazed by her tenacity.

“Should we do something to stop her, before she ruins her dress?” Jimin whispers, his concern evident in the furrow of his brows and the earnestness in his voice, as you both contemplate whether to intervene or let her stubborn determination play out.

“I don’t think we can do anything and I doubt either Jungkook or Jessi are too concerned about the dress at this point,” you chuckle, reminiscing about your sister's quip during her dress fittings, when she joked about Jungkook’s eagerness to tear it off. “But hey, at least it’ll make for a memorable story,” you add with a grin, watching as Jessi continues her frantic chase around the yard.

“Come on, let’s lend a hand and wrangle these wooly escape artists,” you suggest, a hint of determination in your voice. “We’re cutting it close to the ceremony, and I’d rather not be chasing sheep in a fancy dress any longer than necessary.” With a quick glance at Jimin, you dash off in pursuit of a particularly elusive sheep, the hem of your purple satin dress swishing around your ankles as you go.

With Jimin and Soo-ah at your heels, you plunge into the chaos of scampering sheep. Together, you dart and dive amidst the wooly fugitives, your hearts pounding in sync with the rhythm of the chase. With practiced precision, you snatch up stray sheep, your movements a blur of determination and adrenaline. Each successful capture is a victory, a step closer to restoring order to the ranch and salvaging the wedding day.

As you catch your breath, you scan the scene before you, noting your sister’s approach. Her once pristine dress is now adorned with streaks of dirt, a testament to her relentless pursuit of wayward sheep. Despite the disarray, her determined stride speaks volumes—this is a woman on a mission, unwilling to let even the chaos of runaway livestock derail her wedding day.

“You look like you’ve been wrestling with the sheep,” you tease, gesturing to the dirt stains on her dress, but she just shrugs it off with a determined grin.

“Are we done with the sheep now?” She asks, a wide grin on her face, a stark contrast to the chaos around you.

“I believe so,” you breathe out, your legs trembling slightly. You can’t help but note how out of shape you are.

“Alright. I’ll head back in and let Ha-rin work her magic on me,” she smiles at you before disappearing into the house.

Soo-ah and Ara comes bounding after her, declaring, “We need to get ready too!”

Both you and Jimin share a laugh at her eagerness, your hands finding each other naturally amidst the chaos.

“You look absolutely dashing in that suit,” you murmur, your fingers gently tracing the lines of his collar before drawing him closer for a tender kiss.

As you catch your breath, Jimin’s hand finds its place on your hips, a gentle reassurance amidst the chaos. “You look absolutely stunning in that satin dress,” he murmurs, his eyes alight with admiration as he drinks in your beauty.

His gaze intensifies, tracing the contours of your form with an unspoken hunger. In a moment of raw desire, he leans in for another kiss, his lips seeking the warmth of yours with a passion that ignites the air around you.

“Ahem,” as Yoongi clears his throat behind you, his interruption breaks the intimate moment with Jimin, drawing your attention away from his embrace. With a blush rising to your cheeks, you pivot to meet Yoongi’s gaze, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement at being caught in such a tender exchange.

Yoongi’s furrowed brow accentuates his concern as he addresses the emerging problem, “I’ve finished fixing the fence, but should we let Jessi know about the horses breaking out?”

Your sudden pivot towards Yoongi, eyes wide with concern, mirrors the rush of hopelessness engulfing you. “Shit, they have?” You blurt out, your voice tinged with urgency.

Jimin’s expression mirrors your own mix of surprise and weariness. “Definitely don’t tell her that,” he agrees, his voice tinged with a hint of dread.

With a frustrated grumble, you snatch the hair elastic from your locks, securing the hem of your dress around the thickest parts of your thighs. Thankfully, you’re in boots, not the heels meant for the wedding. “We have to round them up too,” you sigh, starting towards the stables and the adjacent paddock.

As you, your boyfriend, and Yoongi approach the paddock, it becomes evident that the fences remain intact; rather, it seems someone neglected to secure the gate.

You release a frustrated sigh. “Such a silly mistake. It’s probably one of the city guests,” you grumble, eyeing the horses as they gallop around the yard in front of the stables.

“At least they’re just out here,” Yoongi says, his voice tinged with a touch of defeat, “so we don’t have to saddle up a horse to get them.”

“Let’s get to work then,” Jimin says, his determination cutting through the weariness as he strides towards Marshmallow, while you head over to Mikrokosmos. Yoongi takes charge of Cinnamon and the other horses, a sense of urgency in his movements.

The three of you work in unison, coaxing and guiding the remaining horses back into their stalls. With each successful capture, you can’t help but feel the weight of the day pressing down on you. If it were your wedding day, you’d likely be a wreck with all these mishaps, but your sister’s calm demeanor is a stark contrast. She’s handling it with remarkable ease, almost too casual given the circumstances.

“Alright, now that we’ve sorted out the horse situation, let’s head down to the terrace and ensure everything’s set up perfectly before we check on Jessi,” Jimin suggests, a warm smile gracing his lips as he takes your hand, leading the way to the terrace.

As Yoongi trails closely behind, you descend to the terrace, greeted by a scene far from the envisioned perfection. String lights hang precariously, as if ready to tumble, the floral archway stands incomplete, and the chairs remain stacked, untouched.

“Who the fuck thought this half-assed setup was acceptable?” You exclaim, gesturing to the haphazard scene that falls far short of wedding readiness.

“We better get it sorted, and quick,” Yoongi declares, already diving into action to rectify the situation. He swiftly begins readjusting the string lights, wrapping them securely around the wooden poles on the terrace.

You stride purposefully towards the archway, the symbolic heart of your sister’s impending union with Jungkook. Your hands reach for the scattered roses, their rich red hue a testament to passion and enduring love. Though not Jessi’s favorite, she chose them for their timeless significance in romance. With meticulous care, you intertwine the roses through the wire of the archway, each blooming a promise of the love that will be declared beneath its embrace.

As you weave the roses through the archway, your thoughts drift to the upcoming wedding ceremony. It’s endearing that Jessi and Jungkook chose this picturesque terrace for their special day. With a wistful smile, you envision your own future nuptials with Jimin, the love of your life. Your gaze falls to your hand, where the glimmering purple gemstone of your ring catches the sunlight, casting a kaleidoscope of colors. You wonder, will your wedding day unfold flawlessly, bathed in perfection, or will it, like today, be a delicate balance of chaos and charm?

Jimin meticulously arranges the chairs in front of the archway, and you find yourself stealing glances at him, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence. The mere thought of marrying him sends a flurry of butterflies dancing in your stomach, anticipation and love intertwining in a beautiful symphony.

As Yoongi finishes with the string lights, he joins you at the archway, carefully weaving more lights into its frame. The vision of the terrace illuminated in the soft glow of the lights fills your mind with anticipation, imagining how enchanting it will look as night falls.

“Should I add some light to the piano too?” Yoongi’s voice breaks through the bustling scene, his eyes flickering between you and Jimin. Jimin responds with a nod, a smile gracing his lips, affirming the idea with silent approval.

“That’s a brilliant idea,” you remark, a glint of excitement dancing in your eyes. You adore the thought of Jimin serenading the wedding guests with his piano. His decision to bring it here fills you with anticipation, especially knowing he’ll grace the event with his melodious voice. Each note he plays and every lyric he sings has a magical way of captivating your soul, tugging at the strings of your heart with its angelic resonance.

Just the thought is already setting your heart aflutter, anticipating the magic it will bring to the celebration.

As the thorn pricks your finger, a sharp curse escapes your lips, its sting piercing through the bustling preparations. Glancing down, you find a tiny droplet of blood welling up at the tip of your thumb. Grimacing at the inconvenience, you apply pressure to staunch the flow, though it continues to seep through. Jimin’s concerned voice breaks through the chaos, drawing his attention to your injury. “Did you cut yourself?” He inquires, his eyes scanning your hand with worry.

“Yeah, these damn roses,” frustration drips from your words as you lament the troublesome roses, a hint of exasperation coloring your tone. Jimin’s gentle touch on your hand soothes the irritation, his concern palpable as he inspects the injury. With a relieved sigh, you notice the bleeding has ceased, a silent testament to his comforting presence. “I don’t think I want roses at our wedding,” you quip, a wry smile tugging at your lips amidst the chaos.

“I want anything you want,” he murmurs, his voice a soft reassurance amidst the chaos, “if you don’t want roses, we’ll find some other flowers.” His words carry a promise, a vow to prioritize your desires above all else, igniting a warmth in your heart that transcends the fleeting mishaps of the day.

You smile at your fiancé, a surge of affection welling up within you, and you lean in to seal the moment with a tender kiss, a silent promise of love and unity amidst the whirlwind of preparations.

“Looks like everything’s finally falling into place,” Yoongi remarks with a satisfied grin, stepping back to admire the twinkling string lights, casting a warm glow over the terrace.

You all pause to soak in the scene before you; the chairs adorned with soft white fabric, carefully tied with dashes of vibrant red, adding a touch of elegance. The archway bursts with the crimson hue of roses, their lush green leaves accentuating their beauty. Everywhere, string lights dance in the gentle breeze, casting a warm glow, even delicately draped around the microphone stationed before the piano, completing the enchanting ambiance.

“I think we’re done too. Great work, everyone!” You beam with pride, clapping for Yoongi and Jimin, feeling a sense of accomplishment wash over you. With the decorations sorted, your attention shifts to the remaining tasks: ensuring the food, cake, and guests are all in order, and most importantly, attending to your sister’s needs on her special day.

“Could one of you give Jungkook a quick check-in? I’ll go see how Jessi’s doing,” you suggest, a warm smile gracing your lips as you loosen the hair tie around your dress, allowing it to cascade back into its original position.

“Alright, I’ll catch up with my brother,” Jimin volunteers, planting a tender kiss on your lips before you make your way into the house.

As you step into your sister’s room, Ha-rin is meticulously tending to her, perfecting both her hair and makeup. The sight that meets your eyes takes your breath away: your sister’s hair is elegantly styled, cascading in a charming bob adorned with delicate flowers, while her makeup adds a subtle glow, accentuating her natural beauty with finesse.

“You look absolutely stunning,” you whisper, your voice quivering with emotion. You fight back tears, determined not to smudge your own makeup. Save it for later, you remind yourself, knowing there will be countless moments ahead to let your emotions flow.

“Thank you,” she replies with a smile, but there's a hint of unease in her eyes, a flicker of something unspoken.

“What’s wrong?” You inquire, a mix of curiosity and concern lacing your words.

“Well,” she begins, her voice tinged with disappointment, “the caterer called. They can’t make it. There’s some kind of accident on the road, making it impossible for them to get here.” Your eyes widen, and your heart sinks to the floor at the news.

“Which also means that some of the guests are stuck in said traffic,” she adds, her voice deflated, mirroring your own sinking feeling.

“Oh no,” you murmur, sinking onto the edge of her bed, the weight of the unexpected news heavy on your shoulders.

“I can whip up some quick food for everybody,” Ha-rin offers, her nimble fingers deftly placing more flower pins in your sister’s hair, her voice a beacon of hope amidst the uncertainty.

“Really?” Jessi’s eyes widen with a mix of surprise and gratitude. “If it’s not too much trouble for you, you are also a guest, you know. You’re not supposed to be working.”

“Yes, it’s fine. You know I love to cook, and I’ll call Seokjin and ask if he can come now and help,” she says, her smile radiating reassurance, a beacon of calm amid the chaos.

“What about the guests that can’t get here in time?” you inquire, a small smile playing on your lips, though worry lingers beneath the surface.

“That’s just too bad for them. We are sticking to the schedule. I think the most important people are here anyway,” she declares with a soft smile gracing her lips. You catch the glint in her eyes, brimming with excitement as she eagerly anticipates marrying the love of her life.

“Eh, what about the cake?” You interject, a sudden realization dawning on you as you recall the neglected task.

“It’s on its way, but also stuck in traffic,” your sister replies with a smile, her words laced with optimism. “It’s okay. Today will still be the best day of my life, even if some things are missing. Those little hiccups won’t dim the magic of this moment.”

You smile, grateful for her resilient outlook on things.

Ha-rin’s already on the phone with Seokjin, and he’s assured them he and Namjoon are on their way, ready to lend a hand in the kitchen. Ha-rin’s already bustling downstairs, preparing to whip up something quick.

Feeling the tension lift, you place a reassuring hand on your sister’s shoulder as she sits before her vanity. Meeting her gaze in the mirror, you ask, “Are you ready?”

Her reflection grins back, “Yeah, I’m ready.”

“I wish mom was here, or my dad,” her words carry a weight of longing as she smiles, a melancholy veil over her features. You nod in silent understanding. The absence of loved ones, especially on such a significant day, leaves an unmistakable void. It’s a sentiment you’ve grappled with too, ever since Jimin proposed. The thought lingers – the absence of your father to walk you down the aisle. Yet, in that moment, you realize something profound: tradition holds less significance when you’re confident in your own capability, as is your sister.

“I’ll head downstairs to check on the guests, alright? It’s nearly time. But don’t worry, I’ll be back to escort you when the moment arrives,” you assure her with a warm smile, offering a comforting squeeze of her hand before swiftly exiting the room.

You rush downstairs, finding Ha-rin already engrossed in her culinary wizardry. Then, darting outside to the terrace, you scan the arrivals. Among them are your dearest friends, recognizable instantly amidst the gathering crowd. Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon, Taehyung, Soo-ah, Ara, your fiancé, and Seokjin hustle past you, bound for the kitchen. Each one exudes a magnetic charm, their presence lending an air of elegance and anticipation to the gathering.

You make your way to Jimin, curiosity piqued. “Where’s your brother?”

Jimin lets out a nervous chuckle, his hand reaching up to scratch his head. “He’s running a bit late. His truck had a flat tire.”

You groan in exasperation, a blend of frustration and humor evident in your voice. “Oh my god. Nothing is going the way that it’s supposed to today, is it?”

“He’ll be here soon, everything will be fine,” he reassures you, his touch warm and reassuring as he gently lifts your hand for a quick, comforting kiss.

As you scan the gathering, more familiar faces start to trickle in — friends and family you rarely get the chance to see. With a warm smile, you greet each one, exchanging brief but heartfelt words, all the while hoping fervently that the ceremony will indeed begin soon.

As you usher people to their seats in front of the archway, a distant rumble draws your attention. Your heart skips a beat, hoping it’s Jungkook arriving at last. But as the vehicle draws nearer, relief washes over you; it’s the officiator, whom you had completely forgotten about until now. Despite the oversight, you’re grateful for his timely arrival.

The officiator hurries out of his car, a hint of urgency in his steps as he apologizes for being late. You offer a reassuring smile, assuring him that it’s alright, and in fact, the groom has yet to arrive, so his timing couldn’t be better.

With a surge of anxious energy, you fish out your phone from your purse and glance at the time. Jungkook should have arrived by now, and the knot of worry tightens in your stomach. The anticipation builds, your nerves tingling as if it were your own wedding day unraveling before you.

The distant growl of a dirt bike engine reaches your ears, and instinctively, you know it’s Jungkook. The rhythmic scrape of tires against earth crescendos as he maneuvers closer, the anticipation heightening with each passing moment. Finally, he parks beside the terrace, his arrival marking a crucial piece falling into place in the intricate mosaic of the day’s events.

As he removes his helmet, his ebony locks cascade in disarray, adding an untamed allure to his rugged appearance. Clad in a sleek black tux, he exudes an effortless charm that catches your eye. With a casual sweep of his hand through his tousled hair, he strides toward you, a grin illuminating his features like a beacon of warmth amidst the day’s chaos.

With a sheepish grin, Jungkook offers his apologies for his tardiness, his words tumbling out in a rush of explanation. “I’m so sorry for being late. I couldn’t find a spare tire for the truck, so I took the bike. How’s everything going?”

You fill Jungkook in on the current chaos with a reassuring smile, noting the absence of food and cake but the improvised efforts of Ha-rin and Seokjin. As you steady him with a grip on his arm, you notice his restless energy. “Well, most people have arrived, the food and cake is missing, but Ha-rin and Seokjin are whipping something up instead, and Jessi is waiting upstairs for her cue,” you say, your tone calm amidst the flurry. “Are you nervous?”

Jungkook beams back, his excitement palpable. “No, I’m just excited,” he replies, his grin infectious, spreading warmth through his words.

“Great, if you head over to the archway, I’ll go fetch Jessi,” you say, your smile encouraging as you give his hand a reassuring squeeze before heading off to find your sister.

You rush back upstairs to your sister’s bedroom and discover her in tears, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. Concern floods through you as you hasten to her side, enfolding her in a protective embrace. “What’s happened?” You inquire urgently, your voice laced with worry.

Your sister’s current state is unusual, adding to your concern. It’s rare to see her like this, and that’s what’s truly troubling you.

Her breaths come in ragged gasps, as if each one is a battle. “The nerves are getting to me,” she manages between uneven breaths.

You come to a poignant realization in that moment—beneath her resilient exterior lies vulnerability, just like anyone else. Wrapping your arms around her, you offer solace, acknowledging her humanity. “It’s all gonna be okay. Kook’s here, looking so damn handsome,” you assure her, hoping to ease her nerves.

Your reassuring touch rests gently on her shoulders as you offer comforting words. “Despite the chaos earlier, everything’s set. The only thing missing downstairs is you,” you assure her, conveying both readiness and anticipation for the momentous occasion awaiting her.

With a soft sniffle, she delicately dabs at her tears, ensuring her makeup remains flawless, a determined effort not to let her emotions overshadow her beauty.

“I’m ready, let's go,” she declares, her voice steadying with determination, a final sniffle betraying her resolve as she stands up, ready to face the moment head-on.

Despite the smudges of dirt along the hem of her dress, she radiates an undeniable beauty, the gown hugging her form like it was made for her alone.

As her fingers intertwine with yours, a silent bond of sisterly solidarity forms. Descending the staircase together, you halt at the threshold of the terrace, stealing a fleeting moment to convey your unwavering support. “Remember, I love you, and everything will fall into place. It’s your time now. Go out there and claim your happiness.”

With a radiant smile in return, she embraces the moment, and you dash outside to join the assembly, making your way to the archway where Jungkook, Jimin, and the officiator stand. As you position yourself as your sister’s bridesmaid, a swell of emotion overtakes you at the sight of the gathered guests. Tears well in your eyes, understanding the depth of this moment for your sister, realizing the profound emotions that accompany such a significant occasion.

As the doors swing open, all heads turn in unison, anticipation palpable in the air. Your sister emerges, a mix of nerves and joy evident in her demeanor. Yet, as her gaze meets Jungkook’s beaming expression, a radiant smile blooms across her face, erasing any lingering apprehension and filling the space with an undeniable warmth.

She steps forward to join Jungkook, their eyes locking in a tender exchange that speaks volumes of their profound affection. Despite the nerves dancing in their gazes, their smiles radiate pure happiness, a testament to the depth of their bond. Witnessing their intertwined emotions, a blend of excitement and anticipation, fills you with a rush of affectionate fondness for the pair before you.

The officiant’s voice resonates, carrying the weight of solemnity and celebration, as he addresses the gathered assembly. “Welcome, cherished family, beloved friends, and dear ones,” he begins, his words weaving a tapestry of unity and affection. “Today, amidst this gathering of love, we commemorate the union of Jungkook and Jessi. In this moment, we stand witness to their profound commitment and rejoice in the boundless love that binds their hearts together, forging a path illuminated by devotion and shared dreams.”

As the officiant continues, his words become an intimate embrace of the couple’s journey, weaving anecdotes of triumphs and trials into a tapestry of enduring love. Each word seems to resonate with the experiences of Jungkook and Jessi, casting a warm glow of recognition and affirmation upon their union. You find yourself smiling, touched by the authenticity and depth of his words, which echo the resilience and commitment that define their relationship.

A wave of emotion washes over you, tightening your throat with a profound sense of affection. Glancing at your fiancé, you find him equally moved, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears yet radiant with a tender smile. His gaze flits between Jungkook, Jessi, and you, each glance brimming with pride and adoration for the bond being celebrated before you.

A hush falls over the gathered guests, anticipation crackling in the air like static electricity, as they collectively grasp the significance of the moment unfolding before them: the exchange of vows.

With a gentle smile gracing his lips, the officiant beckons Jungkook and Jessi to take each other’s hands and stand face to face. “Now,” he says softly, “Jungkook and Jessi, it's time to share the promises you’ve crafted for each other. Let your hearts speak.”

Jungkook inhales deeply, gathering his emotions before he begins. “I, Jungkook, take you, Jessi, just as you are,” he starts, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “From this day forward, I vow to cherish you, to love you with all my heart. You’ve been my friend since the day I moved next door, and through it all, you’ve been there for me, calling me out on my bullshit and lifting me up when I stumbled. Your kindness and love have shaped me in ways I can’t even begin to express. I promise to make every day with you an adventure, to fill our lives with joy and laughter, and to remain faithful to you as we grow old together. I can’t wait to share all my hopes and dreams with you. This, I solemnly pledge to you.”

Tears blur your vision, and you blink rapidly, trying to regain your composure. A glance at Jimin confirms that you’re not alone in your emotional response; his eyes glisten with unshed tears. Around you, guests grapple with their own emotions, alternating between soft sniffles and heartfelt chuckles.

Jimin, by Jungkook’s side, produces the ring, its glimmering presence a testament to their shared journey. You witness Jessi’s trembling anticipation, her eyes shining with love as Jungkook presents her with the ring, a symbol of their commitment. As the ring slips onto her finger, Jessi’s smile breaks through her tears, her emotions overflowing in a silent testament to their love.

Amidst laughter and tears, Jessi’s voice breaks through in a heartfelt chuckle, echoing the sentiment of everyone present. “How can I follow that?” She manages to say, her words laced with emotion, yet filled with joy.

With a determined resolve, Jessi straightens her posture, her gaze locked onto Jungkook’s, as if he’s the sole focus in the crowd. “I, Jessi, take you, Jungkook, as you are,” she begins, her voice unwavering, “and I promise from this day forward to love you with all my heart, to cherish you forever, even when you're being an idiot.” A ripple of laughter passes through the guests, but Jessi continues undeterred. “When I first met you, I knew we would become the bestest of friends,” she recounts warmly, “and though we have both been blind to our love for each other, we’ve always been there since day one. Our love is a slow one, and I can’t wait to watch it build even stronger over time. I promise to always be there for you, like I always have, and to spend eternity with you.”

Your vision blurs with tears again, rendering everything a watery haze. Yet, through the mist, you witness Jessi slipping the ring onto Jungkook’s finger with a tenderness that speaks volumes. They share a fleeting glance, a silent exchange of vows in their eyes, before the officiant’s voice pierces through the moment once more.

“With your declarations of love echoing through the hearts of all gathered here today, surrounded by the embrace of loved ones, I now, with the authority bestowed upon me, declare you husband and wife. You may seal your union with a kiss,” the officiant proclaims, his words resonating with warmth and joy as he steps back, leaving the newlyweds bathed in the glow of love’s triumph.

As Jungkook and Jessi’s lips meet in a tender embrace, a wave of exuberance sweeps through the crowd, erupting in cheers, applause, and jubilant shouts. Their kiss ignites a symphony of celebration, laughter mingling with the joyous cacophony. With twinkling eyes and contagious smiles, they break apart briefly, their hands raised in a playful display before succumbing once more to the intoxicating magic of their love, sealing their union with another tender kiss.

They gracefully traverse the grassy aisle, and each step resonates with the harmony of their newfound bond. With every footfall, the air is charged with a palpable sense of unity and joy. You intertwine your fingers with Jimin’s, the warmth of his hand a comforting reassurance amidst the whirlwind of emotions. Together, you and the jubilant assembly trail behind the newlyweds, a vibrant procession of love and celebration, each heartbeat echoing the symphony of affection that fills the air.

In a cascade of affection, you envelop both your sister and Jungkook in a tight embrace, the culmination of their love story tangible in this moment of love. Around you, friends and family converge, their outstretched arms forming a tapestry of heartfelt congratulations, woven with laughter, tears, and boundless joy.

Music fills the air, and Ha-rin and Seokjin’s culinary creations adorn the tables, tempting guests to indulge in a symphony of flavors. Conversations hum with warmth and laughter, a mosaic of shared stories and heartfelt connections, as you and Jimin navigate the lively gathering hand in hand, savoring each moment together amidst the festive atmosphere.

The day wanes into twilight, as the sun’s golden embrace yields to the subtle allure of dusk, the terrace transforms beneath the twinkling glow of the string lights. Their radiant beams cast a spell, painting the scene with an ethereal glow that could rival the most picturesque of rom-com settings. It’s as if the very essence of cinematic romance has descended upon this moment, wrapping you in its embrace and etching this day into the annals of timeless love stories.

As the delectable flavors crafted by Ha-rin and Seokjin dance on your taste buds, satiating your hunger, Jimin gracefully makes his way to the piano, his fingers poised to weave magic into the air. Eagerly, you join him, settling onto the bench beside him, anticipation coursing through your veins like an electric current, ready to be swept away by the enchanting melody he’s about to conjure.

As the final strains of music dissolve into the air, Jimin’s fingers hover over the piano keys, poised like a painter about to create a masterpiece. With the gentle caress of his touch, the first note emerges, followed by the sweet cadence of his voice, weaving a spell that ensnares your soul. Mesmerized, you surrender to the enchantment of his performance, each note a whisper of passion, each melody a testament to his mastery. His presence is magnetic, drawing you into a realm where time stands still and only the harmonies of love prevail.

He serenades with a Lukas Graham melody, and Jimin’s voice transcends mere sound, becoming an ethereal cascade of emotion. “When you say, you love the way I make you feel, everything becomes so real,” his words weave a tapestry of raw vulnerability, each syllable a tender embrace. “Don’t be scared, no, don’t be scared, cause you’re all I need,” he implores, his voice carrying the weight of a thousand promises. In that moment, surrounded by the twilight glow and the soft murmur of the evening, his melody becomes an anthem of love, resonating deep within your heart.

You glance around, the scene unfolds like a painting of affectionate vignettes; couples swaying cheek to cheek in perfect synchrony, their souls intertwined in the dance of love. Among them, your sister and Jungkook move with a grace that transcends mere steps, their hearts beating as one, their eyes locked in a silent promise of forever. In the soft glow of the string lights, their love is a radiant beacon, illuminating the night with its undeniable warmth and beauty.

Jimin’s fingers glide with effortless grace over the piano keys, and you find yourself swaying gently to the rhythm of the song next to him, enveloped in a cocoon of love. His voice, like a velvet caress, fills the air with each heartfelt lyric, each note resonating deep within your soul. “All my life,” he sings, his voice carrying the weight of every emotion, “I thought it’d be hard to find the one, ‘till I found you, and I find it bittersweet, ‘cause you gave me something to lose.” In that moment, surrounded by the soft glow of the string lights and the warmth of your loved ones, you realize that this is exactly where you belong—lost in the melody of love, with Jimin by your side.

As those words echo through the melody, they strike a chord deep within you, resonating with the profound love you hold for Jimin. Each syllable encapsulates the essence of your bond, stirring emotions you never knew existed. Tears brim in your eyes, a testament to the overwhelming beauty of the moment, as your heart dances to the rhythm of the keys, synchronizing with the song of your soulmate’s love.

“But when you love someone, you open up your heart. When you love someone, you make room. If you love someone, and you’re not afraid to lose ‘em,” Jimin’s voice caresses each note, weaving a tapestry of emotions, and you find yourself spellbound by his heartfelt rendition. His words resonate deep within your soul, stirring a kaleidoscope of feelings. You can’t help but wonder if he’s serenading you, but in this moment, it doesn’t matter. The beauty of his melody transcends any specific recipient, filling the air with pure, unadulterated love. Your heart swells with an indescribable joy, as if each note is a love letter written just for you.

As the final notes of the song fade into the night, Jimin’s eyes find yours, ablaze with an intensity that leaves you breathless. Without a word, he closes the distance between you, his touch gentle yet electrifying as his lips meet yours in a passionate embrace. In that fleeting moment, it’s as if time itself stands still, the world around you fading into insignificance as you’re enveloped in the warmth of his love. It’s a collision of souls, a cosmic dance orchestrated just for the two of you. As you part, his forehead presses against yours, his eyes searching yours with an unwavering devotion. “I love you,” he whispers, each word a promise etched into the fabric of the universe.

Tears glisten in your eyes as you tenderly place your hands over his, cradling them against your cheeks. “I love you too,” you murmur, the words carrying the weight of a lifetime of shared dreams and unspoken promises.

The music surges to life once more, transforming into an upbeat melody that ignites the crowd with infectious energy, prompting everyone to leap and sway with unbridled joy.

As you sit beside Jimin, enveloped in the vibrant atmosphere, you find solace in the simple act of watching people twirl and sway to the music. With his hand clasped in yours, you observe the dance floor come to life: Soo-ah and Namjoon’s laughter fills the air as they spin in rhythm, while Ara and Taehyung move with effortless grace, lost in the moment.

You glance across the dance floor, and you catch sight of Yoongi and Hoseok swaying in perfect harmony, their laughter echoing amidst the music. Their closeness and whispered words spark a curiosity that draws your attention, and as they slip away toward the stables, a spontaneous laugh escapes your lips.

You lean into Jimin’s embrace, a soft smile gracing your lips as you observe your sister and Jungkook engaged in their playful dance-off. Their competitive spirits shine through as they showcase their moves, each trying to outdo the other in a lighthearted battle for dance floor supremacy. Their energy is infectious, eliciting an affectionate eye roll from you as you revel in the joyous atmosphere of the moment alongside Jimin.

Just as you turn away, a tender moment catches your eye: Ha-rin leans in to kiss Seokjin, their affectionate gesture weaving seamlessly into the vibrant tapestry of the celebration. A warm smile plays on your lips, touched by the sight of their love blossoming amidst the festivities.

You turn towards Jimin, drawn by the magnetic pull of his presence, and nestle into his side, seeking solace in the comfort of his embrace. Your fingers intertwine naturally, a silent affirmation of your connection, as you both linger in the tranquil embrace of your love.

As you bask in the serene moment with Jimin, a voice pierces through the tranquility from behind, jolting you back to the present. “I’m so sorry I’m late, but I’m here with the cake!”

You pivot around to behold a lady cradling the cake in her arms, an emblem of sweet relief amidst the festivities. You hasten to her side, extending a hand to aid her with the burden. “It’s fine. It’s the perfect time,” you reassure her, your words resonating with a sense of gratitude and eagerness.

You delicately position the cake on the table, its presence a timely marvel as the moment for cake-cutting approaches. Its arrival couldn’t have been more opportune, aligning seamlessly with the proceedings.

Jungkook and your sister approach the cake, their smiles radiant like two love-struck souls lost in their own world. With synchronized movements, they cut into the cake, their laughter filling the air as they distribute slices to each guest, their joy contagious and palpable.

The cake is a divine delight, each bite a symphony of flavors dancing on your taste buds. As you indulge in its sweetness, laughter and chatter fill the air, accompanied by clinks of glasses as you toast to love and happiness.

As you sway in Jimin’s arms, the music enveloping you in its rhythm, you catch a glimpse of Yoongi and Hoseok returning to the dance floor. There’s a playful glint in Yoongi’s eyes that you recognize all too well, and it’s contagious. You exchange knowing smiles, a silent acknowledgment of mischief, before returning to the dance with renewed energy.

As the night wanes and the stars twinkle above, casting their celestial glow, you find yourselves reluctant to bid farewell to the festivities. However, the time has come for your sister and Jungkook to embark on their honeymoon adventure.

“Where’s the grand destination?” You inquire, your curiosity piqued by the air of mystery surrounding your sister and Jungkook’s travel plans. Her recent penchant for secrecy has only added to your intrigue, leaving you eager for her revelation.

“I’ll tell you once we’re back from our adventure in two weeks,” she teases, a playful glint in her eye as she envelops you in a warm embrace, leaving you hanging in suspense yet again.

You join the embrace, enveloping Jungkook in a heartfelt hug, your words tinged with genuine warmth as you wish them an unforgettable honeymoon filled with love and laughter.

Returning home without your sister feels unsettling. The once lively corridors now echo with emptiness, leaving you with an unexpected sense of loneliness that you struggle to shake off. It’s a feeling you find discomforting, one that drives you back to Jimin’s comforting embrace. His home has evolved into your sanctuary, a place where warmth and familiarity envelop you like a cozy blanket— a home. In quiet conversations with Jimin, you’ve explored the idea of making a home together after marriage, and the anticipation thrills you to your core. The thought of sharing your life with him under one roof fills you with an eager longing that grows with each passing day.

You’ve made a pact to hold off until your sister and Jungkook return from their honeymoon, a decision born out of respect for their special time together. It’s a waiting game, albeit a challenging one, as each day stretches out like a tantalizing promise of what’s to come. In the meantime, you find solace in the anticipation, savoring the moments spent with Jimin while eagerly counting down the days until you can officially start your life together.

In the tranquil embrace of his ranch, each morning unfolds like a cherished ritual shared with your beloved fiancé. As the sun paints the horizon with hues of amber and gold, you find yourself enveloped in his arms, where every embrace whispers promises of forever. Here, amidst the rustle of the breeze and the gentle melody of nature, you discover a sense of belonging that transcends mere walls and roofs— it’s a sanctuary where your heart finds its true home.

As the day unfolds, you immerse yourself in the untamed beauty of the ranch, working alongside Yoongi and Hoseok to master the art of taming wild horses. Amidst the spirited dance between human and horse, Taehyung often joins, his curiosity piqued by the mesmerizing spectacle before him.

Amidst the flurry of ranch chores and horse training sessions, you’ve carved out precious moments to steal away with Jimin. Today, you’re escaping into the embrace of nature together, saddling up for a romantic horseback ride—a date brimming with the promise of adventure and love.

You and Jimin emerge from the stables, the weight of the world left behind as you venture into the boundless expanse of the countryside. Direction matters little when you’re with Jimin, your heart’s compass guiding you both through fields of golden grass and beneath a sky ablaze with the hues of twilight.

You soar over the rolling hills, weaving through dense forests, embraced by the remaining warmth of the sun and the playful caress of the wind through your hair. In this exhilarating moment, your heart sings with joy, knowing that you share this breathtaking experience with Jimin by your side, his laughter mingling with the melody of nature.

“Should we take a break?” You propose, feeling the thrill of the ride tingling in your veins after half an hour of journeying. The landscape around you is alive with the pulse of nature, a vibrant painting stretching as far as the eye can see. Though the ranch isn’t too distant, the distance you’ve covered has infused the air with an electrifying sense of adventure.

You both dismount your horses, the soft rustle of grass underfoot as you settle on the grassy ground. Nearby, your horses graze contentedly, a peaceful symphony of munching filling the air as you recline beside each other, basking in the tranquil moment together.

Jimin settles in behind you, enveloping you in his protective embrace, his warmth seeping into your skin. With a tender gesture, he rests his head on your shoulder, his breath soft against your neck as he whispers, “What’s on your mind?”

You lean into his touch, finding solace in the rhythmic pulse of his heartbeat against your back, a steady reassurance in the chaos of your thoughts. “Lately, I’ve been grappling with something,” you admit, the weight of your words heavy on your tongue. But this sentiment has lingered for a while, and you’ve mulled it over countless times. “I don’t feel like home feels like home anymore. I really want to move in with you because your space, your presence, it feels like home— where I belong, you know?”

Jimin nods in understanding, his warm breath tickling your skin as he speaks. “Yeah, I remember you mentioning that, love.”

“Do you think Jungkook will move in with Jessi then? Not that I don’t want to live here with your brothers,” you rush to add, ensuring you don’t overstep. You love his brothers, and you don’t really want them to leave either. But you also know your sister and Jungkook. It would be hell to live in the same house as them. You can still vividly recall that week at your place where you didn’t get any sleep because of all the sounds they were making.

Jimin chuckles softly, his warm breath tickling your ear, “I don’t know actually. But I think we can talk to them when they get back. We’re all grown people, I think they would understand that we want to live together, and I think they want that for themselves too. We just have to figure out the logistics.” His voice is reassuring, carrying a hint of excitement for the future.

You laugh softly, the sound blending with the rustle of the breeze, realizing the truth in his words. With a playful nudge, you lean further into his comforting embrace, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek, a silent promise of solidarity and affection.

“I love you more than words can express, Jimin,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the soft rustle of the leaves. As his warm breath caresses your neck, you feel a surge of emotion, a wave of affection that envelops you like a gentle breeze, leaving you breathless and longing for more.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your neck in a tender kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. In that moment, you feel as if the world around you fades away, leaving only the warmth of his embrace and the flutter of butterflies in your stomach, reminding you of the depth of your affection for him.

“Something else has been on my mind too,” you begin, your voice trembling with lust as he peppers kisses along your neck. Each touch ignites a spark within you, urging you to share your thoughts with him, knowing that in his embrace, you’ll find comfort and understanding.

As his lips and tongue dance across your neck, eliciting soft gasps from your lips, you feel a surge of desire mingled with the need to express yourself. He doesn’t utter a word, but his gentle encouragement in the form of subtle sounds spurs you on, urging you to share your thoughts amidst the sensual distraction of his touch.

Amidst the tantalizing sensation of his kisses, you muster a chuckle, the playful warmth of the moment infusing your words with a light-hearted tone. “I’ve been thinking about breeding,” you confess, the words punctuated by a giggle as the ticklish sensation creeps in.

“That is one sexy way to open up for the baby talk,” he laughs, his tone playful yet tinged with a hint of desire, punctuated by a teasing nip at your neck.

“I’m not talking about us, you silly goof,” you chuckle, playfully rolling your eyes as you struggle to keep your thoughts on track.

“I’m talking about Mikrokosmos,” you clarify, your voice steadier now, with a touch of affection.

Jimin pulls back slightly, attempting to meet your gaze, though it’s a bit challenging at this angle. “Wait, are you serious?” He asks, a mix of surprise and curiosity in his tone.

“Yeah, she’s so pretty. I think she’ll have some beautiful foals, don’t you think?” You ask, a spark of excitement dancing in your eyes.

“Yeah, that’s actually a good idea. Do you want to train the foals yourself then?” He asks, resting his head back on your shoulder, his voice tinged with curiosity and anticipation.

“Yeah. I think it’ll be fun. Do you want to help me?” You ask, your voice filled with excitement and a hint of playfulness, your smile evident in your tone even if he can’t see it.

“Of course, love. I’d do anything for you,” he murmurs, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he leans in to kiss your neck again, his devotion evident in every touch.

“Thank you,” you express with a heartfelt squeeze as you hug him, your gratitude washing over you. Rising from the grass, you extend your hand to him, pulling him up with a gentle tug, ready to embark on whatever adventures lie ahead, hand in hand.

As you ride back home together, the anticipation of a warm meal awaiting you adds to the comfort of returning. Upon arrival, the aroma of leftovers tantalizes your senses, drawing you into the kitchen where Taehyung is already at work. His cheerful presence fills the room, a welcome sight in the otherwise empty house. With the others engrossed in their respective tasks, it’s just the three of you, creating a cozy atmosphere that wraps around you like a familiar embrace.

“Sorry, I was hungry,” Taehyung offers with a sheepish grin, his eyes bright with mischief as he waits for the microwave to do its magic.

“No worries, Taehyung. We’ve all been there,” Jimin reassures him with a gentle pat on the shoulder. You can’t help but beam at the sight. Lately, their bond has been strengthening, and it warms your heart to see Taehyung integrating into the family he never knew he had, his kindness shining through every interaction.

Jimin swiftly plates some food for both you and himself, and just as Taehyung’s microwave timer dings, Jimin prioritizes serving your meal first, his actions speaking volumes about his thoughtfulness and care.

As the aroma of the freshly heated food fills the air, the three of you gather around the cozy kitchen table, ready to savor the meal together.

“Any idea when Jessi and Jungkook will be back?” Taehyung inquires, taking a sip of his water, his curiosity palpable in the air.

“They should be back in about a week,” you respond, a gentle smile gracing your lips as you anticipate their return.

“That’s awesome. I didn’t really get a chance to hang out with him much before they left for the honeymoon. I’m really looking forward to getting to know him better,” he adds, his face lighting up with a wide, eager grin.

“You’ll have plenty of opportunities,” Jimin reassures him, his smile warm and encouraging.

Taehyung turns to you with sudden curiosity. “Do you know if Ara has a boyfriend?”

You burst into laughter, nearly spilling your food—a tragedy, considering Jimin’s delicious cooking. “She’s single. I noticed you two dancing at the wedding. Do you like her?”

His smile brightens, infectiously so, prompting a grin from you and even Jimin. Taehyung nods, a subtle blush tinging his cheeks. “Yeah, she’s cute.”

“You should ask her out on a date, I think she likes you too,” you encourage with a smile, offering a supportive thumbs-up.

The laughter of both you and Jimin resonates through the living room in the early night, your bodies intertwined as you lounge on the couch, the TV playing in the background. However, your attention isn’t on the screen; instead, you’ve lowered the volume, delving into a meaningful conversation.

“Love, we’ve made love in just about every corner of this place,” Jimin teases, his laughter light and playful, his hand warm on your thigh. His smile, with those endearing crooked teeth, ignites a rush of excitement within you, your heart quickening its pace, while butterflies flutter fiercely in your stomach.

“No, I don’t think we have,” you reply, shaking your head, mischief twinkling in your eyes as you mentally scan every surface you’ve ever had sex on.

“We’ve done it on the kitchen table, in the tub, under the shower, on the bed, even in the stables, and don't forget the truck and outside,” he rattles off, a devilish grin playing on his lips as he recalls each rendezvous. His gaze smolders with desire as he tightens his grip on your thigh, drawing you closer until your breaths mingle, noses touching in an electric exchange of heat.

He leans into you, his warm breath grazing your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, “Am I forgetting something?” His voice is laden with a playful tease, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, igniting a fiery anticipation between you.

Your breath hitches, and you feel the shiver travel from your spine down to your core. “I don’t think so,” you manage to whisper, the arousal pulsing through every fiber of your being.

Your hands rest on his chest as you inch yourself closer, almost straddling his lap. “But we haven’t done it on the couch yet,” you murmur, feeling the heat between you rising with each word, the anticipation electrifying the air.

“Are you sure? It seems weird that we haven’t done it here yet,” he muses, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

He presses you down into the plush of the couch, his weight against you, his eyes shimmering with a mixture of love and lust, a smile playing on his lips like a love-struck fool. “Let’s add it to the list then,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, sending a thrill coursing through you.

He presses his hips against yours, igniting a surge of desire as you release a needy moan. Your hands find their way to his ribs, fingers curling in lust, while he leans in to kiss you fervently, starting at your lips before trailing down to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a deliciously tantalizing manner, gently biting it.

He groans softly, his lips and tongue creating a work of art on your neck, leaving you breathless and yearning for more of his electrifying touch.

“Oh, Jimin... I’m already so wet,” you moan, the intensity of his movements against your pussy sending waves of pleasure through you.

“Really?” He murmurs huskily in your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “I’ve barely even touched you, love,” he adds, his voice dripping with desire and a hint of something dangerous that leaves you eager for more.

His erection is evident against you, firm and eager, as you trace the outline of his dick through his jeans. “I want to feel you,” you breathe out, your voice laced with urgency and desire.

His movements send shivers down your spine, igniting every nerve ending as he presses cock against you with fervor. “I wanna touch you too,” he whispers, his breath hitching with anticipation.

With tender hands, he skillfully undoes the button of your jeans, sliding them off your legs with a gentle tug. As your shirt slips away, revealing the curves he knows so well, his gaze lingers on your form clad in your lacy underwear, a mixture of desire and adoration shining in his eyes. “You’re stunning,” he murmurs, his voice a soft caress against your skin.

With a shy smile at his praise, you shift closer, eager to explore every inch of him. As his shirt joins yours on the floor, you're met with the sight of his sculpted physique, each muscle defined by hard work and dedication. His skin, bathed in a golden glow, invites your touch, and as your fingertips trace the lines of his abs, a soft chuckle escapes his lips, a melody that makes your heart flutter.

With a sense of urgency, your fingers deftly work at his pants, swiftly undoing them before pushing him back onto the couch. As you remove his trousers, he’s left clad only in his black boxers, a sight that ignites a primal desire within you. His form, outlined by the fabric, is a tantalizing tease, and you can’t resist the urge to trace the contours of his dick. The sound of his pleasure as you touch him sends a jolt of electricity through you, fueling your own growing need.

“I wanna taste you,” you murmur, your voice laced with desire as you tantalizingly hover over him.

“I wanna taste you too, love,” he responds, a smile playing on his lips as he eagerly joins in, slipping his fingers into his boxers. With your help, they slide down, revealing his cock, standing proudly before you. It’s tall and girthy, the veins almost look like they might be popping out of his skin. The head looks a bit red and you salivate watching how it twitches.

The sight of him, so raw and eager, ignites a fire within you. You just want to ravish him or for him to ravish you.

You pause to savor the sight of him, every line and curve, every mark and scar telling a story of his strength and resilience. His form is nothing short of captivating, each imperfection only adding to his allure. You find yourself biting down on your lip, a mix of desire and adoration coursing through you.

You release the clasp of your bra, letting it cascade to the floor, joining the pile of discarded garments. Cupping your breasts with your hands, you bring them together, feeling their weight and softness against your palms. The hunger in Jimin's eyes intensifies, his gaze smoldering with desire as he emits a guttural groan, his longing palpable in the air.

You pinch your nipples as you moan, “Touch me Jimin.”

He doesn’t need a second invitation, his urgency palpable as he rises swiftly, his hands assertive as they press you down, swiftly removing your panties with an almost primal force, the fabric of the lace yielding to his determination. As his lips claim yours in a fervent kiss, his journey of passion descends, tracing a path from your mouth to the curve of your neck, lingering at each delicate contour, before cascading further, worshiping the expanse of your collarbones, and finally descending to the tender terrain of your chest.

His touch envelops your curves, a symphony of desire as his hand caresses your breasts, each kiss a testament to his adoration. “These tits,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin, “are so fucking beautiful.” His words, like velvet, echo with reverence, igniting a flame of passion that dances between you.

You can feel his dick on your wet pussy, and God, every fiber of your body yearns for him to just plunge into you like this.

He moves up from your chest, his eyes lock onto yours, ablaze with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine, “Should we do each other at the same time?”

A surge of excitement pulses through you as you bite your lip, meeting his gaze with a mixture of anticipation and desire. Without hesitation, Jimin reclines, his eyes dark with longing. “Sit on my face, love,” he murmurs, his voice thick with need.

A shiver courses through you at his command, a soft moan escaping your lips as you position yourself above him with your head facing towards his dick, your breath hitching with anticipation. With trembling anticipation, you lower yourself onto his face, the electric sensation of his tongue against your most sensitive areas sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. As he expertly explores every curve and crevice, igniting a fire within you, you can’t help but lose yourself in the intoxicating rhythm of his touch.

With a feverish urgency, your fingers wrap around his dick, eliciting a primal growl from deep within his chest as he bucks against your touch, his desire palpable in the air. Every stroke sends shivers down his spine, his breath growing ragged as you stoke the flames of his arousal, your movements synchronized with the rhythm of his tongue against your pussy.

You lower your head with a hungry eagerness, your tongue tracing a tantalizing path along his cock, teasing him. The tangy sweetness of his precum dances across your taste buds, igniting a fiery hunger within you as you savor the familiar flavor that never fails to drive you wild with longing.

Why does he always taste so good?

You stroke him slowly, relishing the way his cock pulses eagerly in your hands, aching to be engulfed by your warm, wet mouth. You’re acutely aware of the hunger in his gaze, even though you can’t see his eyes. You’re sure he longs to feel your mouth around his dick, just like you can’t wait for him to fill it up.

It’s almost impossible to concentrate on anything other than the electrifying sensation of Jimin’s skilled tongue exploring every inch of your aching pussy, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. Each flick and swirl of his tongue feels like a symphony of ecstasy, igniting a firestorm of desire that consumes your every thought and leaves you gasping for more. It’s so hard to focus on his dick and you can’t help when you press your pussy more onto his face.

“Fuck, Jimin, I’m gonna come soon,” you gasp, your voice a desperate plea as waves of pleasure threaten to overwhelm your senses. You can feel the heat building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter, ready to explode into ecstasy at any moment. His tongue works its magic with sinful expertise, driving you to the brink of oblivion with each tantalizing stroke.

As the overwhelming pleasure of his tongue’s expertise threatens to consume you entirely, you’re suddenly struck with a fierce need for him in return. Releasing his throbbing length from your grasp, you shift your focus, your hands now finding purchase on his strong thighs. With a hunger that burns as fervently as the desire coursing through your veins, you lower yourself onto him, welcoming his dick into the warmth of your mouth. As you close your lips around him, engulfing him in a dizzying sensation of heat and wetness, his response is immediate—a guttural cry that resonates with raw need and primal desire.

You begin to suck him and with each sultry movement of your lips, you draw him deeper, setting a rhythm that ignites a symphony of pleasure between you. His fervent thrusts match the urgency of your ministrations. Sensing his need, you yield further, allowing him to claim your mouth completely, your jaw slackening to accommodate his cock.

You surrender to the dual sensations coursing through you, each touch a symphony of pleasure orchestrated by desire. As he lavishes attention on your clit with fervent suction, you reciprocate with eager enthusiasm, welcoming him deeper into your mouth with each rhythmic thrust.

Your nails sink into the warmth of his flesh, urging him on with an intensity born of unbridled desire. With each press of your fingertips, you silently convey the urgency pulsating within you, a primal need for more, faster, harder. As his pace quickens in response to your silent plea, you find yourself teetering on the edge of euphoria, close to the brink of release.

Every nerve in your body ignites with a ferocious intensity, each sensation amplified tenfold as the coil of pleasure tightens within you, threatening to engulf your senses. Your toes curl involuntarily, a reflexive response to the overwhelming ecstasy coursing through your veins. But you find yourself torn between the desire to alert Jimin to your impending climax and the overwhelming sensation of his mouth on your clit, sending waves of electric pleasure coursing through your body. As saliva pools in your mouth and tears of pleasure blur your vision, you surrender to the maelstrom of sensations, your grip on his thighs tightening with an urgency born of unbridled desire.

You don’t know how to alert him with his cock stuffed so good inside your mouth, but it’s too late anyway when you feel your pussy clenching hard.

As the waves of pleasure crash over you in a torrential downpour, Jimin’s relentless tongue continues its sensual assault, sending shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through every fiber of your being. Your body convulses uncontrollably above him, each movement a testament to the overwhelming intensity of your release. With ragged breaths escaping through your nose, you vocalize your euphoria around his dick, your moans merging with the rhythmic thrusts of his hips as he continues to drive deeper into your quivering form.

Your body trembles with the lingering aftershocks of pleasure as Jimin’s tantalizing lips and sinful tongue work their magic, leaving you teetering on the edge of sanity. Just when you think you can’t take any more, a sharp spank ignites a jolt of electricity through your senses, urging you to lift your ass from his mesmerizing grasp.

With a soft pop, you relinquish his dick from your mouth, only to eagerly turn around on the couch, pulling him into a passionate kiss that sets your soul ablaze.

With a husky breath, he pulls back, his eyes smoldering with a primal hunger that sends a bolt of anticipation coursing through your veins. “God, I can’t wait to be inside you,” he growls, his voice dripping with raw desire.

“On all fours, ass up.”

His commanding tone sparks a delicious thrill, igniting a cascade of sensations that leave you trembling in anticipation. As he instructs you to assume the position, your body responds instinctively, a surge of heat flooding your core as you eagerly comply. Turning on the couch, you present yourself on all fours, your hands resting on the armrest, your ass raised in a provocative invitation that sets his primal instincts ablaze.

Jimin’s primal groan fills the room, his desire palpable as he beholds your enticing display. His teeth sink into his lip with a hunger that borders on desperation, so much so that he might draw blood, his gaze devouring every inch of your exposed form. With a possessive grip, his hands caress the curves of your ass, his touch igniting a fiery sensation that courses through your veins. Then, in a bold declaration of his desire, he delivers a sharp spank, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, your moan of delight echoing in the air.

“Fuck. This. Ass,” his voice drips with raw desire, his fingers tracing the contours of your ass with a feather-light touch that sends electric currents dancing across your skin. A rush of anticipation floods your senses, your pussy pulsating with need, aching for his touch. With each stroke of his fingers, your pussy clenches involuntarily, yearning for the sensation of him buried deep inside you.

He sits up, gets closer to you as he takes a moment to stroke himself, the anticipation mounting with each passing second. As he spreads your ass cheeks, you feel the heat of his cock radiating against your skin, your body trembling in anticipation as his dick teases your entrance, aching for the moment he fills you completely.

With your head nestled on the armrest, you brace yourself for the exquisite sensation of him entering you. As he pushes his dick into your slick folds, you revel in the delightful stretch, a familiar pleasure that never fails to ignite your senses. Your wetness provides a smooth glide, allowing him to effortlessly slide into your depths, each inch sending ripples of ecstasy coursing through your body.

“Jimin-ah!” You pant desperately as he reaches the hilt, your voice a breathy plea echoing through the room. With every pulse of his hardness inside your pulsating pussy, you feel an electric surge of desire coursing through your veins, igniting a firestorm of sensations that consume you completely.

“Move, please,” you plead, your voice a fervent prayer as you ache for his rhythm to ignite the blaze within you. All you crave is the sensation of him thrusting into you, to fuck you silly.

He grunts, a primal sound echoing in the room, as he withdraws from you with deliberate slowness, savoring every inch of your bodies against each other, before plunging back in, equally unhurried.

His hands, firm yet tender, mold into the curves of your ass, guiding each deliberate thrust as he establishes a rhythm of unhurried passion. With every stroke, his fingertips trace the lines of your skin, igniting a symphony of sensations that draw forth an involuntary moan of pleasure from deep within you.

His hand connects with a sharp slap against your skin, sending a jolt of sensation coursing through your body. The sudden sting is quickly followed by a surge of desire, igniting a primal need within you. His voice, laced with desire and dominance, breaks the silence as he leans in, breath hot against your ear, “You like this, don’t you?”

His tone carries a hint of menace, but beneath it all, there’s an undeniable allure that sends shivers down your spine. Despite the edge to his voice, it’s like music to your ears, stirring a primal longing deep within you. Your body reacts instinctively, tightening around his dick as a rush of heat floods your senses.

“Yes!” Your voice, muffled by the plush fabric of the armrest, comes out as a breathy plea, tinged with a mix of desire and desperation.

“Fuck me harder,” you plead with him.

“My love wants it harder?” As his words dance provocatively in the air, you can’t help but feel a rush of heat surging through your veins.

The playful sting of his palm against your skin ignites a primal fire within you, each slap echoing like a thunderous drumbeat, urging you further into the depths of ecstasy. With each resounding impact, the floodgates of desire open wider, drenching you in a wetness of arousal that threatens to consume every inch of your being.

“Yes!” Your voice reverberates through the room, a primal cry of desire echoing off the walls as you eagerly meet his every movement.

But just when you think you’ve reached the pinnacle of pleasure, grinding your ass into his dick, he takes control, his grip on your flesh tightening as he unleashes a torrent of raw thrusts. With each thunderous thrust, he fucks you with insane speed, leaving you gasping for breath.

You feel so fucking gone. He hits you so deep, his dick touching your g-spot repeatedly, making you see white spots blurring your vision. You’re panting furiously for air.

“You’re doing so good, love,” he pants, his voice a husky whisper as he strokes your ass, his praise a melody in your ears.

“Jimin, fuck, Jimin—” You pant feverishly, feeling your core tighten as you release a surge of liquid around his dick, coating him in your essence.

His hand connects with your ass in a stinging slap before his touch gentles, caressing the same spot. “So good for me, love,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire and affection.

His grip tightens on your hips, anchoring you to him as the rhythm of your bodies creates a symphony of skin-on-skin percussion that reverberates through the living room. Your fingers dig into the plush fabric of the armrest, muffling your moans as pleasure courses through every fiber of your being.

“Don’t silence yourself, love. I’m close,” he urges, his voice strained with the impending release as his thrusts become more urgent, each one driving you both closer to the edge.

You arch your back further, surrendering to his touch as his hand on your shoulder guides you closer, deeper into him. The sensation of him stretching you out sends waves of ecstasy coursing through your body, causing your eyes to roll back in sheer pleasure.

As he moans your name, his fingers grip the flesh of your hips and ass, holding you close as he releases inside you, filling you with his warm essence.

Your eyes snap open, meeting a pair of startled gazes—one belonging to Yoongi, the other to Taehyung. They stand frozen in the hallway, mouths agape, caught in an unexpected moment of intimacy that leaves them speechless.

Despite the sudden intrusion, Jimin doesn’t miss a beat, continuing to thrust into you. Embarrassment floods through you, but your body responds involuntarily, clenching around him. As you steal a glance, you catch the shift in Yoongi’s expression, his grin widening as he swiftly ushers a stunned Taehyung away from the unexpected scene they’ve stumbled upon.

“Aish! Oh my god! I never wanted to witness my brother doing that. I can never unsee it,” Taehyung’s exasperated voice echoes through the room as Yoongi swiftly escorts him out, the sound of the door opening and closing marking their hasty exit.

Your cheeks burn as you scold yourself for not hearing them entering the house. Fuck this is so humiliating!

Fuck. Did Jimin even notice?

Jimin’s deep, primal grunt resonates above you, his grip on your hips firm as the fusion of his essence and yours traces a sensual path from your pussy down to the couch. The thought of cleaning up later flits briefly through your mind, but that’s not currently what’s on your mind.

“Jimin, did you see them? They saw us!” Your voice trembles with embarrassment, a veil of crimson coating your cheeks as he withdraws from you. With a whirl of nervous energy, you spin around, anticipation and apprehension swirling in your gaze, unsure of what awaits in the aftermath of your indiscretion.

“Yeah. It’s nothing they haven’t seen before,” he chuckles, his nonchalant demeanor a stark contrast to the flush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. With a casual sweep of his hand through his tousled hair, he dismisses any concern, seemingly unfazed by the fact that his brother and friend just bore witness to the raw intensity of him fucking you on the couch.

“They’ve never actually seen us in the act before!” Your words quiver with a mix of mortification and disbelief, a nervous energy pulsating through your veins. As you speak, a torrent of thoughts floods your mind, the realization dawning upon you that this isn’t the first instance of Jimin’s cavalier attitude toward almost getting caught.

A nagging suspicion takes root, whispering that maybe he’s more of an exhibitionist than you initially realized, his nonchalance hinting at a hidden desire to be seen and desired.

“Relax, everything will be alright,” he soothes, his words a balm to your frazzled nerves as he descends to kiss you with a fervor that steals your breath away. In that fleeting moment, his lips melding with yours in a passionate embrace, the world falls away, and the weight of their discovery fades into insignificance.

But the embarrassment returns tenfold, making you blush nervously.

You burst through the door, the cool night air enveloping you in its embrace as you step onto the dimly lit porch. There, illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight, you find both Yoongi and Taehyung, their silhouettes etched against the darkness like guardians of the night, their presence casting a sense of both comfort and nervousness as you join them under the star-studded sky.

Despite feeling overwhelmed with embarrassment, an earnest desire to apologize gnaws at you, urging you to seek redemption for the awkward encounter they witnessed earlier. However, as your gaze locks with theirs, a wave of crimson floods your cheeks.

“I’m so fucking sorry you had to see that,” you blurt out, the weight of your remorse heavy in your voice as you hastily grab a nearby chair, seeking solace in its familiarity. With a deep breath, you settle into your seat, mustering the courage to meet the gaze of both men, your eyes pleading for forgiveness and understanding amidst the awkward tension that hangs in the air.

Yoongi’s laughter fills the night air, a reassuring melody that eases the tension swirling around you. “It’s all good,” he reassures with a grin, his words carrying a playful charm that lifts the weight off your shoulders. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he adds, “And hey, I gotta give credit where it’s due— you’ve got quite a nice pair of tits there.”

“Yoongi!” Your voice rises, cheeks ablaze with a fiery hue that mirrors the heat surging through your body.

“You’re gay, for heaven’s sake! Why were you even looking?” The mix of incredulity and embarrassment colors your words as you groan, feeling like you've been caught in a whirlwind of awkwardness and heat.

“I’m only human, aren’t I? Even I have eyes,” he retorts with a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, the glint in his eye unapologetically rebellious. “And let’s be honest, a nice pair of tits is something anyone can appreciate,” he adds, punctuating his declaration with a casual sip of his beer, his nonchalant demeanor daring you to challenge his unabashed honesty.

Taehyung’s eyes widen, a silent testament to the shock that grips him, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that speaks volumes. In the hushed moment that follows, his silence echoes louder than words, hinting at the depth of his surprise and leaving you to wonder what thoughts race behind his startled expression.

“I’m truly sorry, Tae,” you confess, your words heavy with remorse, but as you speak, you notice his gaze drifting past you, as if unable to meet your eyes directly. It’s as though his sight is fixed on some distant point, his avoidance speaking volumes about the weight of his own thoughts and emotions swirling beneath the surface.

“You really shouldn’t do that where just anyone could stumble upon you,” he advises in a hushed tone, his voice carrying the weight of a clandestine revelation. “And for everyone’s sake, remember to lock the door next time,” he adds, his tone laced with a palpable sense of having witnessed something he'd rather erase from memory.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, your words carrying the weight of genuine remorse as you seek to mend the discomfort lingering in the air.

“I never wanted to witness my brother in such a way,” he grits through clenched teeth, his fingers pressing against his closed eyelids in a futile attempt to erase the images burned into his mind. “Seeing too much of both my brother and sister-in-law... it’s like a stain on my memory,” he confesses, his voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and discomfort, as if grappling with the irreversibility of what he’s witnessed.

“I’m truly, deeply sorry,” you mumble once more, the weight of regret heavy in your voice as you reflect on the discomfort your actions caused them. The image of you and Jimin in that compromising position hangs in the air, an undeniable reminder of a moment you wish could be erased from memory entirely.

Yoongi’s laughter erupts like a thunderclap, breaking the tension with its raw, unrestrained force. “Welcome to the country,” he chuckles, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and nonchalance. “Get used to it. People fuck where they can around here. Hobi and I once stumbled upon them making lovely noises in the stables,” he shares with a mischievous glint in his eye, as if unveiling a scandalous secret of the country’s unconventional norms.

Taehyung’s eyes widen in disbelief, the shock evident in the trembling of his lips as he utters, “Is nowhere sacred?”

“Yoongi! You promised never to speak of that again!” You hiss through gritted teeth, your cheeks ablaze with the heat of embarrassment.

Yoongi’s laughter intensifies, a raucous melody that dances on the edge of defiance. “It’s just a natural act— it’s just sex,” he remarks, his tone casual as he lifts the beer to his lips for another sip.

“No need to get your panties in a twist,” he adds, the nonchalant shrug in his demeanor daring you to challenge the simplicity with which he views such intimate moments.

“Hey. Not all of us enjoy watching other people have sex,” Taehyung interjects, his voice carrying a note of reprimand, his arms folding across his chest in a stance of firm disapproval.

“Sorry. We didn’t mean for you to see it,” you gulp, feeling the weight of his disapproval settle heavily upon you. You grasp the gravity of his words; it’s not as though you relish being under scrutiny. It was an unplanned moment of passion. Yet, the realization dawns that you must exercise greater caution in the future.

“I couldn’t care less,” Yoongi rasps, his tone edged with a hint of amusement. “In fact, I’m thrilled you’re getting dick,” he adds with a smirk, his words laced with a playful irreverence that cuts through the tension.

Taehyung coughs abruptly, a spluttering fit seizing him as his beer takes a perilous detour down the wrong passage, his eyes widening in alarm as he struggles to regain composure amidst the unexpected onslaught.

You cast a concerned glance his way, your instinctive response guiding your hand to rest gently on his back, offering a reassuring touch in his moment of distress.

You chuckle nervously, stealing a glance at Yoongi, your cheeks ablaze with a mixture of embarrassment and unabashed honesty. “It’s really good dick,” you admit, your voice tinged with a hint of bashfulness. “Probably the best I’ve ever had,” you confess, your words carrying the weight of a guilty pleasure you can’t quite resist.

Taehyung continues to cough, his struggle for breath punctuating the air with urgency, until finally, with a resigned groan, he declares, “And this is my cue to leave.”

With a lingering glance filled with a mixture of discomfort and amusement, Taehyung slips away, his departure palpable in the weight of his heavy breaths echoing in the wake of his exit, leaving the two of you to grapple with the aftermath of his abrupt departure.

“Did we push him too far?” You offer a wry smile, the regret evident in the furrow of your brow as you grapple with the realization that Taehyung was undoubtedly made uncomfortable by the situation.

“He will be fine. He needs to grow up,” Yoongi leans in, his demeanor conspiratorial as he gestures towards the table, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. “But let’s get back to the real topic at hand. Tell me more about Jimin’s dick,” he continues, his tone suggestive as he shifts the conversation back to the matter of Jimin's prowess.

Your cheeks flare with renewed heat, betraying your unease as a nervous chuckle escapes your lips. “Hold on, are you getting off on this?” You inquire incredulously, your disbelief evident as you ponder the motivations behind his eagerness to delve deeper into the topic.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, not at all. I’m just looking out for you, as your best friend,” he reassures, the sincerity in his tone cutting through any lingering doubts. “I’ve got enough dick in my life,” he adds with a casual sip of his beer, before continuing, “But if you ever need to share or talk about it, you know I’m here. You probably don’t want to talk to your sister or Jungkook about it.”

You groan, a mix of frustration and reluctant acknowledgment washing over you, because deep down, you know he’s spot-on. Sharing such intimate details with your sister or Jungkook? Absolutely out of the question.

As you ponder, you realize you’re not exactly prudish, but the thought of discussing sex openly still makes you squirm. Yet, you also recognize the importance of breaking free from societal taboos surrounding the topic. It’s something you’re determined to improve upon, because there shouldn’t be any shame attached to open dialogue about such a natural aspect of human experience.

Leaning in closer, you confide, “Let me tell you, Jimin’s got some serious skills with both his dick and his tongue. It’s... impressive, to say the least, and that’s all I’m gonna share for now,” you admit, a nervous chuckle bubbling up as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks. Despite the embarrassment, you can’t help but feel a sense of pride in yourself for opening up about such intimate details with your best friend.

“I’m happy for you, truly,” he says with a warm smile, his eyes reflecting the depth of his sincerity. In response, you can’t help but return the smile, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over you as you bask in the warmth of your cherished friendship.

“What about you and Hobi?” you inquire, the lingering blush of embarrassment gradually receding from your cheeks, replaced by a genuine curiosity about your friend’s own romantic endeavors.

He reclines in his chair, a contented smile gracing his lips. “It’s great, actually. Better than ever,” he shares, his voice laced with affection and a profound sense of happiness. “I love him more than words can express,” he adds, his gaze distant yet filled with the warmth of unwavering devotion.

As you nod in understanding, a surge of warmth floods your chest as you catch the unmistakable gleam of adoration in his eyes whenever Hoseok’s name is mentioned. It’s a sight that fills you with a sense of profound joy, your heart swelling with the love that radiates between them, leaving you unable to suppress the smile that spreads across your face.

“I’m genuinely happy. For both of us,” you declare, the overflow of love within you akin to a flurry of delicate butterflies taking flight in your chest. Just as the moment envelops you in its warmth, the door swings open, and Jimin emerges, joining you and Yoongi.

“And I can’t wait to marry the love of my life,” you proclaim, your voice brimming with anticipation and affection as you reach for Jimin’s hand, intertwining your fingers with his as he settles beside you. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a blaze of love that courses between you, enveloping you both in a cocoon of intimacy and security. In this moment, with him by your side, you feel as though time could stand still, and you wouldn’t mind one bit.

→ Requested series taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-in-the-moon, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267

→ Permanent taglist: @nora12379, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @fancypeacepersona, @ktownshizzle, @pjmxxjm, @ajoonniice, @kookiewithluv, @mikrokookiex, @rapmonjoon94, @parkitrighthere,

→ Author’s endnote: Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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