#taking the time to appreciate the scenery and each other

[iguessitsjustme]

[ahundredtimesover]

Hold Me Closer | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. brother Jimin)

Genre/Tags: brother’s best friends au; slight angst, fluff, smut

Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption; kitchen emergency; eldest child feels, adulting; explicit sexual content (making out, oral m & f receiving, unprotected sex but be safe please!); Seven JK (18+)

Word count: 19.2k

Read Part 1: Hold Me Close

Summary: When you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up... Not if your brother can help it, though.

Listen to ��: Hands Down by Dashboard Confessional

Playlist 🎶: High School Playlist

A/N 1: I know I said I’d be on a break but I reread Hold Me Close and found comfort in this Jungkook 🥹 so I went ahead and wrote this little piece! Whipped and comforting boyfriend JK is what I needed so I hope you enjoy this 💕

Six - the number of work calls you’ve already taken in the last hour, with each one of them lasting one whole song. Jungkook calculates that you’ve spent half of the entire drive since leaving Seoul talking with your boss about some report that he somehow can’t complete without you, which sucks because Jungkook was really looking forward to this road trip with you and his best friend.

You groan after you hang up and the clackity clack of the keyboard continues. He was hoping to hold your hand while he drove and maybe sing with you some of your favorite songs that he put on but it doesn’t seem like those will happen anytime soon. You’re immersed in your work but he guesses you have to be; the sooner this ends, the sooner your focus will be on him and this present moment.

He finds the positive side of it at least. He gets to listen to you explain things - why the numbers are what they are, what targets you reached, and what risks you managed. It’s quite silly but it’s kind of a turn on, hearing you talk about something you know like the back of your hand, pretty much proving to your crap of a boss how good you are at your job and why you’re an asset to the company. You know your shit, and you have a classy way of making sure they know that you do. 

Six calls, and Jungkook already knows half of your project report. And perhaps he’ll know more, as the seventh one comes.

You let it ring for one, two, three times, as you hold your phone in one hand while you continue to type away with the other. 

“I swear to god, ___. If you don’t pick that up, I’m  gonna throw your phone out of this car,” Jimin, who’s comfortably seated in the backseat, growls. 

The dramatics is understandable because one, it’s Jimin and two, the constant ringing is a little bit much.

“___, I’m not fucking kiddi—”

“Hello, sir,” you finally answer, then proceed to discuss this month’s analytics and projections for the succeeding quarter.

Jungkook predicts it’s gonna take you another whole song to finish, so he instead focuses on the road and appreciates the clear skies and familiar scenery of the drive to Busan. His thoughts go to how these next several days are gonna go. There’s visiting your favorite spots growing up, going to a resort, staying in to eat and play video games, and of course, cuddling with you in your room, as you and Jimin will have your parents’ house to yourselves once they leave for their anniversary trip in two days.

His musings are disrupted though, when he looks at the rear view mirror and sees Jimin’s annoyed face blocking his view. Jungkook can’t help but laugh, especially when he hears his best friend grumbling complaints just behind him.

“Leave her be, she’ll be done soon,” Jungkook dismisses him. “They sound like important stuff.”

“She’s talking so loudly!” Jimin groans. “I just want to reminisce and sing along to our teenage emo music, Kook.”

Jungkook turns the music off. 

“There, I paused it. You can sing along once she’s done speaking on the phone,” he says.

Jimin pouts in response. “You always take her side. You weren’t like this when we were kids.”

“Well, if it means anything, I always took her side. I just never told you,” Jungkook laughs.

“Traitor.”

“I’m literally your most loyal friend.”

It’s a statement that Jimin can’t counter. Jungkook is his most loyal friend. And the most supportive. And the most dependable. And definitely the one who’s never left his side. 

When Jimin casually told their group that he likes girls and boys, Jungkook was the only one who didn’t need time to “warm up to the idea.” Jungkook was also the only one who never disappeared whenever he had a girlfriend. He was also the one who never missed a single one of Jimin’s dance showcases in college and professional shows. 

And of course, Jungkook was the one friend who took up his offer to drink that Friday afternoon, resulting in that infamous gutter incident - as you like to call it - and his subsequent unemployment and homelessness. While you, his beloved sister, were there to pick up the pieces, so was Jungkook, the way he promised he would after they became friends at 10 years old. 

Those months when Jimin was heartbroken and unsure of what he was going to do with his life, his best friend was there to make sure that he wasn’t going to lose his drive and love for dancing. His best friend is also the one constantly cheering him up about this long-distance relationship that he decided to have with Taehyung while others continue to be a skeptic.

Jungkook is that friend, and Jimin supposes he can forgive the other man every time he sides with you.

Jimin is about to complain again when you put the phone down and make one of your restrained cries. He pities you, but it doesn’t change the fact that he wishes you wouldn’t be doing your work stuff while you’re on a trip of what’s supposed to be a mini-break.

“I don’t get why you don’t pick up after the first ring,” he huffs. 

“It’s so Mr. Soo knows that I’m not easily available,” you say. 

“But you are. You answer it anyway,” Jimin rolls his eyes.

“Exactly, I’m gonna answer it anyway. Might as well make him wait for it because he needs me,” you point out. “It’s bad enough that he’s calling while I’m taking the leave he approved, so I’m just pissing him off. He doesn’t know I changed the prompt to leave me a voice message to an annoying song so he’ll have to sit through it to get to me. I already know it’s getting on his nerves.”

“Ooh, petty. I like that,” Jimin hums. 

“I know. I got that from you,” you proudly smile.

“But why are you even working?” He whines, your brother’s tone more of pity than annoyance. “It totally defeats the purpose of a leave. And you shouldn’t be indulging him!”

“Well, Mr. Soo approved this leave thinking that Chul would help him craft this report, which is based on the project that I proposed, only to realize that he doesn’t know shit about it because I wrote everything, and he just took the credit,” you explain. “I don’t want to be doing this, too, but I also just took the chance to show who’s driving the wheel, and it’s definitely me. Plus, I worked hard for that project. Working on the report at least gives me a chance to give myself credit for it.”

“Hmm, I guess you’re right,” Jimin concedes. “Your voice is just so loud.”

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to match his tone,” you say. “But he’ll be in a meeting for the next hour or so and he probably won’t need me again until then. You can turn the music back on.”

“Ugh, thank god,” Jimin groans again. “I missed my favorite song.”

He leans forward and squeezes himself in the small space between you and Jungkook. The proximity causes Jimin to smack his elbow on your face, which you know is intended, considering how much of a brat he is. So you do what you always do - flick the back of his head. 

He yells but gets over it once he manages to press the rewind button and plays the song he’s been wanting to hear. You haven’t been paying attention throughout the drive and hadn’t even known what they were listening to, but once the music comes on, a wave of nostalgia hits you.

You take the CD case you see in the compartment and scan the song list.

“Dashboard Confessional?” You read out. “Mayday Parade? Something Corporate?”

You go through 2 other CDs and look at both men questioningly. 

“These are literally plucked out of my high school playlist that I illegally downloaded,” you state, given that music streaming sites weren’t a thing over a decade ago. “Why do you have them in CDs? And did you even know these songs back then?”

“Yes, because we listened to your playlist when you weren’t around,” Jimin confesses, earning him a flick on the arm. 

“You went through my computer? You were in my room?!” You yell.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Jimin rolls his eyes. “It was a boring room, there was nothing to see. We just wanted your music because they were cool, but I’d never admit it.”

“I’m sure,” you shake your head. “But it was my ex, remember? He was a new kid from the US and he got me into these emo rock bands and I thought they were cool, too. He downloaded them illegally for me and I just jammed to those songs all the time even after we broke up.”

“We know. Jungkook and I could hear it from my bedroom,” Jimin says, “which is why we used to sneak in and listen when you weren’t around.”

“Is that why you put them in a mixtape? So you could listen to them whenever you wanted?” You ask, turning to Jungkook because between the both of them, he’s definitely the one who’d know how to do this.

“Yeah, Kook. Why did you make these mixtapes when neither of us had a portable CD player… but my sister did?” Jimin presses, cocked eyebrow and smug face on display.

You’re looking at him now, and it’s a curious look that Jungkook can’t resist.

“I just thought to put your most played ones in CDs,” he shyly admits, “and uh, planned on giving them to you before you left for college. But I chickened out so I just left them in a box in my room that I brought to Seoul. I’d forgotten all about it until Jimin raided my studio and found them.”

“You… you made me mixtapes? When you were 15?” You ask.

“___, I think I’ve established enough that I had a huge crush on you when I was a teenager,” he turns to you and laughs. 

It’s a little embarrassing even if he’s already dating you. It still feels surreal sometimes, as he thinks of his growing up years and how he always looked forward to sleeping over at Jimin’s place and then catching glimpses of you. There were the times when you’d watch movies with them in the living room, and then he’d help you clean up in the kitchen so he could spend more time with you.

That was over 10 years ago and so much has changed, but the admiration he felt for you never dwindled. There was always that image of you looking happy. He kept that version of you in his mind, even when you had your boyfriends. He just wanted to remember your smile, and now he gets to be the reason for it, like now.

“It’s just… it’s very sweet and thoughtful,” you say softly. 

“I… Well… I took interest in the things you liked. I guess that happens when you like someone.”

“Told you he’s a romantic,” Jimin nudges you. 

Between the fairy tattoo he designed and did on your shoulder, the dinner and picnic dates he takes you to despite both your busy schedules, and the way he holds you so close to him whenever and wherever he can, you can definitely say that Jungkook is a romantic.

It’s only been three months but it feels as if you’ve been dating him for longer, given the overflow of affection he’s been giving you. It’s in the way he always holds your hand and kisses you so passionately. It’s in his encouraging words and the way he spoils you with the littlest things. 

It’s refreshing to be with him. He has boyish charms that have become even sexier with his slightly long hair and the lip ring that he recently got. And whatever he’s wearing, there’s just something so comfortably sexy about him that’s both warm and exciting, and you often find yourself swarmed in butterflies whenever he talks about you.

It’s only been three months but it’s a relationship you’re still slowly being open about. Your friends were definitely surprised. Hoseok fell off the couch with all his body movements; Jin spat out his drink; Yoongi gasped, then followed it up with a teasing smirk; So-Hee and Na-eun gushed over how Jungkook treats you, and took the chance to say how he’s gotten more handsome over the years. 

You asked them if it was that shocking for you to be dating someone younger - and your brother’s best friend at that - and while they said it was a bit unexpected, what really got them was how different Jungkook is from your exes. He’s not some corporate man with ambitions, they pointed out. His life is less structured, too, given his freelancing career and gig at the tattoo parlor. He’s definitely a lot more laid-back and more casual than they’re used to. 

They were short of remarking that Jungkook’s lifestyle isn’t as stable and secure as what you normally go for, and they wouldn’t be wrong. It’s a thought you’ve had before, and something even he brought up because he didn’t want you thinking that he can’t keep up with you. But you’d been the one to point out to your friends that stability can come in different forms. With how Jungkook has been so dependable and assuring, that’s given you more security than you ever thought. 

But it’s not something that’s easy to explain. Maybe your friends could understand. They’ve made careers in different industries, after all, with short term jobs forming part of their resume. But your parents are of a different generation and mindset. Stability for them means one thing, and they raised you to want the same thing in the same way. 

Which is why it’s already been three months, and you still haven’t told them about you and Jungkook. 

“I started young,” he laughs, pulling you out of your thoughts as he takes your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours. “I used to just choose my moments of romance but with you, I’m romantic all the time.”

“Really? Does being a flirt count as being romantic?” You cock an eyebrow.

Because that’s what he is. He likes to tease and call you out when he affects you. He likes to charm and then edge you until you’re pleading for him to do more. 

“Definitely! I mean, I’m out here living my teenage dream, you know?” He winks at you. “Not just anyone gets to say that they’re dating the person they had a crush on when they were 13.”

“Oh god, here we go again,” Jimin groans, earning him a laugh from you and Jungkook.

But even if your brother fake-gags at your not-so private displays of affection, you know deep down that he’s happy for you and his best friend. The two most important people in his life found comfort in each other, and he gets to witness and bask in that. 

He also gets to brag that it all happened because of him. 

You spend the next hour jamming to all your favorite emo rock songs because Jungkook wasn’t kidding - he really did include all of the ones you had on repeat from your playlist. It takes you back to over 10 years ago of playing the music so loud while you’re in your pajamas, jumping on your bed and singing your lungs out. They don’t really remind you of your ex-boyfriend. That was a short-lived relationship that only really had you appreciating the songs he shared and not much more. 

Your boss doesn’t reach out to you until a half hour later. He’s taken to sending you messages instead, and when he does, you’re back to typing away on your laptop, to the displeasure of both men. 

They don’t call you out this time and instead leave you be. Until, of course, it hinders you from enjoying yourself.

The car has stopped but you’re still on your laptop, double checking figures. Jimin has stepped out after telling you that he’ll throw your laptop in the ocean if you don’t stop, but Jungkook stays with you inside the car. He bops his head and hums to the music that neither of you could barely hear. He picks on his fingers and yelps at the hangnail he pulls out. He opens the window and shoos away a bug, then hangs out his head to feel the late morning sun.

“Kook, you can go out if you’re bored,” you say, your eyes still glued to your screen. “You don’t have to stay with me here.”

“But I want to,” he responds. “I’m not leaving until you do, not when you said we’re spending the week free from work and stress.”

“I just need to get this done,” you sigh, rechecking your stats for the third time and then aligning the table. “I’ll be finished soon.”

“You said that 15 minutes ago,” he points out, not wanting to sound like he’s complaining, although he might as well be. 

“It’s just—”

“You’ve done your part, babe. You’ve encoded the figures and cross-checked the targets and objectives. Writing the rest of that report and formatting it isn’t your job anymore,” Jungkook says. “You weren’t even supposed to do those. You’re not on the clock. You’re on leave, and you deserve this break.”

“I hate that I have to work, too, but it’s not something I just can’t do, not when my boss is calling and expecting me to do all this,” you groan. 

You see his eyebrows furrow and you get defensive. 

“You know what, nevermind. You work solo, you answer to no one, you don’t have to prove yourself to corporate assholes. You won’t get it.”

You sigh once more and return to reviewing the conclusion, but the sudden silence is unnerving. You glance at Jungkook and see the look on his face - it’s not sadness but disappointment, and it’s one you don’t see very often on him.

You’re about to apologize when he speaks, his voice soft and low, as if speaking is difficult for him.

“I work with so many clients on a daily basis, with more than half of them setting deadlines that they don’t even follow and demanding so many things so yes, I get it,” he says. “But I put my foot down when I need to, because I learned a long time ago that I shouldn’t let people walk all over me. I know you’re up against a lot of things and you may feel like your hands are tied but they aren’t. A break won’t hurt you. And you know you deserve it. We deserve your attention, too.”

Your heart cracks at his words. Even more at the way he looks, as you see that all he wants is to spend time with you. He’s been busy, too. He’s spent the last few nights at his studio, buried deep in his projects because he said he wanted to focus on you this week. And you know that he’ll keep his word like he always does. Jungkook is dedicated to his work but he focuses on you when he says he will. You’re the one not loyal to what you say.

“Kook, I’m—”

“Just do what you have to do,” he interjects, his eyes downcast now. “I’ll be outside with Jimin. Come out when you’re done. You like it here, so don’t worry. We won’t leave until you’ve come down.”

Jungkook exits the car before you can say anything. You watch him walk down the stony path towards the ocean.

You hadn’t even realized you’re here. 

You’re at Cheongsapo, with the pebble beach just meters away being one you all went to as kids. Jungkook’s older brother used to drive you here during summer, and you all enjoyed the calmness of the place. You used to bet on who would treat ice cream by playing rounds of stone skipping, with Jimin winning every single time. You remember how you and Jungkook taught each other how to do it, and then tag-teamed against your brother so he could finally treat you both that one time. 

Whenever you’d visit Busan during your college breaks, you’d always come down here with your friends, with Jungkook and Jimin in tow. You’d visit at sunset and hold out your sparklers, then navigate the terrain at night and laugh about who tripped and slipped on the way back. 

Jungkook’s right. You like this place. It holds so many memories of your youth, and you find yourself constantly reminiscing, as you try to recall his place in your life back then. 

You mentally smack yourself. He didn’t deserve your dismissal. He didn’t deserve the way you spoke to him. He’s been trying to help, especially with how busy you’ve been these past several weeks. You were supposed to work from home while you housesat your parents’ house but Jimin convinced you to take your untouched leaves when Jungkook decided to come, and then they both called it a mini-break.

And maybe you need it, considering that all this preoccupation with work has caused you to snap at your boyfriend when all he wanted to do was ease your mind.

So you get out of the car and head to him. 

There’s a small forest to pass through and a steep staircase to maneuver, but you manage. You look out to see Jimin already throwing stones and Jungkook standing by, reacting to every gliding pebble on the water. You spare a few seconds to admire him from the back, with his plain white shirt and light gray lounge pants, accentuating a figure that has you weak in the knees. His hands are in his pockets and his slightly long locks are in a half-bun, and he looks every bit of comfort in this place that holds so much of your years growing up.

You walk to where he is and wrap your arms around him from behind. He stills but he doesn’t say anything. You savor his natural scent and the way the tips of his hair tickle your face. You bask in the taut figure that somehow softens under your touch. Once you feel him relax a little, you tilt your head and whisper in his ear. 

“I’m sorry for snapping at you. You didn’t deserve that.”

He remains quiet and unmoving. All you can hear are the sounds of the waves and Jimin’s cheering from some meters away.

“I just got caught up with work but I’m done with it. It wasn’t right of me to neglect you when I promised I was gonna take a break and spend time with you,” you continue.

Your voice is low and Jungkook could hear your pout. Just a little bit more and he’ll give in.

“You look so hot today and I just want to—”

“Yah!” He whines, finally returning your affection and caressing your arms that are now wrapped around him tightly. “Don’t tease me.”

“Hmm, that caught your attention, huh?” You giggle, lightly kissing his neck.

He shivers at the act, and he laughs at himself for how whipped he is for you, giving in so quickly.

“You know it would,” he huffs, turning around to face you now.

You still have that pout and he just wants to kiss it off you.

“How was walking down the steep staircase?” He asks, knowing that was your only non-favorite thing about this place. 

“I tripped on a step but I’m fine,” you proudly smile now. 

“You should’ve called me,” he frowns now. 

“But you were upset with me!”

“So? Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t help you down the stairs and risk you tripping. You know how those steps are. And the pebbles can sometimes be slippery. You can trip here, too, and— what?”

“Nothing. You’re sexy when you’re worried about me,” you say nonchalantly.

“Ugh, come here,” he groans, pulling you in a hug, one that you fall into immediately. “I’ll always worry about you. And I’ll always help you, even if I’m upset.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I’m sorry again. But I’ve laid off the report now. I told Mr. Soo I shall not be disturbed anymore for the rest of my leave.”

“Good,” Jungkook hums, pulling away to face you now. “Because I really want to know what you wanted to do.”

“Ah, many things, Jeon Jungkook,” you smirk. “But I’ll maybe settle for this first.”

You lean in and kiss him - deep enough to have him moan against your lips, and you suddenly can’t wait until you can do more.

“Oh, my eyes!” Jimin squeals, prompting you to look at him with his arm covering his face.

Jungkook only laughs but you scowl at your brother.

“You’re so dramatic,” you roll your eyes. “You’ve seen worse.”

“And I’ve erased that image of my sister and my best friend swallowing each other’s faces from my mind. Please don’t remind me again,” he groans. “But anyway, are you tolerable again?”

“Yes,” you frown. “I think,” you mutter, turning to Jungkook.

“You’re alright,” he teases, before he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close. “Now Jimin here wants to reassert his dominance as the stone-skipping king. You game for a match?”

“Do I have a choice?” You cock your eyebrow.

“No. So okay, same rules,” your brother announces. “Loser treats everyone to coffee and pastry. We all know it won’t be me.”

“Brat,” you say under your breath. 

But he’s not wrong. He dominates and Jungkook ends up losing. The wink he makes tells you he let you win. And though you like to play fair, you won’t lie and say his teasing smirk definitely turned you on.

You spend the rest of your morning enjoying iced coffee while overlooking the beach, then you head to your favorite seafood restaurant for lunch. You go to your usual market for ingredients for the week, including tonight’s dinner that your mother will be preparing. She wanted to cook for all of you before they flew out, she said, and that got you excited. 

It’s refreshing to walk through the streets and spots of your childhood and reminisce with your brother and boyfriend. The memories take on different forms this time, as Jungkook tells you things from his perspective. 

You remember that one time you scolded them for sneaking out on a school night and then picking them up at an alley with Jin driving you. Jungkook says he liked how caring and understanding you were then; you said you’d cover for them after flicking their foreheads. 

There’s that summer when you got your friends to buy from Jimin and Jungkook’s ice pop stand so they could buy these skateboards that neither of your parents wanted to get for them. Jungkook recalls how you complimented his recipe and told everyone he made them so that they’d praise him, too. 

There’s that winter when, after your brother’s begging, you had him and Jungkook join you and your friends’ bonfire night at one of your secret beach spots. Jungkook points out that you always made sure that as the youngest ones there, they were warm and well-fed. 

And then there were their sleepovers when you’d join them play video games and watch horror movies in the living room. Jungkook gushes at how pretty you looked and how you’d always prepare them popcorn and drinks. He outs you as the one who puts the blanket over him and Jimin when they fall asleep on the couch. 

“I tend to forget a lot of things but I remember when they’re about you,” he mumbles as he starts the drive to your house. “It’s just always stuck with me. Please don’t be weirded out.”

You giggle but assure him that you aren’t. You understand him - there are things and people and moments that naturally stick with you, and they’re the ones you hold dear, too. 

He was a kid with a crush and his attention was often on you, and you suppose that given how you’d felt comfortable around him then, it was also maybe natural that you’d feel the same way now that you’re both older. It just so happened that he ended up looking as attractive as he did, and that’s just an added bonus. 

Jungkook drops you and Jimin home before he drives three blocks away to his parents’ house. He’ll greet them first before heading to your place, he says, excited for your mom’s cooking that he always enjoyed. 

It’s been some time since you last saw them. They don’t always drive out to Seoul, only doing so to watch Jimin’s shows, and you haven’t had time to go home, either. Plus, you had an injured brother to take care of, and he’s also really the topic of every conversation you’ve had with them these past months. 

And there are no bad feelings there. He’s had injuries and illnesses that had them worried, and you’re pretty much as unproblematic and predictable as any eldest child could get. You think you’re that monotonous or unexciting, too, and you suppose that just meant they didn’t feel the need to check on you as much as they did with Jimin.

But you express your longing once they offer you their hugs. You say how you miss your mom’s cooking and your dad’s baking, which is code for saying that you’ve missed them, too. 

You get your stuff to your room and sigh in relief at the comfort it still gives you. Not much has changed between your double bed, your desk, your beanbag, and the large cork board of photos on your wall. You pin the Polaroids from earlier, deciding to keep the ones of you and Jungkook for your place back in Seoul. 

You huff this time, unsure how you’ll open the discussion of you dating your younger brother’s best friend to your parents. They’ve known him since he was a kid; they watched him get into all kinds of trouble with their son, and were there for his milestones, too. 

Jungkook was always Jimin’s partner-in-crime; they were two peas in a pod who went through everything together. Now it’s you and him and you don’t really know how they’ll take it. 

But you brush it off for now and think it’s a conversation for later, or maybe when they come back from their trip. You intended on telling them in person, which is why they’re still in the dark. It’s just a matter of how you’ll say it.

You head downstairs and take in the scent of seafood soft tofu stew. The two boys are already at the kitchen counter, munching on the rolled omelet that they shouldn’t even be having yet. But your mom lets them, as Jimin talks about his new agency and shows videos of him doing some choreographies.

You stand next to Jungkook, who sneakily feeds you. You don’t know why you get flustered at the act, even more when he whispers in your ear. 

“So, I finally get to see your room with your permission,” he cheekily smiles. “I promised Jimin a few rounds of Overwatch before going to you.”

You merely laugh and tell him that your dad’s asking him something.

“So, Jungkook. How has work been? Jimin tells us you’ve been getting more projects recently,” your old man asks. 

“Ah, yes, uncle,” he responds. “I’m getting more clients and exposure now. It took a while but it’s all going well.”

“That’s good. Although I always wondered why you never thought of joining a firm. Doesn’t that mean a more consistent client base? And better for you financially, too.”

“Well, I get to choose my clients and my projects as a freelancer,” Jungkook explains. “I control my time. And it allows me to take appointments at the tattoo parlor.”

���Oh, right, your hobby,” your dad nods. “I guess having multiple sources of income is the new trend these days.”

Jungkook just hums in agreement, already used to your dad’s frame of thought when it comes to a career. So are you, because it’s often the first thing he picks up on with your boyfriends. Each of your partners just happened to be working in corporate so there was never this line of questioning followed by an awkward silence. 

But Jungkook is just your brother’s best friend, as far as they know. You wonder how they’d react once you finally tell them the truth.

You don’t completely fault your dad, though. It’s less about judgment and more about practicality. He and your mom came from the generation that believed survival and security mattered more than passion. They always thought the latter could come later on in life, which is why they opened their own cafe not long ago, at a time when they were already pretty secure. You suppose it’s his way of looking out for you, which is why he’s always been concerned about your partner’s occupation.

The conversation changes, as the focus now turns to your parents and what they’ve been up to. You assist your mom in the kitchen while the men hang around, helping when they’re called upon. Jungkook stands near you, asking if you need him and attempting to feed you with a dumpling this time, but you manage to feed yourself and he merely looks at you in understanding.

Dinner is finally ready and you all head to the dining table. You take the seat next to your mom, across from Jungkook, and he looks at you curiously but you offer him an apologetic smile. You only told him that you’ll tell your parents about your relationship in person, which you planned on doing. 

That is, until your parents bring up your friends.

“Sweetie, Jin’s son is so adorable,” your mom chirps. “I saw the pictures on Facebook and the little one took after his father so much. I can imagine how happy he and his wife are.”

The topic of your dear friend and his family injects energy into you. You say how Jin’s been bragging about his mini-me but that the nursery you helped put together looks so beautiful. You were all there when his wife gave birth a few weeks ago and though you’re still unsure about having kids, you won’t deny how much it warmed your heart when Seo-yoon’s tiny fingers wrapped around your thumb. It’s not something you say though, as your mom eventually mentions Na-eun and her fiancé. 

“I read that he’s been promoted as Director of their company,” she says. 

Your dad pipes in that So-Hee’s new boyfriend is apparently the son of one of his former colleagues, and you’re quite frankly over the conversations about your friends’ partners. The insinuations aren’t lost on you.

“How do you even know these things?” You groan.

“Facebook,” your mom replies. “Of course I’m friends with all your friends. And it’s nice to know how well they’re doing since we don’t get to see them much anymore. You’ve reached that age of settling down, after all.”

“I guess,” you hum, no longer interested in the conversation. Jimin’s roll of his eyes tells you he feels the same. “Lots of good things are happening for them.”

You don’t mean to sound bitter and you aren’t. You adore your friends and genuinely love that things are looking out for them. You’re not the same person from months ago who felt lost and falling behind amongst them. Sure, things could be better career-wise, but you haven’t felt this much security in yourself and your relationship until Jungkook. Explaining why is a different thing altogether.

“What about you?” Your dad asks. “I know we’ve been calling every week to ask about your brother but we haven’t been checking in on you. I’m sorry, dear,” he continues, his eyes softening. “Is there anything new in your life?”

If the earlier conversations hadn’t happened, perhaps you’d willingly hint on the newest thing in your life, which is the relationship you have with the man currently looking at you with his doe-eyes in anticipation. 

But they did, and you know mentioning your friends’ partners was their way of subtly pressuring you about being with someone of similar stature. And you’re not really in the mood for that right now. 

So you end up doing the stupidest thing you possibly could, and that’s to lie. 

“Not really,” you say, hating the prolonged silence that follows. 

And as you look at Jungkook across from you, you see his face fall, and you hate even more that it’s because of you. 

Your lack of a follow-up prompts your parents to move on. They know that when you’re in the mood to talk, you will and when you’re quite passive, it means you aren’t. 

Your mom turns to Jungkook instead and asks him what else he’s up to other than his various jobs and looking after Jimin. He looks at you before his gaze shifts towards them.

“Not much else, auntie,” he replies. 

The crack of your heart knows you completely messed up, because if it stings like this, then you know it hurt him even more.

“Oh, is there no one special in your life?” She asks, as she often does. Given that she treats Jungkook as part of the family, she’s lost all filter when it comes to him, too. “I recently met with my friend and her daughter. She’s such a lovely young woman, Kook, she’s brilliant and oh so charming. She’s in Busan for the week, too. Do you want to—”

“Is it time for dessert?” Jimin butts in, not wanting this conversation to continue. 

He knows Jungkook wouldn’t know how to turn your mother down, and if he even slightly entertains the idea to appease her, you’d be the one upset, even if you technically put this upon yourself. Jimin already sees you a bit uncomfortable, and if there’s anything he can do to not make this worse for you and his best friend, it’s to be a brat. 

“Oh, yes. Your father made an apple pie and some ice cream,” she says. “Let me—”

“I’ll get it,” you offer, standing up from your seat now.

You don’t want to know what your mom’s other propositions would be. You’re sure she’ll find some person’s son to match you with, given that she’s done that a few times after your breakup with Namjoon. You’re also not ready for Jungkook to agree with her about meeting someone, even if you know he won’t mean it.

Which is really stupid because if you’d just told them the truth, then you’ll be having a completely different conversation, although you’re unsure if you’re ready for that one, too. But at least Jungkook wouldn’t look as upset as he does right now, as he’s resorted to picking on his food instead of finishing it, which tells you that he’s lost his appetite and that’s never a good thing. 

You go to the kitchen to slice the pie and scoop the ice cream. You do it so slowly to lengthen the time before you’re back there, only because you don’t want to know what else they’re talking about. 

You’re in the middle of cursing yourself when you feel the sting of a tiny pinch on your arm, and you yelp in pain and smack your brother’s chest in reflex.

“Ow!” You yell, frowning at the man before you and ignoring your mother’s order to “behave,” even if they’re used to you two quarreling. 

“You deserve that,” Jimin scowls at you. “Because what the fuck was that?!”

“I know,” you sigh, glancing at Jungkook who’s trying his best to be interested in what your parents are saying. “I… froze. You know what they wanted to hear, Chim. All those things about my friends’ boyfriends and what they do? I just didn’t want them to compare them to what Jungkook does if I tell them.”

“Why, what’s wrong with what he does?” Your brother raises an eyebrow.

“Nothing. It’s just… you know how focused they are on career stability and shit like that,” you try to explain. “You heard what dad was telling him earlier. I just didn’t want Jungkook to hear any underhanded comments from them and then feel bad about it.”

“And you think denying that you’re dating is any better?” He chides. “That’s literally worse!”

“I—”

“Jungkook knows how our parents are. And after you got together, he already anticipated that they’d question how he’ll be able to sustain your life together once you told them about your relationship,” Jimin explains. “He was ready for it. I doubt he anticipated this…”

You stand there, the crack in your heart getting deeper and bigger as the seconds pass. You hadn’t realized that Jungkook was already confiding in Jimin about any concerns he’d have about facing your parents. You suppose he would, given that you said you’d tell them when you saw them the one time that Jungkook asked if they knew, and you didn’t raise it again after. Living in your bubble together seemed more important, and you’d forgotten to mentally prepare yourself for this conversation.

“Chim, I fucked up,” you pout. 

If it were about anything else, Jimin would push it. It’s how you always were, and you’ve reached that point  in your relationship where you could call each other out and know it comes from a good place. But he doesn’t want to do this today, not when you’re already sad and guilty and he doesn’t want you to feel worse. He doesn’t want to take sides, even if he’ll admit that you were in the wrong, but he doesn’t want to antagonize you either.

“Hey,” he nudges your arm. “It’s not the end of the world. You’re both gonna figure it out. I don’t know how hard he’ll take this but he’s a really soft-hearted person, so just… keep that in mind, okay?”

You nod, wanting to believe that you’ll be able to fix it. 

“And don’t hate yourself too much,” your brother adds. “He’s really, really into you. I just know he won’t be able to resist you.”

You nod again but you think that just makes it worse. You doubt he expected that out of all the people to disappoint him, it would be you. Yet here you are. 

You and Jimin return to the table with the plated desserts. You hand one to Jungkook but he doesn’t acknowledge you. He doesn’t meet your eyes either when it’s all you try to do. He peacefully eats his apple pie while you feign interest at your parents talking about their recent weekend at a spa. 

When everyone’s done, he helps Jimin clean up. It’s how you know that Jungkook’s considered part of the family, as your parents don’t stop him from doing so, unlike when it comes to other guests or your friends. 

You watch helplessly as he washes the dishes, turning down your offer to help. You take the rest of the plates and walk towards him instead, standing close so you could place them in the sink. He just moves his arms to give you space then returns to his task, not sparing you a glance. 

You stay with your parents in the dining area to talk about their trip. They leave you with important documents and give you instructions should anything bad happen to them while they’re away, as they always do whenever they go on a trip. Everything is your responsibility as the eldest, they remind you. 

They finally go to their room to continue packing and you sit on the corner of the couch where Jimin and Jungkook have just finished watching some video of a guy reacting to other videos. You constantly glance at your boyfriend but he seems to be intent on not giving you attention because he’s not like this - he always wants to be close to you, needing his hand to be touching your arm or your thigh or even your hair, and his pretty eyes locked on you. But not tonight.

You recall how months ago, you avoided him because of what you started to feel. And perhaps this is how he felt then - helpless, unsure, and desperate for you to be next to him again. 

You find the tiniest bit of courage and call out his name, hoping he’d at least turn to you this time. 

“Kook, I’m—”

“Hey, we should probably play now so we finish early,” Jungkook nudges Jimin’s knee. “It’s been a long day; I don’t really want to stay up late.”

Your brother looks at you in apology as he responds to the man on his left in agreement. They both head up, leaving you rooted in your seat, wishing that Jungkook would turn around to tell you that he doesn’t mean creating this distance, but he doesn’t. 

And you wouldn’t blame him. You’d stay away from you, too.

You end up watching Aliens on your own, crouched on your corner of the couch with the large blanket over you. You give up after an hour, once the movie starts getting intense and scary though. There’s no Jungkook to hold you during the jumpscares, or to tease you about your screaming, or to assure you that he’ll protect you from all types of monsters. 

There’s no Jungkook next to you but you want him there, and it’s another half hour later when you decide that you’re not going to bed without speaking to him. 

You hate sleeping sad and upset. You don’t like ending the day not being on good terms with him. There are so many things you want to tell him but more than anything, you just want to hold him close. He always said he liked that, because even during the times when there’s so much to say or feel, falling into each other’s arms is the easiest thing to do. It says enough. It shows enough. And you’ve both survived misunderstandings and stressful moments by holding each other, and then holding each other closer.

Walking up the stairs and towards Jimin’s room, the nerves kick in. Jungkook has been ignoring you the whole evening and you’re unsure if he’s willing to hear you out. 

But you try, as you knock on the door, your heart beating fast when it slowly opens. Your brother’s downcast eyes meet you and you don’t need to say anything else. 

He opens the door wider then turns to the man lying on a mattress on the floor.

“Kook, my sister’s looking for you.”

You glance at him, dressed in that black tank top that always made you breathless, but once again, he avoids your gaze. But he does stand up after a nudge on the foot from your brother and walks over to you.

“Can we, uh…” you gesture towards the room just across the hallway.

He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t shut you out, which is a good thing. You take it as your cue to start walking and you hear his footsteps right behind you. 

You let him in then close the door behind him. There’s so much you want to say, like you’re sorry and that you were stupid, that you didn’t mean to deny him but that you didn’t know how to tell your parents, or what you were even nervous about. You want to say that you just want to spend tonight wrapped up in his arms and apologizing in all the ways that you can.

But instead of uttering the words, your throat dries up. Seeing him standing there with that upset and disinterested look on his face breaks you a little. So you reach out, your hands pressing gently on his chest to try to feel him, to be close to him, hopefully to hold him and make your mistake go away. 

“Kook, I…” you tremble, trying so hard to find the words.

Jungkook looks back at you, your face nervous and unsure, unlike his that’s probably still painted with disappointment. 

He still doesn’t know what to make of your denial. He’s been trying to see things from your point of view all evening, but doing so only in his head because verbalizing them, especially to his best friend, makes it sting a bit more. Maybe Jimin can explain on your behalf but that would just confirm to Jungkook one of two things - that you don’t really intend on telling your parents about both of you for whatever reason he can’t comprehend, or you don’t think he measures up to their expectations and for that, you might just think he’s not good enough for you. 

He doesn’t think he’s ready for that, so he shuts Jimin down when he asks. They watched videos earlier to have something to laugh about but he was faking it. He suggested playing a game just so he wouldn’t respond to you calling him earlier but all they’ve done since going to the room is lie in silence. 

Jungkook doesn’t want to talk about it with his best friend. And he certainly doesn’t want to talk about it with you. He doesn’t want an explanation right now. It’s not what he wants to hear. 

And it seems as if it’s something you’re even struggling to give him, as you stand there quivering, your hands slowly trying to pull him closer to you. 

It’s what you usually do when you can’t find the words to express something - when you’re stressed and frustrated, when you want to patch things up after a small misunderstanding, when you want his comfort. And he always loved it when you did. He always willingly gave you that hug and that kiss and those whispers of “it’s okay” and “we’re okay” and “I’m just here.” 

But not tonight, not when there’s this unnamed thing that’s eating him inside, and not even you can fix it. 

“I don’t… I don’t really wanna do this right now,” he mutters, taking your hands to slowly slide them off him. 

The look of hurt in your eyes is one that’ll probably haunt him for a while, but he’ll learn to deal with that. It’s better than talking with you about something that you don’t even know how to express. 

This isn’t like him. It’s not like him to be upset at you like this, to not want to comfort you, to not want to be around you. This messes him up, too, and all he can do is step away and walk out.

He doesn’t really wanna be here, he thinks to himself as he enters the room just across, to the surprise of Jimin who half expected both of you to have made up. Jungkook would go home if he only brought his keys and it wasn’t too late to ask his parents to open the door for him.

But his best friend’s floor mattress will do for now. And so Jungkook puts on his earpods and plays whatever music is loud enough to shut out the thought of you until he falls asleep. 

In the other room, you lay in your bed in complete silence. You don’t want to cry, only because he’s not there to wipe your tears away. And you don’t ever want to know what that’s like, so you don’t. You keep the tears at bay and force yourself to drift away. 

You jerk awake the next morning to your mother knocking on your door. You promised to do errands with her today, so you get off the bed and yell out that you’ll just fix up.

“No rush, dear. I’m still having breakfast with your father. You can join us when you’re ready.”

You head down and eat the pastries that they brought from the cafe. You don’t have much appetite and these will suffice, but your mind goes to Jungkook and how he was craving kimchi fried rice and spam yesterday. 

So that’s what you make for him and Jimin. You even prepare iced coffee the way they like it. You’re about to set the dish aside for them to heat up when you hear rushed footsteps down the stairs and you know they’ve woken up.

“Wahhh, it smells so good,” Jimin exclaims as he walks over to the counter while his best friend sits on the table. “Did you make something, dad?”

“Oh, your sister cooked for you and Jungkook,” your father hums. “It’s making me hungry now.”

“There’s still some in here if you want,” you call out, with him responding that he’ll get some later.

You serve the dish in two bowls. You hand one to Jimin and then place the other in front of Jungkook without sparing him a glance. 

“Iced coffee is in the refrigerator,” you tell them. 

You hear Jimin’s little squeal before he gets them. “Where you off to?” He asks.

“I’m running errands with mom.”

“Make sure you two make it in time for dinner, okay?” Your father says.

“Of course. I can’t miss your steak, dad,” you give him a small smile. 

“Good. I prepared meat good enough for five Actually, six. I count Jungkook as two people,” he laughs. 

The thought of this comfort and familiarity hurts you because you’re the one who made Jungkook think otherwise. You see him smile at your father’s remark but you turn away when he looks your way. You know he’s still upset and you don’t want to force it if he’s not yet ready to speak with you. You also haven’t gotten over the way he pulled away from you last night, and so looking at him today is a little difficult.

“You’re still joining us at the party, right?” Jimin asks. 

Their friend, Hari, whom you know briefly dated Jungkook in high school, is celebrating her birthday tonight. Their group always looked to you as the cool sister so you’re always invited to whatever they’ve got going, and while the three of you talked about attending later, after what you did, you doubt Jungkook would want you to spoil his evening. You’re also not exactly in the partying mood for obvious reasons.

“I’ll pass, Chim,” you respond. “You guys should have a best friend night.”

You go back to your room to fix up before joining your mother to head out. 

Back in the dining room, Jimin nudges Jungkook’s knee.

“She’s still playing favorites,” he playfully rolls his eyes as he gestures to the generous amount of spam in his best friend’s bowl compared to his decent serving. 

Jungkook just hums, guilt forming that he didn’t even thank you for this because he really has been craving it. Before any of them could say anything more, your father speaks up.

“Your sister okay, son?”

“Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t she be?” Jimin nervously answers.

“She just doesn’t seem like herself, that’s all,” your old man replies.

“Maybe it’s work. It’s been tough lately,” your brother reasons. 

“But she’s more tired and frustrated when it comes to work but that’s not what she is. Maybe it’s a guy.”

At this, Jungkook chokes on his food, and he’s glad your father doesn’t react.

“What makes you think so?” Jimin asks, his eyes flitting to his best friend.

“Hmm, it just seems different,” your father insists. “Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking on my end. She hasn’t introduced anyone since Namjoon. And I wish she would, just so we know she’s moved on, you know? And that the breakup isn’t still hurting her.”

“She has, and it doesn’t affect her anymore,” Jimin confirms, certain of at least that bit.

“Then why hasn’t she introduced anyone yet?”

“Maybe it’s because you really liked Namjoon, and he seems to be your standard so ___ is just probably just taking her time.”

“Well it’s because he’s smart and stable and very self-assured and—”

“Also very much married. And a soon-to-be father,” Jimin interjects, already being protective of you. 

He wonders now if this is how your parents talk about him to you, and that you’ve always just protected him from all of it.

“Oh,” your father sighs. “It could’ve been her.”

“But it isn’t and that’s totally fine,” Jimin exclaims. “She’s young and she’s got time. And who knows, maybe that’s not the life she wants, or at least not yet? If you could accept my version of happiness, you should be able to accept hers, too. And what does ‘stable’ even mean?”

“Someone with ambition, with a direction,” your old man explains. “Someone who’s secure and financially capable of sustaining this good life that your mom and I gave you both.”

“Those are all the things she is, too, you know?” Jimin frowns. “And also, I love you, dad, but you’re old. By that I mean your thinking is old. It’s outdated. You think stability is about prestige and money and I get that but… that’s not everything. There are other things that matter to her and if you lessened the pressure a bit, you’d see that. She’s your daughter, don’t you want her to be happy? To be loved?”

“Of course I do,” your father sighs. 

“Well then don’t let your version of what a good partner is dictate her life,” Jimin advises. “She’s a grown up, she knows what she wants and how to get it. But she’s also your daughter who doesn’t want to worry or disappoint you. What if she’s found someone who makes her happy and treats her right but she’s nervous of what you’d think because of all these expectations you have of her?”

Jimin’s eyes flit to his best friend again who’s quietly munching on his food but is clearly taking in this exchange. While Jimin still thinks you were wrong to deny your relationship, he at least hopes that Jungkook could understand what was going through your mind and it was all this. 

“Well if she has then I’d want to meet him,” your father insists. 

“And maybe you will, once she stops feeling the pressure of what she’s supposed to be for you and who she’s supposed to date,” Jimin explains. 

“I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right, dad,” Jimin groans. “I lived with her for months and she just… she worries about a lot of things. It would be nice if she doesn’t worry about this. So please, stop with all the projections and underhanded remarks, okay? She sees right through you. Just let her live her life.”

A smile forms on your father’s face. It was never his intention to put all that pressure on you but he supposes you just accepted that it comes with the territory. But he realizes it shouldn’t be. His son’s right - he’s old. He and your mother worked hard so that you and your brother could have a life where you didn’t have to worry about anything, but he supposes the intention got muddled along the way. At least you and Jimin have each other.

“I know you and your sister don’t like to admit it but it’s really touching to see how similar you both are,” your father says.

“Excuse me, I’m cooler and funnier and definitely more talented,” Jimin pouts. 

“Maybe,” your old man laughs. “But she’s sat on that same chair, lecturing me and your mom about letting you live your life and now you’re doing the same. She’s your biggest advocate and your biggest protector. It’s just nice to see how you’re the same for her.”

Running errands with your mother has always been your responsibility, but it’s once you’ve hit your late-twenties mark that you’ve come to appreciate it. 

You learn a lot about the practical stuff like insurance and emergency funds and inheritance when you accompany her to the bank. You’re also reminded that sometimes you have to spend more to make things last when she drops off her clothes at the laundry service and picks up the bag and shoes she had professionally cleaned. You also remember the important things like buying flowers and leaving them on your grandparents’ graves. 

You’ve just left the shopping center after she bought your father an anniversary gift, and her excitement over the satchel and perfume she got him has you smiling. You wonder how differently she feels for him 30 years later, and if this life they have together is everything she imagined it to be.

“Was it hard at the beginning? Being married to dad?” You ask. 

“Of course, dear,” she answers. “Because it’s how marriages typically go. Your father and I were together for two years before we got married and it was a big change. You just… learn to consider another person, and you get used to someone always being around you.”

“It’s a good thing you can stand each other then,” you chuckle. 

“That’s true,” she laughs back. “You’d be surprised to know how many married couples can’t. But we just always managed. And we had to be on each other’s side, you know? It’s the reason why we’ve lasted as long as we have.”

She looks quite emotional as she says the words and it’s probably because of what they’ll be celebrating soon but she turns to you with a smile.

“Your father’s parents wanted me to become a housewife, a stay-at-home mom who just ran the household,” she continues. “But I wanted to work so I could help my parents, and your father stood by my decision. He saw how working gave him financial freedom and he wanted that for me, too. And we just… worked hard. We fought a lot at the start because we were building our careers and raising a family but we knew it would all be worth it, as long as we stood by each other.”

“Then I suppose that’s what’s important in a partner, isn’t it?” You say. “Being dependable, being supportive, not… not what kind of career they have.”

“Well, a stable career helps,” she points out. “I mean, it’s how your father and I got to afford sending you and your brother to good schools. It’s how we could afford trips as a family and how your father and I can be secure at this age without needing much help from our children.”

“But that’s also because you worked hard, plain and simple. And you and dad had each other and overcame whatever challenges you faced together. You can’t say the same for all married couples,” you push. 

“That’s true. I mean, it wasn’t like this during our parents’ time. I guess people had less options then. The world’s changed so much, hasn’t it?”

“It has,” you hum. “Not everyone cares much about their partner’s upward mobility and stuff like that. They want to savor the good life their parents gave them. And because they work hard, too, they just want someone to enjoy it with them. You know, like me.”

There’s a beat of silence as your mother processes your words. 

“Is that why it didn’t work out with Namjoon?” She asks, reminding you that you’d only given them a general reason as to why things ended.

“We spent too much time planning for our future that we kinda lost our way,” you explain. “I guess that’s when I realized that I wanted someone to enjoy the moments with, regardless of what they do for a living. And we’ll never know what life will throw our way and I need someone who’ll stand by me, the way I’ll stand by them. You know, cheesy things like that.”

You smile to yourself as you think about Jungkook and his shameless affection that he shows in so many ways. You enjoy the cheesiness but you’ll deny it first before admitting it. But then again, he probably knows already. He pays attention to you after all. 

“Well, I suppose that’s why we wanted to give you and your brother a good and secure life, so that you can enjoy it,” your mother hums.

“Exactly. You raised us well, mom. We’re not gonna throw our lives away, however we choose to live it, and with whom,” you assure her. 

She gives you a warm smile. She takes your hand at the stoplight and caresses it. Perhaps it’s the assurance you need, too.

You return home to your father preparing the meat for tonight’s dinner. There’s a platter of steak, vegetables, and sausages that he’s seasoning to grill, and you can imagine how happy this is gonna make Jungkook. He always liked it when your dad prepared dishes like this paired with your mom’s spicy chicken soup, and you wish you could enjoy it together. 

But you’re giving him space to feel what he feels and you’re doing the same, even if all you want to do is apologize. You haven’t had an issue quite like this, so things are a little unfamiliar to you. You tried to talk to him last night but he wasn’t ready, and you’re unsure when he will be. 

You head towards the counter and cut up the vegetables for the soup before slicing the fruits. You’re focused on your task, knowing how sharp the knives are, but it’s at the same time that your brother and Jungkook arrive. Seeing your boyfriend look as good as he does in that denim jacket-over tank top fit is so sinful; it’s a crime you’re not talking that it distracts you, and it’s what causes you to slice through your finger and yelp in pain.

“Did you hurt yourself, dear?” Your mom asks as she stirs the pot. 

“Yeah,” you say, placing your hand under running water.

You’re about to ask Jimin to get the First Aid kit from the drawer but Jungkook gets to it first, knowing where it is. 

He knows that your brother, who’s terrified of blood, won’t help you, and despite your situation, Jungkook can’t stand not helping. So he lathers an antiseptic once the bleeding has stopped, then he wraps a band-aid around it. Just like him, you focus your gaze on your finger. Or maybe you’re stuck on the way he tends to you. Or the fact that this is the most physical touch you’ve done this past day when you normally can’t take your hands off each other. 

He sighs to himself. If he wasn’t so hung up on his hurt feelings, he’d be able to tend to you better. This might not even have happened if he’d just spoken to you last night. 

But he shakes the thought away. He’s still upset. But he’ll always want to take care of you; that’s the one thing that won’t ever change.

“Thank you,” you mumble, still not meeting his eyes.

“I’ll do this,” he says, waiting for you to step aside before he takes your place. 

“Jungkook dear, do you mind helping me with the glazed potatoes after you finish that?” She asks.

“Sure thing, auntie,” he replies. 

You watch him work around the kitchen the way he’s done so many times before, and your heart stings at the sight because you want to be doing this with him, with your parents, in your family kitchen. But it’s not like you could talk to him right now, not when you don’t know how to say what you want to say. So you head outside to where your dad is grilling the meat and help him instead. 

It’s not long after when dinner is ready, and you’re seated across Jungkook again. It’s a little tense when you look at him when he looks away, but Jimin thankfully finds a way to keep the conversation light and focused on him.

Your parents insist that both men don’t need to help clean up, and Jimin asks you if you’re really not going.

“Yeah I’ll just… stay home, make sure mom and dad are packed well and just get everything in order for tomorrow,” you say, half lying. 

“Gee, you make me look like a useless child,” Jimin pouts.

“You’re alright,” you hum. “You can drive them to the airport tomorrow.”

“But mom asked Jungkook to do that.”

“Well then you could just… make them a card or something,” you shrug. 

Your brother sticks his tongue at you and you do the same. 

“Fine, we’ll head out,” he announces.

“You guys have fun,” you say softly, glancing at Jungkook before walking towards the sink to do your duty. 

You turn to your brother. “Call me if you need me to pick you up. No driving drunk, okay?”

He salutes you in response then heads out after Jungkook.

It’s uneventful after that. You help your parents with last minute packing then have a long shower. You lie on your bed and mindlessly watch some movie on your laptop hoping that you’ll fall asleep soon, and that when you wake up, you’ll find the strength to go to Jungkook and tell him that you’re sorry and that you don’t want to go another day without him. 

“Hey, Jungkook. Dance with me.”

Jungkook looks up to find Hari and gives the same answer he’s given the last two times.

“Sorry, I’m injured,” he says. 

She raises her eyebrow as if she doesn’t believe him and he can’t blame her; he doesn’t exactly know how to act like it.

“Oh, Jimin. There you are,” she chirps as the said man approaches the table. “Dance with me.”

“Sorry, I'm injured.”

“Great. It’s my birthday and I spot two hot guys in this party without girls around them and they’re fake injured,” she scowls. “What’s up with you two?”

“I’m not in the mood,” Jungkook shrugs.

“I’m babysitting,” Jimin says, gesturing at his friend. “But Mingyu and Eunwoo are right there. Go tell them to dance with you.”

“Fine. I’ll get in line then,” she rolls her eyes then walks away.

“How come no one believes me when I say I’m injured?” Jungkook asks as he munches on the fried chicken wings his best friend got.

“Because you’re a terrible actor. People believe me because I’m believable,” Jimin hums.

“They believe you because you posted all over social media that you hurt your ankle,” Jungkook corrects. 

“Yeah but that was like, half a year ago.”

“Why are you even pretending you’re injured? You don’t have to stay with me, you know? Go to the dance floor and have fun. That’s your thing.”

“Well, maybe I’m also not in the mood because my best friend’s sulking,” Jimin frowns. 

“Gee, I wonder why.”

“You know my sister’s sorry, right?”

“She’s ashamed, that’s what she is. And I’m just supposed to live with that.”

Jimin sighs as he watches his best friend mindlessly stare out onto the dance floor. Jungkook’s probably trying to rid himself of the image of both of you dancing and kissing and having fun if you were here. He could be making sense of what he feels, or his mind could also just be completely blank right now.

But what Jimin knows is that another glass of whiskey is something that Jungkook shouldn’t be having, so he stops his best friend from ordering another one.

“You might get drunk and then you’ll call or go see her and then you’ll say things you’ll regret and then you’ll hurt her and you’ll get even more hurt and you’ll have a harder time fixing things and then it just won’t stop and you’ll feel stupid because you’re not talking over something you could easily fix,” Jimin heaves. 

It’s a lot to process but Jungkook knows that Jimin’s right. He’ll just get too emotional and won’t be able to control himself and despite what he feels, hurting you is the last thing he wants.

So he orders water instead, finishes it, then heads for the door.

“I don’t wanna be here anymore,” he says. “I need to get some air.”

They end up at a park, the one that you used to hang at with your friends in high school. Jungkook knows because he always accompanied Jimin there when you’d tell him where to meet you. It’s peaceful at this time of night and much more beautiful, too. It’s no surprise he keeps thinking that you’re right next to him, with your head on his chest and laughing at his jokes. 

“Why is this affecting me so much?” He wonders out loud. “Why am I so hurt and so stubborn?”

“Because she said something she shouldn’t have. But also because you put her on a pedestal,” Jimin answers. “She made a mistake, and you’re free to fault her for it. I mean, anytime someone we care about hurts us, it sucks like hell. But you also have to think that maybe it’s affecting you as much as it does because she’s always been faultless in your eyes and she isn’t.”

The reality is a slap on the face, but one that Jungkook thinks he needs to have. You were everything he ever wanted and these past three months have been a bliss. But now that reality hits and you have to face the pressure that’s part of your life, your humanness is showing. And that’s what he’s always liked about you, isn’t it? The imperfections and the flaws? Now that those are affecting him, it’s affecting him hard, and he’s having a hard time getting over it.

“Maybe once you accept that she’s human and not just the dream you’ve had since forever, then you’ll realize that things like that happen but she never means to hurt you,” Jimin adds. “You can’t think that she does. You learn to work it out by facing it, Kook. You have to talk about it. You have to tell her it hurts and you have to listen to what she says, and then you forgive. That’s kind of how grownup relationships go.”

“Guess I’ve never had one before, huh?”

“Maybe they just didn’t mean enough to hurt you.”

“This means everything, then,” Jungkook sighs, as things get clearer in his mind. “Because I think what hurts more now is not being next to her.”

“Great! Then can both of you patch things up now?” Jimin beams, feeling hopeful. “I hate seeing both of you sad and so stupid. Plus, my parents are leaving tomorrow and you won’t have a buffer anymore. So please just talk.”

Jungkook admits feeling touched. He knows at the end of the day, Jimin cares about him and you more than anyone, and he probably misses being around both of you at the same time. Jungkook does, too, but he misses you the most and it’s only been a day.

“Tomorrow,” he says. “I don’t know what to tell her and it’s late. She might be asleep and—”

“Now you’re just making excuses,” Jimin crosses his arms.

“Well, what if I expect her to be the one to talk to me?”

“She tried but you didn’t want to, remember?”

“That was last night. The wound was still fresh,” Jungkook pouts. 

“Oh god. I feel like I’m dealing with children,” Jimin groans.

“Imagine how we felt taking care of you,” Jungkook answers back.

“At least I was just one person,” Jimin rolls his eyes. 

“Your dramatics were equivalent to two people though.”

Both men bicker as they walk back to the car. It started to drizzle so they decided to go back to their respective homes. Jungkook could stay over at your place and maybe talk to you if he really wants to but he’s seriously just chickening out over it. 

He’s never had to make up with you because none of your previous arguments ever led to you not talking to each other, or him pushing you away. He’s never had to spend a day ignoring you. And now, there’s so much to say and so much to feel but he doesn’t know how to approach it. He’ll need tonight to sort himself out and then he’ll speak to you, maybe after he drives your parents to the airport. Or maybe on the way back. 

He drops Jimin off; 30 seconds later, he’s home, too. You’re so close but so far away just like you used to be. But at least this time he knows that when the next day comes, he’ll have a chance to just pull you close and tell you he doesn’t want to be like this ever again.

There’s an incessant knocking on your door, and as you’re about to yell out that you’re asleep, you realize it might be Jungkook. You sit up on your bed and when the door opens and you see your brother instead, your face falls.

“It’s just me, unfortunately,” he says. “Kook’s back at his place.”

“Oh,” you sigh. “Why are you home so early? It’s like, 11.”

“Because after the third girl, his fake injury excuse wore off and people just didn’t believe him. We looked like losers sitting on the table eating chicken,” Jimin chuckles. “So we left after an hour then went to a park and I knocked some sense into him and now he’s not so upset anymore. And I’m here to knock some sense into you, too.”

“I already know I made a mistake, Chim. I’m… I’m so fucking stupid. I just… don’t want him to think that I’m ashamed of him or that I don’t think he’s enough or any of that. I mean I’m—”

“Crazy about him, right?”

“I kinda am,” you smile softly.

“Good, because so is he and he’s hoping you’d go talk to him even if he says he’ll talk to you tomorrow. Don’t waste time anymore and—”

You’re bolting off your bed and putting on your hoodie before your brother could finish his sentence. 

“If mom and dad look for me, tell them I—”

“Got attacked by a clown in the sewer.”

You look at him incredulously then realize you’re wearing yellow then you frown. 

“Just make up some excuse. I’ll… hopefully be back in the morning,” you say.

“Alright. It’s drizzling though so—”

And just like that, you’re gone.

It takes all but 10 seconds for the rain to pour, and your hoodie and sweatpants are no match for it. You groan at your brother for underselling the weather but then again, you also should be thanking him for telling you what you needed to hear - that Jungkook’s not so upset anymore and that he’s hoping you’d speak to him. 

Much as you think you would’ve taken any chance today to patch things up, you also would’ve frozen in front of him. You suppose you needed to know he was ready for you, and if he wouldn’t tell you, then of course, Jimin would. You just really wish he had the foresight to know it would rain this hard but you’re probably asking for too much. 

But Jungkook’s place is just a few blocks from yours so you power through. When you get there, you realize that you forgot your phone, so you make the stupid decision of climbing over the short fence and then hitting your cut finger in the process. 

You have no time to feel pain though, as the next order of business is getting Jungkook’s attention. But before you can execute your plan of throwing rocks on his window, the front door opens, and you telepathically thank your brother who probably called your boyfriend to alert him that you’ll be arriving at his place wet from the rain.

“___, what are you doing here?” Jungkook asks with worry painted on his face. 

“I just… I needed to come and see you,” you manage to answer.

His face softens and you feel the hope bloom in your chest. He pulls you inside by the wrist and instructs you to quietly go up the stairs. You’re at least not drenched but you still got wet, so he leads you to the bathroom to wash up. He tells you to wait as he gets you something to change in, and he returns after half a minute with a towel and a large shirt.

“Cream and band-aid, for your wound,” he says, placing them on the counter. “My room’s the second door to the right, in case you forgot.”

You take him in, in his black tank top and shorts, his tongue playing with his lip ring the way he always does when he’s nervous. You manage to nod before he heads out, and you take a quick shower and then pull his oversized shirt over you. 

You quietly walk to his room, knocking on the door first before opening it slowly. It’s a bit dim but seeing him is all you need. After placing your clothes on the nearby chair, you look at him again. 

He looks tired and worried. He also looks like he has so much to say but he doesn’t know where to start. There’s a hint of sadness in his eyes but there’s longing, too, and you suppose he’s mirroring how you look. You feel a lot. You also want to say a lot, but you don’t know where or how to start. 

So you do the one thing you know often works. You approach him then wrap your arms around his torso. You fall into his embrace as quickly as he falls into yours, as he seems to have the same idea. You hold him tighter and pull him closer. You flush your cheeks on his chest while he buries his face on your neck. You grip his top and he does the same with yours. Your heart beats fast in longing and you feel his own do the same, too. 

There’s so much to feel and say but this is all you can do. And right now, it’s quite enough. 

You loosen your grip, but only so you could nuzzle his neck while your arms wrap around them. He feels so warm and he smells so delicate and he’s all you need.

“You knew I was coming?” You ask, turning to him

“Jimin said you were on your way without an umbrella and your phone,” Jungkook chuckles. But his face softens as he wipes the lone tear that falls down your cheek. “You’re lucky it wasn’t a typhoon or anything.”

“I had to get to you,” you mumble. 

“He also told me he wasn’t subtle in telling you to come here.”

“Well, he did say you wanted me to talk to you. And I wanted to. I just wasn’t sure if you were ready to hear me out and I was… giving you space.”

“Yeah well, I don’t know what to do with that space without you there,” he sighs, his eyes shy and absolutely adorable.

“Neither do I,” you smile. “So, uh. Will you invite me to your bed, maybe fill that space and more?”

“Of course,” he laughs, taking your hand and leading you there. 

You get under the covers and once he lies next to you, you scoot closer, hugging him again until you’re laying on top of him. But he doesn’t complain. He just hugs you back tightly, pulling you closer until he’s able to bask in your scent and the warm feel of you.

But despite the relief, you know you actually have to do the talking. You pull away and lay on your side. You take in his beauty and his softness and the way they make you feel like all is right again in the world. Your fingers trace his face, from his nose to his cheek to his lips, and he does the boyfriend thing of kissing your hand - including your cut finger - before wrapping it around his waist. He looks like he’s anticipating your words, too, so you try and hope they’re enough.

“Kook, I’m so sorry,” you start. “I… I have no excuse. I was being selfish and cowardly because I didn’t know how to tell my parents. I didn’t want to deal with what they’ll say about your job, knowing how they are and what they value and I just…”

“That’s for me to deal with though,” he says. “Because I chose this. And I’ve always known how they are but I still chose you.”

“It’s for us to deal with, and I did it so terribly,” you shake your head. “I don’t want you to think that I’m ashamed of you and what you do. That freedom, the ability to create… they’re things they don’t really understand. And I thought I knew how to make them. I just ended up denying us and that was so wrong. I’m so sorry.”

“I… I get it,” he responds, caressing your cheek now. “They worked so hard to give you this life and of course they want to make sure you’re taken care of. And for them, they only know of one way that could happen. I’d be naive to think they’ll just accept that the man who’s crazy about their daughter isn’t some corporate dude with secure employment and upward mobility in his career.”

He doesn’t miss your shy smile and the way you nibble your lip and that just triggers the butterflies in his belly. 

“But that’s for me to show them that I can take care of you, and not because you can’t do it yourself but because I want to,” he adds. “I… I wanna be that person who makes things better and easier for you and who makes you happy.”

And who makes you feel loved, he doesn’t say. That’s a conversation for another day, he thinks.

“You do,” you assure him. “And I feel it everyday. You’re good at that, and I don’t tell you enough.”

“I know now,” he smiles, leaning closer to kiss you softly. 

You return it but pull away. “Do you forgive me?”

“Of course I do,” he says, falling into the kiss that he gives again.

“Okay. I don’t wanna hurt you like that ever again.”

Your pouty face tugs his heart and he wants to tell you that none of that matters now because you’re back in each other’s arms, and that’ll always be enough for him. 

He just hums as he goes for another kiss that’s deeper this time. And when you let him push you to lay on your back as you moan against his lips, his heart soars even more. He’s missed you, and it’s definitely going to be a long night.

He hovers over you now, and he shivers when your fingers graze his neck and then his chest. You open your legs to meet his hips, and the feel of your clothed cunt against him has his brain short-circuiting. He gets in the rhythm of grinding against you while he kisses your lips then your jaw then your neck, his hand now sneaking under your shirt to fondle your breast.

It’s when he sucks on that sensitive part near your ear that you yelp in pleasure, and he immediately covers your mouth with his hand while he giggles.

“Gotta keep it down babe,” he whispers. “My parents are in the other room.”

But he doesn’t stop his kissing and you don’t really want him to.

“It’s not like you’re making it any easier,” you moan as he pinches your pert nipple.

“I’m not and I won’t, but you gotta try,” he smirks before his lips trail downward.

You’re unable to say anything once his tongue swirls around your buds. His hands wrap around your breasts that he praises, that he kisses and licks before slowly letting them go to hold onto your waist this time. He presses open-mouth kisses down your torso, his lips in tandem with your underwear that’s teasingly being removed off of you. 

You hear him let out a breathy moan as he spreads your legs wider. 

And while you know that this tender-hearted man has a cheeky streak in him, you didn’t expect for him to have his finger against his lips to shush you, knowing what he’s about to do. His smug face turns you on even more, and your breath is caught in your throat once you feel his tongue flat against your flesh, warming it up before the tip of his wet muscle swirls around your nub.

But you go along with his request, biting back your moan, even as your pussy chases his mouth for more. 

And it’s what he gives, as he dives in and sucks and bites your clit while his two fingers explore your hole. The cold of his lip ring is a contrast to how hot you feel, and it’s a sensation you can never get enough of. You whimper in silence but you manage to look at him, his eyes closed as he buries his face in your cunt. 

“Look at me,” you whisper and he follows, his gaze meeting yours. “Fuu-uuck, Kook. You feel so good,” your voice quivers.

His mouth’s full but yours is hanging open. You cover yours with your free hand while the other pulls on his long locks. He’s enjoying this so much, you can tell with the way he squeezes your thighs and moans against your skin. He follows a pace that has your body shaking, straining in intense pleasure until it gives in. You let out a low scream as your orgasm hits, and he’s right there, riding out your high with you.

He cleans you up with his tongue and then makes a show of licking your essence off his fingers before kissing you again.

“You did good,” he teases, as he caresses your cheek.

You’re about to say that so did he when bucks his hip against yours, and the feel of his hard cock against your still wet cunt ignites another fire in you. He repeats it, and it’s what has you moaning again.

“Fuck baby, I told you to keep it down,” he says, continuing his movements.

You know you can’t help it at this point, not when he’s back to licking your neck and kneading your breast.

“Whatever. Not like this isn’t new to your parents or anything,” you say. 

It’s a guess but you doubt you’re wrong.

“What? Fucking a girl in my room?” 

“Yeah?”

“But you’re the first girl I ever brought in here,” he cocks an eyebrow. 

“That’s uh, that’s kinda sweet,” you reply, your breath steadying now. 

“Yeah and well, who gets to say they fucked their childhod crush in their childhood bedroom?” He smirks again. “I can.”

He’s back to kissing you and much as you enjoy this, the itch to feel him in your mouth overtakes you, and you take the chance when he trails down your neck.

“So, can this childhood crush suck your dick?” 

“Yes, she can,” he chuckles.

He removes himself from you and leans against his bed frame. You get on your knees and pull off his boxers, salivating at the sight before you. You get on top of him, your damp lips gliding against his hard cock and his mouth drops open, an invitation for you to do what you wish.

With your movements on his hips, you focus on his neck, licking up the smooth flesh and the protruding vein that has him biting back his moan. Then you kiss him, desperately and passionately, as you slowly remove his tank top and rest your hands on his chest.

It’s your turn to trail kisses down his torso now and you give every inch of him ample attention. But when you make it further down, there’s one part of him that deserves so much more. You tease him only a little, stroking his length and kitten-licking his slit, before swallowing him whole and swirling your tongue around and all over his cock. He’s hard and thick and everything you want inside of you.

You hold back a gag while he holds back his whimpers. You stroke him relentlessly so you could watch his mouth hang open and his strained body almost folding in pleasure as his thighs tighten in your hold. 

“You like that, baby?” You hum.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good around me. Fuck,” he keens, his voice quivering now. 

You let his sounds guide you on how hard and how deep to go, but he’s the one who stops you, as he leans close and captures your lips in a searing kiss. He pulls you back on top of him to slide down his cock and the stretch makes you moan in his mouth. 

He’s propped up on his arms for support while you move up and down, loving how he drags inside you in an angle that has your mind going hazy. You wrap your arms around his neck while he pushes upward to meet you, and somehow doing this while trying to be quiet is making the pleasure more intense.

It gets too much for Jungkook and he wants more. He wants to hit your deepest spots. He wants to be as close to you as he possibly can. He wants to swallow your moans and touch every part of your body and pleasure you in every way that he’s able. 

So he pulls you off and lays you on your side, sliding back in from behind, with your one leg raised. The angle has you keening, even more when his one hand finds your breast and the other does its work on your clit. He pushes gently then roughly, no longer caring about the odd sounds the bed is making against his wall. He wouldn’t mind making up a reason to his parents if they ask him about it. Right now, all he wants is to reach his peak with you. 

Your body is shaking in pleasure and overstimulation but you urge him, wanting to feel his seed inside you as well.

You lick his mouth. “Baby please, I want to feel your cum inside me,” you beg. “I want you so bad, fuck fuck.”

He loves it when you plead to him like this. He loves hearing what he does to you. He revels in the way your body molds into his, the way it aches to be close and to be one with him. His movements continue, and with his unrhythmic pounding against your pussy, he comes. You come right after, caused by his intense fiddling of your clit, and you feel like floating, your body in the clouds of pure pleasure.

But like always, he’s there with you, making sure you safely fall into a bed of hugs and kisses and warmth. He stays inside you as he softens, but his arms wrap around you, his face in your neck as he mumbles words of praise. 

“Fifteen-year-old me would never believe this,” he heaves as he turns you over to face him.

You giggle in response. 

“You’re crazy, you know that?”

“I do. It’s how I am with you. In the best way, of course,” he smiles his boyish smile, an interesting mix of innocent and cheeky.

“It’s the same with me,” you whisper, kissing his nose. “And 18-year-old me would never believe this.”

You wake up the next morning to the alarm that you set on Jungkook’s phone. Your parents are leaving early in the afternoon and they wanted to prepare breakfast for all of you, and it’s a meal with them that you’re excited and a little nervous to have. 

You kiss the chest that your face is flushed against, and this elicits a groan from the man next to you. 

“Good morning, babe,” you greet, shifting up to kiss his nose this time. 

“G’morning,” he grunts.

“So, uh, we’re supposed to meet my parents for breakfast. And uh, I’m going to tell them about us.”

It’s what prompts him to finally open his eyes, and the softness in them makes your heart burst. 

“Okay,” he smiles. “I hope it won’t ruin their trip or anything.”

“It won’t,” you assure him. “I… I tried to get through to my mom yesterday. You know, just telling her the things I value and stuff.”

“Hmm. Jimin did the same with your dad. I guess I won’t be such a disappointment now, huh?”

“Shush, you’re not even that,” you pout. “I think they’ll understand.”

He mirrors your smile and there’s a giddy feeling at finally - hopefully - seeing your parents be happy for you. So you get off the bed and sneak out of Jungkook’s bedroom to go to the bathroom. 

You wash up quickly, only to make it to the hallway and find his parents standing there, wide-eyed as they look at you in surprise. You realize you’re only wearing Jungkook’s shirt that falls just above your knees and you try to cover whatever you can with your hands.

“Hi, uncle. Hi, auntie,” you shyly smile. “This, uh, this isn’t how I wanted to meet you.”

“Well, we don’t really mind,” Jungkook’s mother smiles. “We’re just glad you’re here. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you.”

“I know. I, uh, I wasn’t dating your son yet the last time I was here.”

“And that calls for a celebration, doesn’t it?” She giggles. “That boy has had a crush on you since forever. It’s funny he never believed that we knew. He wasn’t exactly subtle.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve heard that,” you laugh back.

You hear a door open and before you know it, large arms are wrapping around your waist and a mop of hair tickles your cheek. Jungkook grunts against your neck as he says that he’s finally awake, and you cringe at his parents’ amused faces.

“Kook, your parents are in front of us. This is so embarrassing.”

“Nah, they don’t mind. They’re cool,” he says.

“Yeah, and my parents aren’t,” you sigh.

“So, I’m guessing your parents don’t know yet?” His father asks.

Your pout prompts him to explain. “Well, the day after you got together, our lovesick son here told our family about both of you. But he said that you haven't told your parents yet so we’ve kept it from them ever since. It’s hard since we see them all the time but we managed.”

“Kook also told us about what happened,” his mother asks. “He was grumpy all day yesterday and we got him to tell us why he was so upset.”

“I’m sorry,” you pout again. “That wasn’t my finest moment.”

You feel Jungkook’s hold on you tighten, his way of telling you it’s all okay.

“It’s alright, darling,” she smiles. “We know how your parents are, and their reasons come from a good place. We tried to make this boy here understand them and you as well. Firstborns carry immense pressure to meet expectations; he just doesn’t get it because he’s the youngest. But it seems that it’s worked out with both of you, and we’re glad it did.”

“He couldn’t resist me,” you shrug, to his parents’ amusement. 

“Uh, you’re the one who walked through the rain to come see me,” he reminds you, his head popping out of your neck now. 

“You wanted me to.”

He tickles you in response and you’re all laughing in no time. It’s a different dynamic with his parents, as Jungkook always had a very close relationship with them. You saw it as a teenager and now, you get to be part of it, too.

They finally let you go and ask you to have dinner with them tomorrow, and that’s one meal that you’re definitely excited to have. 

You push Jungkook towards the bathroom and then return to his room to dress up. It’s shortly after when you’re both walking the few blocks to your house, fingers interlocked as you give each other comfort.

You make it home and once you unlock the door, you can already hear laughter and clanking pots from the kitchen. You head there, meet Jimin’s smug face, and clear your throat to announce your presence.

“Oh, there you are. We were wondering where you were,” your mother says. “And hi, Jungkook.”

He greets your parents and from behind you, you take his hand again. 

“I went for a walk… with Jungkook.”

He clears his throat and you backtrack.

“I mean, I, uh, was at his place. That’s where I slept.”

“Oh?” Your parents say at the same time, their eyes looking at you in confusion.

“He’s kinda my boyfriend.”

“Kinda? Babe, I think I’m more than ‘kinda’ your boyfriend,” he exclaims. 

Your parents look shocked and next to them, Jimin is laughing in his seat.

“I mean, he is my legit, actual boyfriend,” you correct. “The new thing in my life that I denied is actually him. And the person who stands by me, who makes me enjoy the moments? That’s him, too.”

Their faces soften, and somehow that’s the comfort you need. Perhaps all the talking that you and your brother have done has gotten into them. You wouldn’t be surprised if they talked about it, too.

“Why didn’t you tell us, then?” Your mother asks.

“Because he’s not what you expected,” you sigh. “And I didn’t know how you’d take it.”

“Well, he is your brother’s best friend,” she points out. 

“Who’s had a crush on me since he was a teenager,” you explain.

“That’s… not surprising,” your father laughs. “We could tell.”

“Oh my god, Kook. You are not subtle,” you elbow him. You turn back at them. “But I… I didn’t know how to tell you because you expect me to have a partner who’s part of your world, you know? And Jungkook likes his freedom. He likes his art and… he really likes me. And I happen to really like him, too.”

“He treats you well? Makes you happy? He’s someone you can depend on when things get tough?” Your father asks. 

He smiles tenderly at you and you feel like crying.

“Yes, very much,” you nod.

“Then I think he’s everything we need him to be. A good partner, I’d say.”

You let out a sigh of relief. This is all you needed to hear.

“We’re sorry if you felt like you couldn’t be honest with us,” your mother shakes her head. “I guess we just needed some reminding of what we want for you and your brother. And well, Jungkook’s shown us his heart all these years. He’s always been a part of the family and he’ll be even more.”

They’re words that Jungkook didn’t expect would get him emotional, and he hugs you from behind just to steady himself. But it’s what makes your mother walk towards him for a hug, and your father surprisingly does the same. 

“Alright, I guess it’s fitting to have this family breakfast together,” your mother says.

You all take your seats at the dining table, with yours being next to Jungkook now.

Jimin cheekily smiles. “Well, if this whole dance thing doesn’t work out, I guess I can just be a counselor or family therapist or something.”

“Just don’t call your clients ‘stupid,’” you roll your eyes.

“I won’t. That’s only reserved for you.”

And just like that, everything is as it should be.

You get through breakfast with lots of laughter, as you and Jungkook tell your own versions of the story while Jimin butts in to tell his own. It’s heartwarming to see your parents this way, especially when they tease your boyfriend about his crush on you growing up. 

But even they admit that they’ve depended on him all these years, too, and that they don’t doubt his loyalty and commitment to you. 

You share a tense moment with him after you all drop your parents to the airport, though. Jungkook has just unloaded all their things and as they hug you goodbye, your father teases.

“Just don’t welcome us home and tell us we're grandparents already.”

Jungkook dry laughs and so do you. That’s another topic for another day, you suppose, and while you’re still unsure of having a family, you just know it’s something you’ll both talk about.

You all get home soon after to wash up. Jungkook’s excited about how you’ll spend the day now that you’re both talking again, and you suggest hanging by the beach and then going out for dinner. 

Jimin says he’ll stay home to let you two make up for the past two days and so he could have that online date with Taehyung, and you agree.

You and Jungkook end up having a really good day. 

You go to a mall and walk around. He gets you a pair of stud earrings to commemorate the day you went official to your parents and you buy him a silver chain necklace for the same silly reason, but also because he looks really good in one and you want him to have more. It pairs real nicely with the shirt and joggers casual outfit he’s been sporting these past days, and the teasing look he makes after he puts it on reminds you of that one time his necklace was dangling on your face when he was pounding into you on your couch.

You get fruit drinks and snacks at the stalls you both used to buy from as teenagers, then you head to the beach where you lounge until sunset. You wade in the water, splash each other, and then make out when there’s no one around. 

You feel so free and light, so young and hopeful. These are the moments you love having with him, the ones you like to enjoy and savor and have more of. And you know you’ll have them for the rest of this trip and when you get back to Seoul. 

Jimin joins you for dinner at a burger place, then you all buy cup noodles and beer and head to your favorite park. It’s just like how most of your nights together go, just in the outdoors. You and your brother bicker and Jungkook referees; there’s also the occasional “you’re so cheesy” comment from you to your boyfriend and Jimin’s gagging sound. 

You confirm plans for the rest of the trip. Your parents will be enjoying Hawaii for close to two weeks, and you have all that time to rest and spend time with your two favorite people. You’ll be off work. Jungkook has some projects to finalize while you do your own thing, and Jimin will be watching dance shows to get him inspired. 

But there are more beaches and parks and villages to visit. There’s also that two-night stay at a resort you’ll be having. There are other sites and restaurants to go to, and you’ll be reliving your teenage years together while making new memories.

You’re now back at home, snug in Jungkook’s arms as he leans against the bed frame in your room, with you in between his legs. 

“Today was a really good day,” you say, turning to him after he kisses your cheek.

“Today was amazing,” he hums.

He smiles as he replays the scenes of you shopping for each other, frolicking on the beach, and walking around your favorite spots. They’re all so simple and things you’ve done before but today felt so much more. There was a look in your eyes that held such tenderness and care for him. You held his hand as if you didn’t want to ever let go, as if you didn’t want him to.

“I really like you, Kook,” you mumble, almost like a confession, as if it’s not known. “I don’t know how else to say it.”

His eyes soften, as does his smile that he’s had on pretty much the whole day. But he just looks at you, and though you know he feels the same way, you want to hear him verbalize it again.

“Hey, say it back,” you nudge him. 

“I love you though,” he says after a beat of silence.

You’re now the one who looks at him, unable to say a word. 

“Are you that surprised?” He looks back at you nervously, nibbling his lip ring. “I mean, I think it’s quite obvious, just like everything I feel about you is.”

“Kook, I…” you try, but you don’t exactly know how to respond. 

You don’t doubt his feelings but somehow you can’t help but think that maybe right now, he loves the idea of you and not you, and there’s a difference.

“I think I always have but I guess I didn’t realize just how much until this whole thing happened,” he continues, wanting you to understand what he feels. “I asked Jimin why it was affecting me so much and he said it’s because I put you on a pedestal. You were this dream I’ve had for so long that I admired from a distance and now I get to be with you and you’re… human, not some flawless being who doesn’t make mistakes. So when you hurt me, I faltered. That’s on me, too. Because I… I expected too much. And I’m sorry.”

His focus is on his hands that are playing with yours before he turns to you again.

“I realized that I wanted so badly for you to want me, that’s why it hurt. I wanted to be that person you cared for and trusted and needed because you’re all that for me. And when I saw you at my door last night, nothing else mattered but you,” he continues. 

“Whatever misunderstanding or mistake or disagreement, I learned to accept them and I just wanted you, in my arms, so I could show you that you’re all I need. I’ve dreamt of you for so long and this version of you is more than I could’ve imagined. And I just… I love you, okay? It doesn’t matter how you feel. I just need you to know that I do, and I don’t think I’ll stop.”

Your heart is about to burst, and all you could do is cup his face in your hands and kiss him, hard and deep until you run out of air. You kiss him eagerly because you’re desperate for his touch. You kiss him passionately because there are things you feel that you can’t put into words yet, and this is how you tell him. 

He’s quick to follow your pace, wrapping his arms around your waist as he helps you sit on his lap. Your fingers comb through his hair and grip his top and pull him closer, all while you grind against him and moan in his mouth. 

But when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and caresses your cheek, you go tender. 

“I love you so much,” he whispers against your lips, and all you feel is the warmth of his touch and how it’s all the comfort and security and stability that you need.

You slowly pull away and graze your nose against his. You don’t say anything else and he doesn’t expect you to. But you kiss his cheek and hug him, and you hear him sigh in relief.

He pulls away and cheekily smiles. 

“You know, there’s a song for this.”

“A—what?” You laugh.

“A song.”

He pulls away from you then stands from the bed. “Let me get it from Jimin’s room.”

You stare at him questioningly because you really didn’t think he could surprise you even more. He returns with one of his burned CDs and you ask him if he has a sex playlist or something. 

“I used to daydream about you to this,” he says, as he puts it in the CD player that your parents got you for your 17th birthday. “I listened to it after that very kiss we had and, well, we’re back home rehashing so many memories and I kinda just want to fulfill another fantasy of mine.”

He plays the song and the first notes get you all giddy and excited and nostalgic and very much turned on. 

“This was my favorite song,” you say, as you signal him to come closer.

“I know. You played it all the time, I could hear it from the other room.”

You giggle, and it’s a sound he wants to listen to forever. 

“So, what’s this fantasy of yours?” You ask, as you take your shirt off.

He licks his lips at the breathtaking sight of you, but he softens at the fairy tattoo on your shoulder, the one he customized and that you love showing off.

“Just… make love to you while this plays in the background,” he manages to say. 

Your face softens, too, and it’s a sight he also wants to see everyday of his life.

“I’m all yours, Kook. Do whatever you please.”

It’s a week later when you tell him. 

You’d just gotten back from that short trip to a resort that had you relaxed and stuffed with food. You video called with your parents during their sunset cruise and your father once again teased about not being grandparents yet and just like the first time, you brushed it off. 

You’re lying on Jungkook’s chest as you laugh about Jimin’s terrible bowling skills. And in the silence, he asks, “does it bother you that your parents expect you to have kids?”

You knew he’d picked up on it the first time, but it’s just now that he’s bringing it up.

“A little. I try not to think about it though,” you sigh. “It’s another one of those expectations, you know? But I guess it’s a harder thing to talk to them about, that I don’t know if I want kids.”

He just hums and combs your hair with his fingers.

“Does it bother you?” You ask, suddenly feeling nervous. You know enough this is a make-or-break for many people. 

“Not really,” he says. “It’s not easy to raise a child, much less carry one, and that’s something I can’t do for you. But I guess, it doesn’t matter. We can have kids. Or not. We can have a dog or a pet tortoise or a fish, really. When I think of a future, all I see is you. The rest is just a bonus.”

He speaks of your future with such certainty. He’s always talked about enjoying the moments but the one version of a future he wants is the one where you’re with him. 

“I just want you to know that whatever you’re worried about, share it with me. I don’t want you to worry about me. We do this together. We figure it out together,” he adds. 

And just like that, the fears and pressure you feel slowly dissipate. He’s the only version of the future you want. Everything else is just a bonus. 

You turn to him with a kiss on his cheek. 

“I love you, Kook. I don’t want anyone else to love me, and I don’t want to love anybody else,” you whisper like a plea, just like a promise. 

“I’m not loving anybody else,” he kisses you. 

And it’s his own promise he makes.

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[natsukishinomiyaswife]

Lovesick

This is a love letter to all of my wonderful friends, who I appreciate so so much!! ♡ These are short scenarios featuring their favorite characters being sappy and in love with the Reader ♡ Enjoy! ♡

Characters included: Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Jamil, Rook, Vil, Idia, Lilia

Leona Kingscholar

☆ For @midnightmah07, @meltedbluecaterpillar, @nicoliharu, @crystallizsch ☆

The botanical gardens was home to many plants, interesting and unique. Some were breathtaking, some were bizarre, drawing people in with their appearance and scent.

Napping in the gardens Leona has seen many, none of them getting his attention. Flowers, bushes, trees. None of them could compare to you, to your smile, to your eyes.

He cracks an eye open when he hears you enter, familiar with the sound of your footsteps. He'll go back to sleep later, after he admires the scenery for a bit. You always were his favorite sight ♡

Ruggie Bucchi

☆ For @midnightmah07, @nicoliharu ☆

Ruggie's a thief, and he'll take whatever he can get from you.

Your attention, your laughter, your smile. He wants it all, and all for himself. So he'll tease you, taking something small while you're unaware. It guarantees he can see you again, talking and laughing as he teases you once more.

It's only fair, after all. You already stole his heart. So let him steal yours too, alright? ♡

Jack Howl

☆ For @skriblee-ksk ☆

Comfort, safety, piece of mind. His feelings for you feel too much at times, wishing to take care of you however he can.

To protect you, and that smile he adores. He doesn't even notice at first how you do the same for him, looking out for him and caring for his safety.

He's supposed to protect you, yet here you are, protecting him in turn. He can't help but smile at the thought, knowing you had each other's backs. You can rely on him, just like he can rely on you. His amazing partner, his one and only. The only love for him ♡

Jamil Viper

☆ For @crystallizsch, @midnightmah07, @cheerleaderman, @0honeybones0 ☆

You don't need an excuse to dance, no party or music needed. Dancing comes naturally to you and Jamil, the motions, the laughter. The looks, the mutual smiles.

Your dance was cautious and slow at first, Jamil keeping his distance. Over time the dance changed, each of you moving closer, your hands joining together.

Your dance isn't perfect, filled with bumps and missteps. Yet, it was perfect for you, moving alongside Jamil with a laugh. He hopes this dance will never end ♡

Rook Hunt

☆ For @offorestsongs ☆

There were many beautiful things in the world, many that he's seen. None of them can compare to you, to the beauty that you have, to the love that you've shown him.

Watching from afar isn't enough, and photographs can only capture so much. Your personality, your heart, that voice that rings in his ears and drifts him to sleep. The eyes he dreams of, the smile he longs to wake up to.

He'll write you as many letters as it takes, as many poems, as many songs. Until you feel just as beautiful as he sees you, until you know just how loved and adored you are ♡

Vil Schoenheit

☆ For @offorestsongs, @ladyzsgolla ☆

We all have bad days, days that don't seem to go right and leave us feeling down. Vil understands, he experiences them too. Days he's unhappy with his appearance, with his acting, with the work that he's done. Feeling like it's not enough.

He gives you a space to relax, a space to breathe, alone in the comfort of his room. He takes the time to remove your makeup (if you wear it), drying your tears as he soothes you with his words.

He touches you gently, as if you were fragile, precious. Running his hand's through your hair, giving you something more comfortable to wear. He gets you to bed, holding you close in his arms.

You've done the same for him in the past, helping him remove his makeup, taking down his hair. The comfort you would provide him after a frustrating day meant so much to him, just like the hold you had on his heart. It's the least he could do, wanting you to know just how much he loves you. Just how much he cares ♡

Idia Shroud

☆ For @cheerleaderman (and myself lol ♡) ☆

Late night messages, gaming sessions, voice calls that last for hours. You were different than he expected, having similar interests and hobbies. He wasn't sure when the shift happened, when your friendship became so much more.

He doesn't want to call it love (he can't, there's no way), but he can't ignore what he feels either. The smile he gets when there's a new message from you, how his heart races when you remember a show he likes or a reference he made.

When did he start ordering merch from a game he doesn't play, knowing you would like it? When did he start buying snacks you like, hoping you'd stop by?

He won't say he's in love (he can't), but he might be... falling for you (even if it scares him to think about) ♡

Lilia Vanrouge

☆ For @ladyzsgolla ☆

The years pass by, yet Lilia remains, watching as people come and go. The days were too short, the months not long enough, Silver growing before him.

He watches his sons, teenagers now, making friends and considering their futures. It makes him think of his future, of the time he has left, how short the years seemed to be.

Then he met you, with your playful words and teasing banter. The surprise in your eyes as he appears in front of you, how your face lights up as you laugh at his mischief.

He feels younger, like a boy with a crush, his heart racing as he watches you fondly. How long has it been since he felt this way? He couldn't recall, moving the thought to the back of his mind.

For now, he wants to enjoy every moment he can with you. For however long time will allow ♡

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

[brokenmenswhore]

I need more stuff with poly!maraudersxreader spicy stuff🤭

i am but your humble servant 🙇‍♀️

mean | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, & sirius)

summary: the boys get jealous seeing you with a study partner, and you reap the consequences when you tell sirius he was being ‘mean’

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), rough sex, use of the word daddy twice

a/n: is my sirius favoritism showing too much or no

────── ☾ ──────

“I don’t think I’ll ever actually understand this class,” you said, the library study session beginning to take its toll.

“You’re getting it!” Evan encouraged, “we just need to work on it a little bit more.”

“I appreciate your faith in me, but I think after four hours, I either get it or I don’t,” you replied.

“I don’t mind the time,” Evan said, “especially when I get to spend it with you.”

Your three boyfriends could hear every single word exchanged between the two of you, being that they were seated only two tables away, and the second they heard Evan’s statement, Sirius jolted upwards from his chair.

“Sit down,” Remus instructed, “what are you gonna do? Kill him in the middle of our entire year?”

“Yeah, Remus, I just might,” Sirius responded, but still sat back down, eyes never leaving the two of you.

“You have to trust her, Sirius,” James scolded.

“It’s not her I don’t trust,” Sirius said, nostrils flaring in a rage.

Evan was sitting much closer to you than the boys were comfortable with, but they had to trust that you would shut him down if he overstepped.

“Yeah, this has at least been fun!” you told Evan, “but I think I’m a lost cause. This library is beginning to feel like an asylum.”

Evan shrugged, “I mean, we could change the scenery if that’s the problem. There’s usually not anyone in the fifth year potions classroom after the midday class. It would be quiet, and we could be alone and really focus.”

Evan shifted his chair even closer to you, placing an arm around the back of your chair, and leaning closer to you.

“That’s it, I’m gonna kill him,” Sirius said, standing up and reaching your table before Remus or James could keep him at bay.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Sirius spat, hands on the table as he leaned in, standing across from you.

“Studying?” you replied as Evan backed off.

“Studying,” he mocked in a high tone, “tell him he better get the fuck away from you if he wants to continue breathing.”

“I’m right here, Black, if you have a problem, say it straight to me,” Evan retorted, standing up to meet Sirius’s eye level.

“Ok, Rosier,” Sirius cleared his throat, “I have a problem with you attempting to feel up my girlfriend and then get her alone. I also have a problem with the lack of bruising on your face.”

“Sirius!” you and Remus scolded in unison, the other two boys now next to Sirius, ready to pull him back if he decided to lunge.

“I didn’t do a single thing,” Evan protested, “but if you’re so insecure that you think studying means she’ll cheat on you, maybe she never really liked you in the first place. She could do better anyway.”

Sirius went to jump over the table, but Remus and James held onto one arm each, holding him back as Evan laughed.

“This is not worth it,” Evan told you, “I’ll see you around.”

“Evan, I’m sorry-“ you tried to say as he walked away, your attention turning to Sirius. You were angry with him for the way he was acting, but his fury far outweighed yours.

Remus and James dropped their grip on Sirius when he calmed down. Sirius glared daggers into you. “Just studying, eh?”

“We were just studying until you tried to attack him,” you retorted.

“Go to the dorm room now before I decide to make you feel sorry right here. We’ll meet you up there.”

“But I still-“

“Now.”

The rage in Sirius’ voice was not something to take lightly. When he was mad, making him angrier often ended badly. You retreated to the dorms, seated cross-legged on your bed with a textbook open as you waited for your boyfriends to arrive.

The door to the dorms swung open so hard that the door slammed open against the wall. All three of your partners entered the room, Sirius stomping straight over to you and wrapping a hand around your throat.

“Had a fun day toying with other boys, huh?” he asked.

“Sirius, please, I really was just trying to study,” you pleaded, eyes finding Remus and James and searching for help, “you guys should know that I would never do that to you.”

“I know, baby,” Sirius’ voice weakened, his anger breaking at your pleas, “I’m just mad someone else tried to take what’s mine.”

“I think he was trying to make us jealous, too,” Remus added, “and it worked.”

“Is that what the big issue is?” you asked for clarification, “you’re all jealous?”

“He got really close to you,” James responded, the candor in his voice hurting your heart.

“I’m yours,” you said, grabbing the wrist around your throat, “I’m all of yours, and yours only, you know that.”

“We know,” Sirius said, “I’m just so mad. I can’t calm down.”

“You need to release the energy, Sirius,” James said, “you’re never gonna get past this if you don’t.”

Sirius looked into your eyes, and you gave him a slight nod, signaling to him that he could use you to release the energy. He had a lot of pent up rage from the earlier incident that he needed to let out. He needed to remind you, and himself, that you were his.

Sirius crashed his lips onto yours, a hand still on your throat as he pushed you back against the headboard.

Remus threw the textbook in front of you onto the floor, pulling your legs from their position until they were out in front of you. He kissed up your thighs until he was under your skirt, kissing on top your underwear as you let out a small moan into Sirius’s mouth.

Remus moved your underwear to the side, immediately diving in between your folds with his tongue, causing you to gasp. Sirius pulled away from your mouth, allowing him to hear the noises you made. You whined as Remus shoved his tongue into your soaking wet hole, the intrusion catching you off guard.

“Shit, Remmy,” you whimpered.

“Gotta remind you who you belong to, dove,” James spoke, taking a seat on the bed next to you, “you remember?”

“I’m y-yours, shit, James, all yours,” you whined as Remus continued to fuck you with his tongue, your hand taking its place on his head, fingers entwined in his hair, holding him in place.

“No fair,” Sirius pouted, “why do you get to hear her moan your name when I’m the one who got mad in the first place?”

“Y-ou were mean,” you explained, breathing heavy, making talking difficult as ever, trying to give Sirius the reason you weren’t focusing your attention to him, despite your better judgement.

Remus heard you and immediately stopped his assault on your core. You tried to push his head back down in desperation, but he took your hands off of his head, pinning them to your sides.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Sirius questioned, tone low and dark.

“Nothing,” you answered, hoping they would let it go but knowing better.

“I was mean, huh? I don’t deserve to hear you moan my name then, is that it? You think you’re so big and powerful, punishing me because I was mean?” Sirius was growing angrier and angrier, his rage overtaking him again.

“I- I’m sorry,” you tried to backtrack.

“No, no, it’s too late for that now. If you think I don’t deserve to hear you, then I won’t do anything that constitutes a noise. You don’t want me, then so be it.”

“No, please, I do, I want you, please-“

“Tell it to James,” Sirius cut you off. He was mad at you for talking back to him, and mad about earlier, but he was strictly doing this to punish you. He knew you loved how he fucked you when he was mad, and he was threatening to deny you what you wanted.

“Jamesie, please, tell him that I w-“

“Uh uh,” James tutted, “you’re with me now, not Sirius. You don’t get to have him now.”

You pouted, tears threatening to spill as you looked up at James. He leaned over you, kissing your forehead before your lips, distracting you with his mouth before a hand lifted up your skirt and traveled beneath the waistband of your underwear, finding its home on your pearl.

James began to rub in circles, eliciting a moan in the kiss.

“Remus, I think you can go back now,” James spoke.

Remus kept your hands pinned at your sides but shifted downward, tongue reentering you as James rubbed you off, the feeling of two different men on your core driving you insane.

Sirius slumped down on a chair a few feet away, lighting a cigarette as he watched Remus and James overstimulate you as they held you down.

“Jamie, please,” you moaned.

“Please what, dove?” James asked, beginning to touch any part of your core he could, the pleasure becoming too much to handle.

“Please let me come,” you begged.

James looked at Remus, who made eye contact with him, but never left you alone. He shoved his tongue in and out of you, curling it upwards once inside, eyes focused on James as he waited for any signal to stop.

James, however, was always the nicest to you in the bedroom. Though he knew Sirius and Remus would usually stop now, he was making the call, and he hated denying you your pleasure, even if you were being punished.

He leaned in and kissed you, his touch quickening and hardening as Remus continued to taste as much of you as he could, causing your climax to hit you without warning. You squealed and moaned into James’s mouth, legs shaking as Remus licked up any remnants of your high before pulling away from you and standing up.

You attempted to catch your breath as Sirius took one last drag of his cigarette, extinguishing the flame and walking over to you, your cheeks flushed and chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to calm down.

“See, you didn’t need me, did you?” Sirius taunted.

“I-“

“Still don’t want me?”

You furiously shook your head no. “No, nonono, I want you, please, I need you,” you begged.

“Even though I’m so fucking mean?” he spat, intentionally working himself up to an angry place again.

“Yes, daddy, please,” you replied, using the name for him that you knew he couldn’t resist.

Sirius growled, tugging on his jeans and crawling over you, lightly kissing your neck before meeting your gaze.

“Beg for me,” he demanded.

Your heart was beating so hard it made your chest sore. “Please, daddy, I want you.”

“I think he’s earned hearing his name, sweetheart,” Remus spoke from beside you.

“Please, I need you so bad, Siri, I-“

The second you spoke his name, Sirius pushed your skirt up to your waist and your underwear to the side, inserting his entire length into you in one quick motion, a move he loved to use when he was punishing you for something. Though he had been inside of you plenty of times, he was too large to simply just start fucking you without a warm up, unless, that is, he was purposefully being mean.

You let out a high pitched moan at the intrusion, always forgetting just how deep his cock hits within you.

He then pulled almost his entire length out of you before slamming it back in, your body jolting upwards at the feeling of his hips snapping against yours. He started to fuck you, fast and hard, leaving no time for you to adjust to him or his size.

“Siri, fuck,” you moaned.

“That’s it,” he breathed, “you’re all mine. You fucking belong to me.”

All three boys were possessive of you, but knew you ‘belonged’ to all three of them, not just one. However, when Sirius was mad, the other boys didn’t matter. They knew he needed to feel like you were his and only his. All the boys needed that one-on-one intimacy at times, but Sirius craved it all the time, and sometimes Remus suspected that he really did wish you were all his.

“It’s too much, can’t- I c-“ you started to plead, but Sirius didn’t care, continuing his ruthless pace that nearly had your head slamming upwards into the headboard with each thrust.

“You can, and you will,” Sirius spoke, “you’re all fucking mine. I don’t even want anyone else near you. You’re gonna take it like a good girl so that everyone can hear who you belong to, understood?”

You nodded, taking a moment to process that you had to speak. “Yes, Siri.”

“Good girl,” he said, one of his hands grabbing your throat as he snapped his hips at an almost violent pace.

“Siri, please, I’m gonna c-“

“You know you’re supposed to wait until he comes,” Remus reminded you, “or else it just isn’t fair.”

“B- but- I-“

“No buts,” Remus said, running a thumb over your cheek to collect the tears that were now falling, “you wait until Siri is ready, and then you come with him. He deserves at least that much.”

Your walls were clenching around his cock, and you fought desperately not to come. You knew you were supposed to wait and come in unison with whoever was fucking you, but you were overstimulated, and Sirius’s possessiveness was hot.

“That’s right, baby, you gotta wait,” Sirius cooed, “my girl only comes when I say she can. You’re my girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Siri, I’m yours,” you responded, your hands grabbing desperately at his shoulders to steady yourself, “all yours.”

Sirius ran a hand over your body, scanning every inch of you as he fucked you. “All mine,” he whispered, almost more to himself than to you.

Sirius’s thrusts began to become erratic and sloppy, his high approaching as his clock twitched inside of you.

“You gonna come with me, love?” Sirius asked, and you whined in response, signaling that you were ready.

Sirius tightened his grip around your throat. “Come for me,” he commanded, “for me and only me.”

Your walls clenched around Sirius one last time as you came around him, one final “Sirius!” leaving your lips as you did.

The feeling of you coming around him caused Sirius to reach his high, his final few thrusts sharp and deep inside of you.

He took a moment to collect himself and catch his breath before pulling out of you.

“You remember who you belong to now?” James asked, sweetly repositioning your skirt over you to allow you modesty as you calmed down.

“Mhm,” you began to feel tired, “I’m all of yours.”

[uglypastels]

Ridlington Park | I | Eddie Munson regency!au

Author's Note: It has been a long, long time, but I am back with another obnoxious AU. I hope you enjoy as we embark on this new adventure in Regency England. This story has been in the works for almost 2 years and is still far from finished, but I am having too much fun with this and have way too many ideas on where to take it, so suggestions are very much appreciated.

Word Count: 10k

Do be warned, Dear Reader, for this story in its entirety may contain:

female!reader. slow burn. forbidden romance. jealousy. pining. smut. alcohol consumption. swearing. OC family. horses. talks of arranged marriage. historical facts as well as trivial inaccuracies.

Due to the adult nature of the story, this author also kindly but sternly requires underage readers to pursue other works. 

The Ridlington Park Collection | Correspondence | Join the Taglist

Chapter One: A Game of Perseverance

“I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them.”

– Jane Austen, Letter to her sister Cassandra, 1798

Three stories high, full of balconied windows, the house stood tall and overlooked the entire street. Ridlington Park, they called it, and situated at the centre of life–that is, London–the front door of the building was enveloped in flowers matching the seasons all year long. Currently, it was bright peonies that caught the onlooker’s eye. The perfectly trimmed bushes and trees were planted symmetrically, leading up to the front doors, giving visitors the right impression of what they could await once they stepped inside.

The residing family had spent a good fortune and effort ensuring the house represented them perfectly: clean, fortunate, and grand, but all done so in the utmost respectable and modest fashion as they were never the ones to boast. The walls had a light, warm tone reminiscent of early mornings in Spring, and the interior was decorated with portraits, new and old, beautiful oil sceneries of lands near and far, and busts and vases. 

The evening was slowly approaching, the sun setting over the windows of the drawing room, enwrapping everything in a golden glow. The family sat silently around the room, giving each other the peace and quiet required for an uneventful afternoon followed by a slow night of fortunate sleep. The only sound appreciated was the pianoforte siding against the window, gracefully played by Mother. Four children sat around the separate corners of their world, enjoying the music while focusing on their own activities. Like most nights, these consisted of either reading or needlework, engaging in small conversations with one another occasionally. 

As typical as any evening at Ridlington Park, it was highly unusual for the rest of London– a city which runs on scandals and gossip. Outside, the streets were bustling with lords and ladies of the Ton making their way back home from the markets, gardens and their fellows’ tea parties, gossiping about the latest impropriety to have occurred. After all, such topics, no more than nonsense really, were simply inescapable. And no matter how hard they tried to ignore it all, one way or another, it would always find its way up to the Byrnwick family. Most of the time, you, Gentle Reader, could hold yourself accountable for introducing the rumours proudly, much to your brother’s annoyance, who did his best to turn the pages of his novel as loud as possible as you talked with your mother from across the room. 

‘Have you heard what happened at Lady Faulkner’s ball?’

  ‘Yes, sordid, really.’ Your mother sighed, turning around. ‘I am sure her family is in quite the uproar.’

‘Please,’ Christopher, your brother, shut his book down in frustration, clearly incapable of making any progress amidst the conversation. ‘If she had not wanted to get caught, she should have maybe ought to think twice about being out with a man in the middle of the gardens for everyone to see.’ 

You glared up at him. ‘Well, it is absurd that a woman cannot even stand in a public space with a man without bringing disgrace onto her entire family.’

‘Believe me; she did much more than just standing.’ Christopher scoffed, quickly receiving a cold stare from your mother. 

‘Still, it is unjust.’ You ignored his insinuations. ‘Think of how men are free to go out at any time of day or night with whomever they please.’ You stabbed your needle through the cloth a bit harsher than intended.

‘My, you sure seem to be giving all this much thought. Have you any plans we should know about, sister?’ Your brother smirked.

‘Christopher!’ Your mother scowled. ‘That is quite enough.’

‘I was only joking, Mother,’ Christopher sighed, ‘we all know she is not going anywhere anytime soon.’

You were ready to retort angrily, or at least throw your needle at him, when the doors to the drawing room opened, catching everyone’s attention by storm. Five pairs of identical eyes directly aimed at the door frame, only softening when recognising the intruders. A welcoming of surprised gasps greeted the Lord and his eldest, Nicholas, as they entered the room. Not one foot in the room, and all activities were being put to a halt as the rest of the family gathered around the men—a loving reunion after a months-long journey from the Americas. 

It was a surprising return, for father and son had yet to write of their plans in recent times. The last letter was received at Ridlington Park over three weeks ago, stating that the weather was amiable, if not a bit too humid, and that the family missed each other deeply. The lack of correspondence, therefore, was also an immediate subject. 

‘But why did you not write, dear?’ asked Mother, after embracing her son. Nicholas was too occupied by his youngest sibling to answer; airways tightened in the arms of his 11-year-old sister, Marjorie. His father responded instead:

‘How could we write at sea, my love? The message would not have gotten here any faster than we did,’ the lord chuckled to his wife. He was correct, too, of course. His eyes seemed to surpass the gaze of his present family members in search of the one missing piece. ‘Where is Annabelle? I thought she would be home by now.’ 

‘She is home, with her husband,’ you explained carefully. Your father blinked slowly, coming to terms with this fact he had tried to avoid for so long. Annabelle had married last season and was very well off, to a Duke, no less, but it was still a big adjustment for the family seeing her gone and out of the house. Even with her frequent visits, it was strange to have one head less at the dinner table; one less chair occupied each evening, one less song played on the pianoforte. 

‘Ah, well then,’ Father cleared his throat, ‘then we are complete.’ He looked at his wife and five children. One day, there would be even fewer of them. They will all be leaving the nest one by one. For some, marriage was long overdue, and as a man of high society, he could not wish his children a suitor or a lady soon enough, but as a father, he dreaded the day that the following proposals would take place.

Marjorie, becoming impatient and not as sentimental about her family’s reunion, tugged at Nicholas’ sleeve. ‘Come, you must tell us everything about your journey!’ She kept pulling until the eldest brother had no choice but to follow her and sit on the couch. Soon, everyone else joined on the chaises. 

‘I am afraid there is very little to tell,’ Nicholas said, taking a chocolate biscuit off the tray beside the sofa. ‘It was all rather dull.’ 

‘Do not be ridiculous, brother,’ Fitzwilliam, the second-youngest and still hungry for adventure and the world outside of the Ton, looked at his older brother with high expectations. ‘I do not believe you and Father had been gone this long and did not experience anything worthy of a tale.’ 

You listened on as your siblings bickered, arguing over the value of a story, and its worth of being told and heard. Finally, after listening to it for about a quarter of an hour, you had to agree with Nicholas; it was all rather dull. No wonder neither he nor father did not bother to mention anything but the weather in their correspondence. Their days quickly grew into a pattern one is used to in travel and business. A pattern you might have understood if you cared to pay attention. 

This attention only returned to the room when you heard your name being spoken. The conversation had shifted from the events that had been missed overseas to the town's happenings. Just as dull and irrelevant, some might say, the most interesting thus far was the staff changes at the house, and even these held very little consequence to you, but to this, some may disagree wholeheartedly. 

‘So, the season has begun, has it not, sister?’ Nicholas asked. 

‘Some weeks ago, yes.’ You did your best pretending not to feel an effect from this, occupying yourself with your needlework that was turning out far below the usual standard. ‘But do not worry; you have not missed much. In fact, I think things will finally begin to get a bit interesting with you back home.’ Nicholas had always had a taste for dramatics and had been known for having a very… loving nature. In the past years, you must have witnessed him falling in love at least a dozen times, preparing a proposal to half of these women, going through with it twice now, with one nearly making it to the alter if not for the bride getting caught in quite a compromising position with a footman.

For the next few weeks, Nicholas was known as the heartbroken gentleman, and you would have felt bad for him… if it was not for the fact that women from all over town came around to console him, day after day, of course not knowing that when his bride-to-be had been making arrangements with other men, your brother had been too busy charming ladies himself. It took a month for him to proclaim his love to another woman again.

‘I do not know what you mean,’ Nicholas deflected your comment, quickly looking over to your mother and second oldest brother, Christopher, ‘any fitting suitors I should be aware of?’ As the eldest brother, Nicholas made it his duty to ensure his sisters found good husbands. That meant status and wealth but, above anything else, a good and genteel nature. You remembered how picky he was when Annabelle had been searching for a husband, even more so than your parents. Still, it was something you appreciated about your brother. His protectiveness showed the little heart he still held for you and the rest of your family, as much as he tried to hide it away. 

Your mother bit her cheek, holding in the many thoughts and opinions she must have kept for herself. So did Christopher, who shared a very knowledgeable look of many words with Nicholas, one he understood clearly but you could not decipher just yet. However, you assumed the general message had been sent and received. 

‘If you had seen the choices, brother, you would understand my predicament and situation all too well, believe me.’ Pretending to seem unbothered by the encrypted messages being sent around the room, you preoccupied yourself once more with the needlework. 

‘I believe it is what you believe, sister,’ Nicholas turned back to your mother, ‘do you have a list of names? I shall go through them in the morning, see if it really is as bad as we are being told.’ 

You had wanted to reply, most likely in a dishonourable way, but you held your tongue and fell back in your seat, letting the rest of your family plan out the rest of your life, just like they had always done. 

Unbelievable, Nicholas was home for all of five minutes, and he was already making lists. And knowing him, which you would like to think you did, it was merely a formality for your sake. He would already have a dozen names at the top of his head, ready to send out invitations to men for an audience with you. 

Therefore, you were not surprised when, only a few days later, at the breakfast table, Nicholas told you about all the guests Ridlngton Park would soon be welcoming. 

‘There is Mr Elton, and Mr Brookes will be coming over for tea; I also heard Lord Frankworth is interested in a visit, so is Mr Campbell, and—’ he kept on giving you names, with all of them entering one ear and immediately leaving through your other. You could not care less who wanted to see you, not after spending the last month trying your hardest to escape all of their attempts at promenading, lunching, and chatting of sheer nonsense. 

‘I must ask you to be ready for your first audience before 10; a dress is already prepared in your room.’ Of course, there was a dress. All you could do was smile as you bit into a forkful of egg. 

‘Oh, and there is one gentleman I would particularly like you to meet,’ your father chimed in, almost as if with an afterthought that he recollected at the last minute. You looked up at him apprehensively. ‘I had made a nice acquaintance of his father on our travel. What was his name– Harrolds, no…’  ‘Harrington, father. It was Mr Harrington.’ Nicholas corrected before looking over to you as he shared more. ‘He is a tradesman, quite successful. His only son had joined us on the ship back to England.’ The emphasis on his lineage was made with an apparent inclination. There were no more heirs, meaning the son would inherit the man’s entire wealth. ‘Certainly seems like a reasonable young man, clever too. The two of you will have lots to speak of.’

Well, I certainly cannot wait to meet him,’ you forced out a smile before quickly getting on with your meal despite losing all your appetite. At that moment, your stomach felt like a hollow pit, eating away at you, ironically.

‘You know, if you gave this all a chance, you might find yourself to actually enjoy it in the end,’ your mother commented with a tight lip. 

‘I am sure I shall enjoy it then, as it means that it has all, in fact, ended.’ You sighed deeply, ‘I simply do not understand why this is a must in my life? Why must I marry this instant?’

‘Do not worry, dear. You are still young; you still have plenty of time, ' your father said, missing your point entirely and making you roll your eyes. ‘But your mother is right, too, a more agreeable attitude towards this will make things much easier.’

‘For whom, exactly? Is it for me to enjoy myself, or for everyone else as you will not have to endure me any longer?’

‘Can you really blame us?’ Nicholas mumbled, receiving a kick in the shin in return. He spent the rest of the discussion rubbing the targetted spot on his leg with a pained crease between his brows. You, besides gaining the small victory of maiming your brother, found yourself yet again on the losing side of another family dispute. Like all its predecessors, this battle ended with you pushing back your chair with a harsh scrape of the panelled floor and slugging back to your room where a dress awaited. 

It was beautiful; you could not deny that. Elegant and straightforward, it accented all your finest assets for interested suitors. It was comfortable: not too heavy or too textured in its pattern, it was made of soft material that slipped right on, with the fit of a well-tailored glove. Your hair was pulled up and out of your face, leaving nothing to hide behind. 

‘You look lovely, miss,’ your maid said with a kind smile as she put the final pin in your hair. 

‘Thank you, Claire.’ You muttered, noticing the saddened sympathy enveloping her features as she knew like no other how much you detested everything about what you were about to go through. ‘Have you got any advice? On how to endure it all?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ she shrugged, brushing something off your shoulder. ‘I suppose you could try making them uninterested in you, so they will want to leave sooner.’

‘That thought has crossed my mind,’ you admitted, ‘but I also do not want to put my entire family to shame.’ 

‘Of course, miss.’ Claire nodded. As she finished working on your presentation, you pondered over your possibilities. Indeed, presenting yourself as improper had been your first idea, and its appeal remained, but you were too afraid of the repercussions. If the gentlemen were to think of you as a lady without any manners, all it would do was put your upbringing up for question, something your parents did not deserve whatsoever. 

You also considered spreading gossip about the men coming to introduce themselves, which would scare your mother off them immediately, ensuring they were never to return by your parents’ preference. But it felt cruel to make up such lies. You were sure that in other circumstances, these were perfectly fine men. At this particular moment, you just happened to despise them and everything they stood for.

Perhaps the most appealing option was to simply not attend the audience. To run away and never to return… at least until the afternoon, once all the men had lost all their patience. But that would only cause you more trouble.

The ideas rolled around your head for the rest of the day, even once the suitors sat opposite you in the room. It was all incredibly dull, if not just mortifyingly humiliating, with your mother sitting only across the room, occupying herself with a book, or so it seemed because she most definitely was listening to the conversations attempted on your part.

‘So,’ as most of the dialogues began, the Lord whose name you already forgot spoke, clearing his throat, ‘I hear you read.’

‘Yes, ' you said, blinking to avoid staring too blankly at the wall behind the man, ignoring the balding patch atop his head. 

‘Grand,’ he smiled, somehow satisfied with your response already.

‘Do you… ride?’ you asked, hoping that at the least your mother heard your attempts at making a connection and would release you from this torment soon enough on the principle of your good sportsmanship.

‘No, God no, horses are far too beastly for my liking, unless we are speaking of the track, of course.’ The man scoffed, ‘However, I prefer more dignified activities, such as hunting.’ 

‘Of course, you do,’ you smiled, but the expression never reached your eyes. ‘What about chess? Do you play?’

‘I do not have the patience to commit to such silly games.’

Patience, you thought, or intelligence? And how ironic of him to speak of perseverance. You watched him take another small sandwich from the tea tray provided on a side table, which you were taught to ignore so as not to be observed as “gluttonous”. After all, no one wanted to marry a lady that ate all day. 

Considering that, you grabbed a plate and a piece of cake from the top of the tray and bit into it. The soft sponge melted on your tongue. In the meantime, you were asked a question, but you could not possibly answer with a mouthful of cake, could you? Once you had finished, you considered grabbing a second portion, but you could feel the judgmental look of your mother digging into the back of your head. 

You put the plate back down and your hands on your lap. 

‘I’m sorry, my lord, could you repeat the question, please. I fear I may have lost myself for a moment.’ And so, it continued. Thankfully, the man excused himself not long after, thanking you and your mama for the time, just for his seat to be replaced with someone else almost immediately. This time, the gentleman was significantly younger, with thick hair atop his head and charming eyes, but the second he spoke, you knew this would not reach much further than the comfort of this room. At the least, you did not see this relationship going any further than any of the other acquaintances you had made that day.

By lunchtime, you felt your eyes burning with fatigue, possibly caused by a constant suppression of tears. How much more could you possibly take of this torture?

‘Mr Elton was quite a charmer, was he not?’ Your mother commented as she sipped her tea. 

You suppressed your initial thought, rephrasing it to cause less offence, ‘He is too stubborn and self-centred. He barely let me speak a single word, too occupied by his own achievements to expect me to have any.’ 

‘Well, Lord Frankworth seemed to care very much for what you had to say.’ 

‘Only because he barely managed to string any thoughts together himself,’ you sighed. 

Your mother tightened her grip on the teacup before smiling. ‘Soon enough, we will find you a perfectly fine young man, dear. You just have to remain open-minded.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘Speaking of, your next suitor should be here shortly.’ 

You did everything in your power not to groan at the announcement and instead nodded politely. ‘Who is it?’ 

‘Mr Harrington, the one your father was so keen on you meeting.’

‘Ah,’ yes, the American. The only thing that gave you some slight hope in the situation was that Mr Harrington had already spent plenty of time in the company of your father and brother Nicholas and had seemingly gained their blessing. But nothing could help you gain the energy to entertain yet another man with polite conversation. The sun had been beaming into the room since the early morning, only growing warmer and warmer, making the hairs at the small of your neck stick. 

‘Will you just excuse me for a moment, mother.’ You got up. 

‘Is something wrong?’ She looked suspicious but with a glint of worry in her eye. 

‘I am quite fine, just require some fresh air, I think,’ which was not entirely a lie.

‘Alright then, just make haste, child.’ Mr Harrington was on his way, after all. ‘We do not want to keep the man waiting.’ 

‘Of course not,’ you smiled, heading towards the door. When the large panels closed behind you, you picked up your skirt and ran toward the gardens. Your footsteps echoed through the corridors, and you caught several members of the house staff glancing your way with inquisitive looks. 

Ever since you could remember, the grounds around Ridlington Park had a fantastical power about them. It had been the turf on which you would spend countless childhood summer days playing games with your siblings, whether the competitive or imaginary type. But no matter what the six of you could think of, your favourite game would always remain Hide and Go Seek. The gardens were a perfect place for it, with endless nooks and crannies one could disappear into. It was nearly a giant maze, and you had mastered it from a very young age. Whilst most got lost between the shrubbery and flowers, you knew exactly where you had found yourself. 

There were plenty of hiding spots you enjoyed over the years, some that to this day remain a mystery to the rest of your family, but nonetheless, it was the stables you adored the most. It was a safe haven for you on many days, to the point that you had nearly become invisible to the staff working there. 

The stables were located in the far east corner of the grounds, and the walk towards it already cost more time than you had if you had ever planned on returning that quickly. Undeniably, there was a pinch of shame and guilt nipping at your heart towards the strange Mr Harrington, but that soon dissolved when you heard the neighing of Barley Sugar, a golden-brown mare you proudly called yours. A gift and result of a successful business trade made by your father years ago, the horse technically belonged to all of the Byrnwick children, as much as any of the other horses under the family’s possession, but the bond between you and that particular horse just turned out to be that much stronger. 

This was visible as soon as you entered the stable. Barley Sugar went wild at your presence, happily swinging her head from side to side. 

‘Oh, we can both use an escape, I see,’ you grinned, petting the horse, who leaned into your touch immediately. ‘How about I get you out of here, hmm?’

But your plans were quickly interrupted by a voice. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.’ 

❀❀❀

An average sea voyage from the Americas to England should take approximately 16 days, considering the weather corresponds with the sails of the ship. During this journey, passengers would most likely endure days upon days of heavy and tall waves bashing across the ship’s sides, and that is to be expected in favourable conditions.

As Lord Byrnwick and his eldest had boarded the ship headed to London, the sky had been bright blue, and it did not change far beyond that. There was, of course, a risk for the two of them to sail across the world as they did, them being head of the family and its heir. A journey such as this one can go awry in many ways, and if it were not for the dangers of seafaring, there were the Anglo-American tensions to consider. After all, the previous year's war was still fresh in everyone’s mind, and one could not be careful enough when entertaining both sides. Luckily for the Byrnwicks, they were not of the superstitious kind, and good fortune had always seemed to be in the family’s favour up until the very moment they stepped on the boat to return home, many years beyond that. 

Ever the convivial one, the most considerable success of the trip, according to Lord Byrnwick, was not the business or diplomatic aspects of their ventures but the social. The man immensely enjoyed meeting other like-minded spirits from across the pond, and there had been plenty of fine nights at gentleman’s clubs spent over fine spirits and betting games, discussing all sorts of topics and exchanging information on all subjects. Promises were made to keep in touch whilst arrangements were made for more future meetings. It was only the polite thing to do. 

But aside from acquaintances and business partners, an addition to the household had also been made. Of some sort, that is, for it seemed that the two had found a new groom in America.

Now, Gentle Reader, do not conclude of the worst, as the groom we speak of is not the sort one is meant to meet at an altar but the kind who spends his days tending the horses and carriages. The young man, Mr Munson, had been doing precisely that when the Byrnwick heir stumbled upon his conveyance services in town, in dire need of transport for his regular means, which had already been occupied by his father for the day. It was an encounter by utter chance but certainly one with greater consequences. 

Several days later, coincidentally, a letter from London had arrived. Five pages long, each written by a member of the family recounting their most notable memories of the week. The children spoke of the ton's gossip and anecdotes of what occurred at home. Mother, however, took it upon herself to write of more important matters regarding the household. Many topics had to be discussed, but in the middle of her letter, there was mention of the unfortunate passing of the family’s barn manager, Mr Falstipp. It was an unexpected death, leaving the entire house in shock as the man had been working for the family for longer than the children had been alive. But it also resulted in the question of what was to be done now? 

It was likely only because the interaction had been so fresh in his mind that Nicholas suggested finding a replacement for Mr Falstipp here in America. This was an unusual offer, as his father commented, especially since they would not leave for home until another few days, but that was to be resolved by having the footmen take care of the horses for the time being. Besides, Nicholas was sure his siblings would be more than happy to help with the chores. 

The next day, he returned to the public stables and immediately noted how much cleaner they seemed than any other in town. The horses also looked exceptionally well taken care of and content. 

Mr Munson had just been feeding a colt when Nicholas eagerly announced, ‘Mr Munson, may I offer you a proposition?’ 

This, to no surprise, startled the other man for various reasons. ‘Sir?’ 

‘This must be a peculiar request, but you see, as of recently, my family has found itself in need of a new stablehand and from what I have seen you do, you, sir, would be the perfect candidate.’ Nicholas had the smile of a man losing his sanity, but his words could not be more genuine. 

‘Your family—’ Munson blinked, ‘you mean in London.’

‘Yes, and I understand that this might be a problem, but trust me when I say that you will most certainly find England to your liking, Mr Munson.’

‘Please, call me Eddie.’ 

‘As you wish,’ Nicholas agreed. 

Eddie pondered over the offer for a short moment. It would have taken him no time to decide if it was not for what he was to leave behind, but he knew that his current employer would be able to find his replacement in no time, as jobs in town were hard to come by. 

But what must have been even more challenging to obtain was a ticket out of the wasteland he called home. For years, he had dreamt of an escape, never imagining it to be possible, and suddenly, here comes this stranger offering it to him on a silver platter. 

It would be terrifying to move so far away, he knew that, with many risks, but the further away he could manage to go from where he was now, the better. 

Eventually, after a minute of silence that left Nicholas restless and on the verge of embarrassment, Eddie smiled: ‘It would be my pleasure to work for you, sir.’ And he had meant that wholeheartedly. While it had only been a short few interactions that he had had with the man, the young Mr Byrnwick had already shown Eddie far more kindness than any of his prior employers, or any other man in his life, for a fact. Most importantly, the man knew nothing about Eddie’s past, which must have been the biggest selling point in the life-changing choice. 

‘Marvelous. You will not regret this, Eddie.’ Nicholas leaned in to shake his hand, only to realise that Eddie was still carrying the giant bucket of feed. ‘Well, we shall finalise everything on the boat, shall we?’ And so they did. 

A week later, Eddie found himself still in shock at his circumstances. He could not believe he was really to be leaving for England until the moment he set foot on the boat, and even once the sails had set and the American coast was nothing but a grim line on the horizon, the fact did not seem to settle in his mind just yet. 

Over the next 16 days, he had encountered the Byrnwicks only a handful of times. First, to meet Lord Byrnwick who, as head of the household, wanted a final say on the matter. A bit late, thought  Eddie, as the boat had long departed the harbour by then, but his ticket had already been paid for, and thus, he had little else to complain about. He had quickly made peace with the idea that he could make his new life across the ocean work no matter the circumstances. He had done it before, so what is one more homeless night under a new sky?

But the lord seemed all too happy to have found his staff replacement. Overall, the man was nothing like Eddie had expected a gentleman of English high society to be. From his previous experiences, the type often was rather conceited and arrogant, with a transparent opinion of anyone below their class. His new employer and his son, while undoubtedly lordly, had a modest nature about them. Quickly, Eddie had also gathered that the spontaneity with which Nicholas Byrnwick had called upon him for a job opportunity was not uncharacteristic of him, as the young man was rather energetic in his step and impulsive in his actions. 

But no matter how unassuming the men were, they did belong to a different rank of man and, therefore, stayed on the boat to the upper decks, engaging with the rest of their kind. 

The travel moved on slowly, but in the end, it was also a mere blink of an eye moment, and before he had realised it, Eddie had reached the shores of England. It was another day or two of travel to be done by horse. A carriage had been acquired for Nicholas and his father, but Eddie and the rest of the staff that travelled with the family for their adventure rode on horseback. No matter how much Eddie enjoyed the form of transportation, it was a tiring experience after several hours, but it also allowed him to meet the people he was to work with and, through that, those he would work for. 

‘So, what is the rest of the family like,’ he asked Mr Trowbridge, the lord’s valet. If there was anyone who could tell Eddie something, it would be this man. 

‘Well,’ Mr Trowbridge had a particularly nasal tone about his voice that especially came forward at the beginning of his sentences, ‘I do not believe there is much to tell. They are as any other family, really.’ 

‘My good man, you can hardly expect me to believe there is nothing worth telling about these people,’ Eddie laughed. ‘If it puts your mind at ease, I am only asking for the simplest facts—nothing to interest my fancy.’

The valet pondered over this for a moment. ‘Very well. You have, of course, met the Viscount and his eldest.’ He took a moment for Eddie to respond with a nod in agreement. He then took another moment to consider his following words. The longer he took, the more keen Eddie felt to suggest what to speak of. 

‘What about Lady Byrnwick?’

‘Lady Byrnwick is most amiable and has a very caring character, but you will not find her in the stables often unless she is searching for her children.’

‘Not fond of horses, is she?’

‘Rather the outside—-’ Trowbridge cleared his hair vigorously. ‘In the sense that the sun and pollen often leave her poorly. But the children…’ he punctuated his half-sentence with a heavy sigh. 

‘They are a handful?’ Eddie assumed. To this, Trowbridge searched for another description but found himself lacking the vocabulary, leading to a confirmation. 

‘I have worked for this family for nearly three decades, and I will assure you that each member is as proper a member of society as the next. While boisterous, they have been taught to be independent individuals.’ The valet's tone made Eddie consider how much of their good decorum was in gratitude for the man’s own intervention and guidance. 

‘At 27 years, Nicholas is the eldest, and the responsibilities of this role are one of the few aspects of his life which he takes seriously, I cannot put any doubt behind that.’ Indeed, whilst extremely impetuous, the heir’s son also understood the duties of his position and towards his family. 

‘Then there is Christopher. The boy has immense athletic abilities but not much beyond that. For a young man of his age of five and twenty, one would assume he would be able to compose himself with a bit more propriety, but it is very difficult for him. He is adventurous and rarely can sit still for an extended period of time, including his mouth. It is suggested that people be careful of what they say around the man.

‘The eldest daughter, Annabelle, married just before we had departed for America, thus is now the lady of her own house.’ Something in his tone suggested he was sad to see the young woman leave home. This possibly has to do with the fact that Miss Annabelle (Now known as Duchess Annabelle Ramsbury) was the most dutiful and respectful of the six children. ‘The marriage had been long overdue as she had just turned 22 on the day of the ceremony, but a love match was found nonetheless.’ The valet guffawed with pride. It was clear to Eddie that, while considering them a nuisance, the man cared deeply for the family he served.

‘I must admit, Trowbridge,’ Eddie chuckled in this horse’s trot pattern over the uneven paths. ‘When you began speaking of the family, I had imagined the children to be… well, children.’

‘How old are you, Munson?’ Trowbridge asked, somewhat bluntly. 

‘Twenty, sir.’ Perhaps closer to his next birthday than the last.

‘Ah, just the age of the second daughter then,’ he nodded in agreement. ‘She may perhaps be the most… rebellious of the kin. It is all in good spirit, as you must imagine, and I am sure the interest in such nonsense will dwindle as she matures. She is also the most fond of the family horses; thus, you will see her quite often, I expect. But as her sibling, she has mastered the care for the animals as well as the equipment.’ 

As he spoke of your skills, something about Trowbridge's expression communicated particular dismay to Eddie. ‘Is that bad? For a young woman to know how to carry herself around a horse?’ He, for one, certainly did not see a problem in it. On the contrary, it was an instrumental skill to develop for anyone. 

‘It is not exactly lady-like, is it?’ Trowbridge spoke as if that was the only relevant argument on the matter. Eddie had learned from a very young age that some opinions were better left unsaid, and seeing him as the senior in age and position, Eddie thought it unwise to argue with the valet on his first official day of employment. He instead simply nodded in understanding. Instead, he opted to continue the civil interrogation—

‘What of the youngest two? What are they like?’

‘Fitzwilliam is a dapper fellow. He is but seventeen, but very accomplished, though I cannot say he knows how to put his acquired skills to good use. He has ambitions that cannot be denied; it is just a question of whether these ambitions can ever be met. 

‘And lastly, we have Miss Marjorie. A darling girl, I assure you,’ Trowbridge stated. I can only suggest not letting her size fool you, Munson. She has managed to wrap her family around her little fingers the moment she learned to mumble a word, leaving her to cause quite the ruckus for the past eleven years.’ 

‘I do not see how that involves me, Sir,’ Eddie said. By this time, the sun had begun to set over the fields they passed, and soon, the company would break for their overnight travels at a nearby inn. 

‘It had come to my attention over the years that Mr Falstipp–the previous groom, that is— had been quite lenient on the children and their usage of the horses. This has caused a number of incidents that I would rather not see a repetition of.’

‘Understood.’ 

‘I am unaware of your er– American customs,’ the valet began his lecture, ‘but you must also know that here, ladies are not to ride unaccompanied—something that has been protested in the family to no avail, but it is simply the procedure. There must always be a chaperone nearby to supervise, whether that is a senior member of the family or an entrusted member of the household.’ 

‘I do not expect to have gained that trust just yet,’ Eddie said earnestly.

‘But let us hope you will.’ The smile Trowbridge gave Eddie was kind at first glance, but the movement of his eyes that inspected him told an entirely different story. He knew he still had much to learn about navigating himself around the kinds of people that were the Byrnwicks, even those who worked for them. The moment he set foot on English soil, he knew it would be challenging to fit in if he ever planned to do so. 

The truth is that he did not plan such a change. For you see, Dear Reader, Mr Eddie Munson was also a radical. He did not believe in adapting to society, which was visible in his entire being. One can also imagine the struggle he had to endure when given a uniform to wear. Frankly, the ensemble did not differ much from how the man dressed himself before, but the simple fact that he was told to wear this particular set of clothing upset him severely. 

On the first day after his arrival at Ridlington Park, he had managed to justify himself out of dressing in the required clothing by claiming that the trousers were a smidgen too tight. Without another size available, he was told to wear the clothes on his back until the new, fitted attire arrived.

But the clothes did not even begin to reach the problem of the horses he was meant to care for. 

Turned out, while he had been given all sorts of warnings against the family, what Eddie should have been preparing for was the beasts that homed the stables. The stubborn animals would not let him touch them, and any attempts were met with angry stares and stomping of the hooves. 

‘Easy, there,’ Eddie spoke as softly as he could, taking small steps in any direction that would not enrage the stallion whom he was currently attempting to feed. White Liquorice, a white Arabian, was undoubtedly an animal worthy of a viscount, and from the moment he had stepped into the Ridlington Park stables, Eddie knew that the Kentucky Saddlers and Quarter Horses he grew up with were no match for these and he would quickly have to learn to get on with them if he was to stay here. 

Yes, the first days were hard, but not even one week later, he had gotten used to the rhythm of operations. It helped that, working as the barn manager, he was the one in charge and mostly left alone. Mr Trowbridge had visited him to ensure he was adjusting to the new working conditions, which was kind, but besides that, Eddie rarely saw anyone but footmen requesting the carriage to be prepared for the family. 

That is until one afternoon when he heard the doors open and someone walking inside. He had been around the corner of the stables, cleaning some grooming tools. 

‘Oh, we can both use an escape, I see,’ he heard the intruder speak. It was soft and gentle, most likely referring to one of the horses. Immediately, Eddie was reminded of one of the conversations shared with Lord Byrnwick’s valet. He swiftly got up from his seat and immediately found the culprit. 

He watched you pet one of the horses—Barley Sugar, was it—-petting her in a way he had not yet managed to do confidently. ‘How about I get you out of here, hmm?’ These words triggered him to jump into action. 

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.’ He stepped forward, but his words startled you, causing you to turn around. As you did so, your foot got caught in an old set of bridles Eddie had still planned on detangling and putting away. The surprise coming with the unexpected presence of someone else, combined with the awkward position of your foot, led you to fall over with a shriek. 

Eddie cursed under his breath as he watched you huff on the ground. ‘Let me help you,’ he extended his hand to you, ‘and my apologies, it was not my intent to—’ 

‘Who are you?’ you said in a tone that could only be deemed skittish, if not directly fearful, but not enough to deny his offer to help you stand. Your reaction was validated as you had never met the man standing before you. You eyed him up and down, and the more details you noticed, the more you were sure that you had just stumbled upon a robbery, nay, a kidnapping. 

The man's presentation spoke for itself, truly. His long hair was dark and unkept, well over his shoulders. His clothes were nothing like the workers around your house were meant to dress like, making him stick out like a very sore thumb. The trousers were old and worn, and the shirt was loose over his upper body, revealing—oh god, was that a tattoo?

It was clear this is how you were to die.

‘Are you here to steal my horses?’ you blurted out before you could think. 

‘What?’ He blinked. ‘No, please, listen—’ but you did no such thing. Instead, you did the only thing a lady in distress could do. 

You screamed bloody murder. 

‘Help! Anyone! Help—’  you would have kept on going, shouting over his attempt at reason until he finally shut you up by placing his hand over your mouth, his other hand sturdily over your upper arm. The two of you stood there for a moment, chests both heaving in all forms of panic, listening for footsteps or any other presence, but the only sound was the soft breathing of the animals around you. 

‘I will let go now, miss,’ Eddie said slowly. Both your eyes were wide from the uncultivated situation that had just occurred. ‘And I will explain everything to you, just, please—and I beg you— do not scream.’ You nodded your head beneath his palm in agreement. Eddie counted to three as he stepped back and finally let go of you. Despite him never blocking your airways, you inhaled deeply. 

‘There is absolutely no reason to panic, ma’am.’ His accent was distant, one you had never had the pleasure of hearing before. His eyes, large and dark, locked you in, almost making you lose count of the lingering feeling of his hands on your body. He had given you a moment before he continued speaking, ensuring that you would not resume your screaming or make a run for it.

‘What is your reason of being here?’ You inquired. 

‘I work here. Have been, for the past week. I think it was your brother, in fact, that gave me the position. We met on his travels.’ 

Now, come to think of it, you remembered your family's conversation on the day your father and brother returned. There had been talk of new staff—a young man they had brought along with them from America as an official replacement for the late Mr Falstipp. But that did not explain his attire. 

‘You could be fired for breaking the dress code alone, you know. Not to mention for the, uhm, actions you had just performed.’ You commented.

‘Well, you can always report me, miss.’ Eddie, against all his better judgement, smiled. 

‘Maybe I should.’ Your heart was still pounding, and you felt so disoriented that even a simple smile made your head spin. ‘What is your name?’

‘Eddie.’

‘Well, Mr Eddie—’ you began, just to be quickly interrupted.

‘No, just Eddie.’ Eddie shook his head.

‘What do you mean? Do you have no family name?’ You had heard of men bringing in street urchins to work for them, but surely, this man was too old for such charity. And you could not imagine your brother to perform such acts of kindness anyway.

‘I do.’ His smile only widened in amusement at the conversation. ‘Eddie Munson.’

‘My, is it usual in America to introduce oneself like that?’ Never had you heard of a man introducing himself by only his first name, let alone a byname. 

‘It is usual to me,’ he quipped, ‘And it is more common than not introducing yourself at all.’ The way in which he looked up at you from under his lashes felt accusatory, but you could not find it within you to be upset at the critique, so you gave him your name instead. 

‘Pleasure to meet you, Miss Byrnwick.’ He gave you a small, polite bow that reminded you more of how children play Lord and Lady rather than a gentlemanly act. Next thing you knew, a smile was pulling at the corner of your lips, and a small giggle was ready to escape. 

For some reason, you hesitated to say your following words: ‘It is a pleasure, Mr Munson.’

‘Please, call me Eddie.’ While always respecting the titles of others, Eddie never saw himself as one to follow such formalities. 

‘That is most improper.’ You held back the urge to scoff. 

‘But I insist.’ There was something in the corner of his eye that you managed to catch a glimpse of—this spark that no sunlight or fire could match. It was pure mischief, a spirit of chaos. But still, to call a man you barely knew by his first name was simply not right. Your family may jest as they please about your rebelling attitude to primitive customs, but you had to admit that some things ought to be done in a proper manner. And this was certainly not it. 

However, Mr Munson saw it in another light but did not find enough of an interest in the subject enough to argue it further. Rather, he cleared his throat briefly and observed you for a moment. 

How silly you must look in your fancy dress! Your hair was done up to match, and your shoes were most likely covered in mud. There was also no doubt that he had overheard you talking to your horse about running away. You had good faith that he could connect the pieces to form the complete picture. 

A bird flew past a window, making you glance past Eddie’s shoulder in haste. 

‘I hope I am not keeping you from any other plans, miss?’ He finally asked. Could you be so bold as to admit that he was saving you from other commitments by conversing with you?

‘No, of course, not Mr Munson,’ you persisted. ‘I am simply cautious.’ Come to think of it, your screams must have been heard all around the grounds. If those who heard, in turn, had an ounce of common sense amongst them, they would have called for someone in the house. If that was the case, your mother would be here momentarily, and then it was back to the house for you. All you could do now was hide. 

‘May I ask what are you being cautious of?’ Eddie followed you with his eyes as you walked through the stables, looking for a hiding spot. 

‘If you must know, I am currently on the run,’ you stated while looking over a haystack in the far corner. 

‘Ah, so whilst you had accused me of being a criminal, it was you who had been committing the crimes then? Should I now scream for help?’

‘I’d rather you didn’t, ' you said, attempting to climb the hay to get past it. ‘I have already brought much too much attention to myself.’ Your foot slipped, making you tumble back down to the ground. The accident made you stop for a moment before attempting to climb again, looking over your shoulder at the man. ‘Are you not going to even try and stop me?’ 

‘Oh,’ it was as if he had awakened from a deep thought or had just realised that what you suggested was exactly what he ought to do. ‘Well, would you listen if I told you not to climb up there?’ 

You pondered his question for a short moment. ‘No, I highly doubt it.’ Thus, you resumed your climbing. As you did, you heard the shuffling of his feet behind you. The next time you slipped up, this time from a far higher distance, he had been in precisely the right place to catch you in his arms. 

‘I cannot assure you I will be able to catch you once more, so it is in good conscience that I suggest you stop, ma’am,’ he said as you got back to your feet. 

‘You are right,’ you admitted. Then you realised just how close the two of you stood and quickly occupied yourself by looking for another hiding place. That is when you noticed it. You had spent years in this stable and knew every inch of the space, yet… ‘Have you moved things around?’ You looked back at Eddie. 

‘Only a little. I’m afraid my predecessor did not have a flair for organisation,’ he explained.

‘That may be so, but I would prefer you would put things back as they were.’ 

‘Excuse me?’ Eddie could not help but laugh at the demand.

‘Your new floor plan has completely disoriented me, ' you admitted. ‘It is unbecoming.’

‘My apologies. I will be sure to put things back as they were, then.’ His laugh still echoed his words.

You had not expected him to actually agree to this request. ‘You will?’ But quickly, you regained your composure and tried to hide the surprise in your voice. ‘Very well, thank you. Then, since you have discarded all of my possible hiding locations, what do you suggest I should do?’ 

‘I suggest you run.’ But it was not Eddie who had answered you. 

‘Mother, ' you gasped. What was it, in God’s good name, with everyone sneaking up on you today? Lady Byrnwick stood at the threshold of the stables with her arms crossed. Her lips tightened into a thin line as she took a step inside. You prepared yourself for a disciplinary outburst, but instead, your mother focused on the man standing next to you. 

‘You must be Mr Munson.’ The kindness in her voice was laughable. The overcompensation of her kindness threw both you and Eddie off. 

‘Yes, Ma’am.’ You noticed that he bowed his head in a much more orderly fashion than he had done to you. 

‘I hope my daughter has not been too much of a nuisance.’ 

‘Not at all.’ Eddie politely replied. 

‘Good, good. Well, I can already see that my son did a good job in finding you,’ she stated as she looked around the retouched interior. ‘And I hope that you will grow to enjoy England.’

‘I’ve had nothing to complain of yet.’ Eddie proudly said with that smile of his, and for a moment, you thought to have caught his eyes on you for just a second. Your mother nodded along with his words in satisfaction, but this cheeriness dissipated as soon as she directed herself to you. 

‘Has your headache cleared, dear?’ Her eyes were spitting fire. 

‘Yes, mother.’ 

‘Then we will be on our way.’ She stepped aside, giving you room to walk outside. ‘Goodbye, Mr Munson.’ Eddie had become the unintentional victim of the venom that perferred your mother's words. 

He was polite enough to look away as you made your shameful walk through the aisle between the horses’ stalls, but you couldn’t help but look behind you one final time as you left and catch his favourable grin. What a peculiar man he was, indeed—one whose presence you immediately began to miss. 

Perhaps that was because of the company you were in at the time. 

‘Have you gone completely mad?’ Your mother scowled. ‘Mr Harrington has been waiting for well over half an hour.’

‘He is still here?’ You stopped in your tracks. This day could not have gone any worse. It seemed like everything you had been doing was working in your favour.

‘Yes, so you better come up with a clever excuse for your tardiness as I will not be embarrassed any longer. I swear, have you no shame?’

‘I am truly sorry mother, I had lost track of the time.’

‘Doing what exactly? What were you doing in the stables, exactly? Considering you had told me you were going out for some fresh air.’ Yes, the air around the horses was not exactly to be called “fresh.” 

Unfortunately, you had no satisfying answer to any of your mother’s questions. Come to it, you yourself were unsure what exactly had brought you there in the first place, not to mention what made you stay. It must have been a sense of child-like naivete to think you could hide from your problems the way you attempted. 

Problems that were coming closer as Mr Harrington walked towards you through the aisle of hyacinths that grew all around you in various colours. 

‘What is he doing here?’ you mumbled towards your mother.

‘Considering the lovely weather, I had offered for us to sit out in the gardens.’ Your mother spoke out loud. That is when you noticed the set table and chairs under a large parasol on the patio. 

‘I hope you do not mind. I took the initiative of taking a stroll in your absence.’ Mr Harrington spoke in a cadence that would have been new to you if not for the fact that you had spent the last hour in the presence of a very similar tone. 

‘Of course, not,’ your mother had regained her ability to smile. ‘May I introduce my daughter.’ And so she did. 

‘I am sorry to have kept you waiting, sir. I completely lost track of time.’ You apologised and were ready to offer your hand to Mr Harrington when you noticed how filthy your gloves had become. In a panic, you pushed both your hands behind your back, trying to distract the man with a wide grin.

‘The important thing is that we are all here now,’ he manoeuvred, which you could not help but agree with, then led you to the patio. 

The next hour went by faster than you had ever imagined it would. Mr Steve Harrington turned out to be not only a great conversationalist but a rather fascinating one at that. It was only a fault of your own that you were distracted for a larger part of the conversation. There was simply something about the man’s brown eyes that constantly reminded you of somewhere else. He was very charming and, abiding by your brother’s promises, had a great, though perhaps somewhat awkward, wit. It seemed that his confidence, once clearly overt, had been lowered, causing him to stumble over his words at times and laugh at his own mistakes in a deprecating manner, but never enough to make it a bother in your eyes. Truly, it was all rather endearing.

But you could not, for the life of you, figure out what exactly caused these fumblings in his character, as nothing seemed to be particularly wrong with the man. Though you did not see him as an academic or scholar of any sort, from the way he spoke, you could tell he was one of the more clever men you had the fortune of meeting. And his looks were certainly no topic of discussion either. He was tall and lean, with a wonderful smile and soft brown hair that apparently was more common than imagined, as were those dark eyes and the way he held you in his arms—

You took a sip of the cold water as Mr Harrington expressed his gratitude to your mother for the audience and made sure the message would be conveyed to Lord Byrnwick, too. You nodded and smiled along. Even when he bid you farewell and bowed his head, your mind was elsewhere. As if expecting something to emerge from behind the hyacinths, you could not help but glance in the Eastern direction of the gardens. 

‘See, it was not all that bad, was it?’ your mother immediately said, pulling you back to the patio. By then, Mr Harrington had excused himself and was crossing the patio to the exit from the grounds but had turned briefly for a final goodbye, which you met with a polite wave. 

‘No, I suppose you are right, mother.’ You had persevered against all odds. As you watched the gentleman leave, you felt quite content with the meeting—happy, some would even say. The only problem was that you could not make quite clear what, or rather, who brought on this particular mood.

Chapter 2

Thank you so much for reading!! I really do hope you enjoyed this chapter. Remember the best way to support writers is to reblog and share. I love to hear what people think of my stories so feel free to leave a comment or an ask or message.

[0mysteiarchives]

"Without a trace."

• Firefly , Aventurine , Misha , Robin

A/N: Felt quirky soo... reader dying alone arc

Warnings: reader actually dying like fr and angst ?? idk.. also ooc or something... i'll just put it in case

Well..! So you were caught by death at an unexpected moment, but..

Not a single person in Penacony knew you were gone?

-

Your body feeling heavy and your vision becoming blurry, you held tightly onto the last string of consciousness you had left, thinking about the person you cared the most..

Firefly had offered to take you around the plaza to play different games, try different pastries, watch the beautiful scenery from her secret hideout until by each other's side like a little 'date'..

Oh, how she eagerly waits for you as people come and go by her with the happy feelings she hopes to share with you, not even knowing you're gone.

Adventurine had made a bet with you, and the loser of the game has to take the other to an expensive, and luxurious restaurant. He joked that it would be a romantic moment between the two of you and watched as you brushed him off and accepted the deal.

Oh, how disappointed he felt when he never received a single message, thinking that you had backed out without telling him as he walked away from your meeting spot, unaware that you're even gone.

Misha had accepted your offer of helping around the Reverie out of sympathy, you watched as his expression turned from a confused to a happy, and appreciative one. He felt grateful that you would keep him company and have time to catch up.

Oh, how deeply sad he felt as he never saw you walk through the hotel entrance, thinking you had abandoned your promise. He'd overthink that you were gone.

Robin had given you a free ticket to her next concert, giving you a sweet smile and telling you to keep it a secret from her fans, to which you gave into and accepted the invitation. She gave you a hug before parting ways to get ready and make herself presentable mostly for you.

Oh, how hurt she felt when she was unable to find you within the crowd, quickly scurrying down after her performance to ask her fans, her staff members, and even her brother for your whereabouts. How heartbroken she'd be to find out you were gone.

And oh, how you wished that you could have seen them for one last time with tears in your eyes, as you apologize that you two may not meet ever again.

-

Literally chilling in my chair w food and water casually writing random angst I thought would be cool rn

[aureum-cordis]

Lost & Found, Part 4

A/N: Hey! It’s been a short while since my last update, college got a little hectic for me. But I’ve gotta admit, this has been my favorite part to write so far. I really have to thank everyone for checking out this little fic and I appreciate all of the reblogs and follows, as well as the notes! Thank you all so much! Check out the other parts here: Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

_________________________________________________

You were more than content to have an audience as you drew an amalgamation of little doodles on the page you were provided. CraftyCorn was offering you any crayon, marker, or pencil you even vaguely gestured to while Bobby BearHug rested her head on DogDay’s shoulder.

The dog was unbothered by this, especially since this was the happiest he had seen the other two in what felt like years. He was grateful for this little moment of peace, even if some nagging thought attempted to plague his mind with negativity. It wasn’t as if he would ignore the thought that this could be stripped away just as quickly as it came, but he refused to feed into it.

Even he was surprised by the way he felt fiercely protective over you and the others, not that it was a negative form of surprise at all. You, and that precious little smile on your face as you lifted the page to show the trio of Smiling Critters that you had drawn them, had caused the little amount of hope in his heart to flourish. If you had survived then it was possible that they all could, that this situation wasn’t impossible to walk away from.

He wrapped his arm around the bear that rested her head on his shoulder in a side hug of sorts, allowing his own head to gently press against hers. The two watched as you gestured for CraftyCorn to join you, to which they happily accepted.

You still sat cross-legged on the ground but the unicorn laid on her stomach to join you, taking a crayon between their hooves and helping you in drawing the scenery of your little drawing of the Smiling Critters as well as yourself.

DogDay and Bobby BearHug watched you and the unicorn as you both drew an adorable image of the strange yet endearing quartet they had formed through chance. You and CraftyCorn were passing crayons and markers of various colors between each other, a wordless understanding between the two of you.

The leader of what remained of the Smiling Critters was more than content to just rest against the bear of the group as he watched you enjoy yourself, even if your hands were now covered in various colors from your composition.

You were far from deterred nor were you upset from such a thing, even going as far as admiring the smear of vibrant colors that covered your palms and fingers.

It was something so small yet noticeable that the dog and the bear couldn’t help but laugh softly at the little display, even more so as CraftyCorn lifted her hooves to show you that their luck with the crafts wasn’t all that orderly either.

The unicorn muttered her praises, admiring the way you drew each of them as well as the background they had been helping you design. You shook your head, pointing at yourself and then the Smiling Critter that had joined you.

She paused for a moment, watching your gesture before it finally clicked what you had meant. “Oh, I didn’t contribute much, this was all you. I could never take credit for it.” They replied in an amused yet genuine tone, it wasn’t fair when you had done the majority of the artwork.

You shook your head again, more enthusiastic this time and bent down to point at the paper. One of your small fingers rested on the drawn unicorn on the page, before you pointed at the real one in front of you. CraftyCorn raised her hooves in a manner that bordered on compliant, yielding their stance on rejecting any credit.

The white furred member of the Smiling Critters shifted from the prone position they were in to a seated one as she spoke. “While I still think I didn’t do much, I appreciate that you let me join you. Together, we created something that easily beats anything I have ever drawn alone.” You were positively beaming as you heard the final agreement that left the artist of the quartet.

Slowly, you moved the papers and the art supplies out of the way as you stood up. CraftyCorn was about to speak when you suddenly wrapped your arms around her torso and squeezed her in a warm embrace.

The unicorn was stunned, unsure of what to do at that moment, and turned to look at DogDay and Bobby BearHug. The dog was about to speak when the bear at his side hugged him in an instant, whispering as she did so. “Hug them!” It was a hushed shout in anything but you seemed unphased, nuzzling into the soft fur that was the unicorn’s chest as they gently wrapped their arms around you in return.

The touch was featherlight, as if you would break should any force be applied. Regardless, you were more than happy to be held even if it was by an incredibly careful unicorn.

A tired yawn left your mouth, the sound still audible despite the fact that you hadn’t, or perhaps were unable, to speak a word. With a balled up first, you rubbed one of your eyes which grew teary from the drowsiness that overcame you.

DogDay knew that you would crash soon when he had found you, the bags under your eyes were more than a sign of the sleep deprivation you suffered from. CraftyCorn allowed her arms to fall to her sides as you broke the hug and backed up slightly. Still rubbing your eyes, you turned to look at the duo that were still close together.

Bobby BearHug hadn’t let go of DogDay since she had first hugged him and he was content enough to not stop her. He didn’t have the heart to do so, not when she had been so distant until you came along, and because he didn’t mind the contact. With a slow and sluggish gait, you walked over to the two of them.

The orange dog was a little puzzled as you approached, extending the arm that he didn’t have around the bear at his side to you. You grabbed his arm and used it to steady your wobbly steps before you promptly sat yourself down in his lap. The suddenness of your action caused some of the wind to be knocked from him, but not a word of protest left his mouth.

He watched as you curled up in his lap and gently pulled the arm you had been holding onto earlier closer to you. He was more than willing to allow you to do such a thing and if he were able to cry in that moment, he would’ve. You wrapped your little arms around his as his hand rested against your back, supporting you to keep you from falling should you stir in your sleep.

A tired smile rested on your face as you looked up at him, before nestling up against his leg and closing your eyes. Together, all three of the Smiling Critters watched as your little chest rose and fell, falling entirely silent to keep from disturbing you as you rested. Collectively, they could all see how exhausted you were, which was exactly why they were more than willing to let you sleep.

For several long moments, they all remained where they were, simply observing you as you clung to the leader’s arm as if they would vanish if you let go. Carefully, CraftyCorn slowly approached the trio and sat down on the side of DogDay that was unoccupied.

There, she rested their chin on his shoulder and looked down at you, nothing but sympathy and a warmth that would soothe anyone in her gaze. They shifted slightly, resting against the dog with her body to be closer to him and you. He was more than pleased with the action, a happiness that he hadn’t felt in a very long time came to the surface, warming his heart and bringing with it an unbridled sense of joy.

You had brought forth a side to himself and the others that he feared was long gone, yet in this very moment it returned. It wasn’t until he heard a steady and rythmic thumping against the ground did he realize what was happening. His tail was the cause of the sound, wagging openly as a display of his happiness and how overjoyed he was that the others had finally been able to find a beacon of hope in this otherwise grim situation.

None of those around him stirred at the disruption nor did they seem bothered by it in the slightest. DogDay himself was embarrassed by the physical reaction that displayed his elation, but it faded as Bobby BearHug continued to embrace him and CraftyCorn’s head now rested on his shoulder and their sides pressed against one another. They were just as content as he was and that only made the thumping of his tail increase in pace.

The only sounds that filled the room were the quiet inhales and exhales of your sleeping form and the sound of the orange dog’s tail as it met the floor as those most important to him were surrounding him. Despite the fact that they had all met you today, they all shared the same sentiment as their leader did. You were now a very dear member of what remained of the Smiling Critters.

[stariekis]

"this reminded me of you"

🛋️ pairing : 엔하이픈 ot7 + gn!reader . genre : fluff . cw : kisses and jungwon part can be kinda suggestive (?) but nothing more .

— synopsis : how they would react if you told them that something reminds you of them.

— notes : this kind of thing makes me the happiest girl ever and i know they would love that too ) : my babies .. n e waysss hope you guys enjoy it ⭐ all kinds of feedback and repost are appreciated as always, sending you the biggest kiss ever ! ~

heeseung :

you went shopping with some of your friends for the evening and, when you came back home, he saw a bag hiding behind your back — 'what's that babe? can i see?' your eyes were full of speciation as you gave him the paper bag, he opened it and found a little toy story figure inside. he laughed but not in a this-is-ridiculous way he actually loved it so much that as soon as he took it out of the bag he runs to your bedroom and place the little figure beside the other ones he already had. — 'i had to buy it, i knew you would love it' you said, standing behind him. he turned around and hugged you thanking you for the present.

jay :

he is not a materialistic type of guy, he loves buying you presents but hates when you spend money on him. this being said, i think he would prefer if you told him that you saw something that reminds you of him. for example, you know how much jay loves guitars and one day on your way home you came across a instrument shop that recently opened. when you came home you told him right away — 'i thought of you as soon as i saw it, i want to take you there' you said, clinging to one of his arms and shaking it softly. he had the biggest smiles plastered on his face, not only because you thought about him but because you seems more excited than him about going there even though you aren't very interested.

jake :

one of your friends told you some time ago about a new coffee shop that just opened near your house, they have tons of puppies there that you can pet while you enjoy a cup of something. as soon as your friend said the word puppies you knew that you have to take your boyfriend there. him being the number one fan of dogs would be very happy to be there, and you weren't wrong. you didn't told him where you guys were going but as soon as he discovered it he became the happiest men alive, hugging you so tight that you felt out of breath even — 'i love you so so much i know i say it a lot but i love you babe really' he said, still hugging your waist. both of you spend the whole evening there, taking pictures of each other and playing with the little puppies. apparently taking him there was an amazing idea.

sunghoon :

you wanted to give him a special present for his birthday. he spent the last two weeks talking about a specific camera that he have been wanting to get but didn't have time to actually get it, he seems pretty upset about so you took matters into your hands and when to the store to buy it for him. the day of his birthday you woke him up, breakfast all served and a small box next to it. — 'open the present first then we can eat' you said while he sits on the chair, you were standing right next to him. when he unwrapped the present he looked at you with shocked eyes — 'you like it ? i remember how much you wanted and i got it for you' he stands up taking you on his arms and spinning you around whispering thank yous in your ear. — 'i need an album to fill it with pictures of you now'.

sunoo :

he is always posting pics of different sunsets and night skies on weverse so i know for a fact that he would love to recibe a picture that you took of a pretty sunset and a 'it remind me of you' message following right after. he would be giggling and kicking his feets in his room, thinking that such a pretty scenery reminds you of him makes him all giddy inside. he would answer you with something like 'it's so pretty my love but you are even prettier'. he promised you that next time he would take you to his favorite spot so both of you could watch the sunset together and take pictures of it.

jungwon :

— 'where are we going ? are you kidnapping me or what ?' you laugh at his comment. jungwon loves to spend time far away from the city, he loves nature and the loneliness of the forest so you thought that renting a wooden cottage for the both of you would be an amazing plan. you blindfolded him before getting in the car because you wanted to surprise him, that's why he was making those comments earlier. — 'shut up, we are almost there silly '. once you both were in front of the door you took the fabric that covered his eyes out, his jaw falling as soon as he realized where you guys where. — 'baby this is crazy i don't know what to say' you laugh at his expression as you opened the door. — 'and is all ours' you said, turning to him and taking one of the strings of his hoodie pulling him inside. a slight smirk adoring his face.

ni-ki :

you were in japan visiting his family. you both had one day to spend together, he wanted to show you around without his sisters around taking you away from him all the time. as you both walked down the streets you saw a shop that's sells vintage clothes, and those where ni-ki's favorite type of clothes. he always says that old clothes are the coolest so as soon as you saw that small shop you took your boyfriend's hand in yours and pulled him towards the entrance. — 'i didn't know this shop was here' he said after entering, turning to you — 'i knew you would like it, go on look around a bit you might find something you like' he took your face in his hands and close the gap between you, kissing you softly and mouthing a soft thank you after. you spend approximately two hours inside that small shop, ni-ki choosing different outfits for you and also trying some clothes for him.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Great Expectations 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Professor Holmes' class is your most difficult, but he's about to make it even more challenging.

Characters: Sherlock Holmes (modern AU)

Note: It was a drabble then it weren't.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You're not certain. Not at first. But when are you ever confident in anything?

Yet you're assured by the dark curls and vibrant eyes, the slanted brows never devoid of judgment. More than anything, it's his posture that confirms his identity. Professor Holmes is staunch and indomitable even as he browses shelves of antique style pens; crystal, wood, and brass. He considers each as he would every word of a term paper. 

You're doubt turns to what to do next. Do you say hello? Or pretend you don't see him? Would he know either way? You're fairly convinced he can't pick you out of the lecture hall. 

So you do what you do best and fade into the scenery. You trail along the shelves and dip around the other side, putting your attention to the spools of thread, organized in a perfect spectrum of hues. As you mindlessly touch the thread, your mind wanders back around the row.

You would never expect to see the professor there, though honestly, you've never thought of him outside the classroom. You avoid that as much as you can, you stress enough over his unattainable standards. His is the only class which has you below an A. 

You contemplate the silver twine. You've been looking for the very thing and yet the price is much above your budget. All that for some shine? 

You move on, turning around to the balls of wool and needles arranged from thinnest to thickest. Your ears are pricked by the familiar timbre. The professor's voice carries as easily as in the lecture hall. You try not to listen but you can't help the instinctive decipher of each syllable. 

"Are these genuine silver?" He asks, presumably of a passing associate.  

"Um, I'm not sure, sir," the squeaky adolescent reply is met with an impatient sigh. "I work in the back." 

"Work in the back doing what? Sorting stock? Do you not know what you put on the shelves?" Professor Holmes' disapproval is unmistakable.  

His tone make you want to run. It is the same detest wrought into the feedback scribbled in the margins of your assignments. If it isn't perfect, it's not acceptable. 

You should go. You don't have the money to waste on hobbies you don't have time for. Nor do you relish an encounter with the very man responsible for your lack of free time. 

You make sure to walk toward the far end of the aisle and avoid any possible sighting. The very thing you meant to distract yourself chases you from your procrastination. Two days before your paper is due, and you've not even touched the readings due for that week's class discussion. 

📕

You’re barely awake as you claim a seat in the melancholic lecture hall. The coeds are silent, only yawning between slurping from paper cups, or slumping dangerously over the narrow armrests. There’s a dour commiseration in the air; a sort of resignation. 

Papers are handed in and yet the outcome is almost assured; Professor Holmes will surely find at least a dozen reasons to dock marks. Sometimes it seems even the font can draw his ire. Yet, there is more to be done. He will expect a lively discussion before that three-hour block is done and if he doesn’t get it, you will all sweat for it. 

You flutter through your notebook. Unlike your other courses, the paper is crinkled and the writing is erratic. Each week sees you with at least another twenty pages added to the reading list. You don’t understand how anyone can keep up with it all; the work alone is as much as all your other classes combined. 

You jump in your seat as his even-keeled voice rolls through the air. He hardly has to project as his baritone fills the large room. You look up and fumble for your pen. Professor Holmes doesn’t permit devices. The last person caught merely looking at their phone was dropped from the course. 

You chew the end of the pen as he begins his introduction, but not without a sharp remark about your midterm papers. It’s as if he’s already made up his mind that you’ve all failed. There’s no bell curve in this class, just an impossible mountain. 

“To make it simple,” his accent lilts off his tongue, “I’ve decided we will do things a bit differently this week. I will have you sort yourself into groups and each will discuss an assigned article. At the end, we will reconvene and you will nominate a member to present your conclusions. You may use our usual guiding questions for these purposes.” 

You nod and furrow your brow thoughtfully. The idea of splitting into groups is daunting on its own. It’s one thing to put your hand up amid the wide sea of your peers but it’s another to parse yourself down into a smaller group amid strangers. Despite weeks of sitting side-by-side, you don’t really know anyone. They all seemed to have made friends before that and made no effort to find any more. 

“Well, off you go,” Holmes flicks his fingers, “you’ve two minutes to arrange yourselves. I’m no kindergarten teacher, certainly you can figure it out.” 

There’s a low murmur then a lull before anyone moves. You hear the chatter that connects the smaller pairings to each other; aren’t you in my econ class? Oh, you were at the Delta party? You gather your notebook and stand, searching for an in. 

“Um,” you approach the nearest cluster of bodies, “room for one more?” 

It’s as if you’re invisible. You wince and clear your throat. Before you can try again, a deeper ahem comes from behind you. You crane to see over your shoulder. Professor Holmes stands at the end of the row, one brow arched as he crosses his arms. His old-fashioned vest strains as his chest bulges against the buttons. 

“Eh, she’s in need of a group. Have some manners.” 

You’re surprised by his intervention, but grateful. You try to smile but it’s probably more of a pathetic simper, “thank you, professor.” You nod and turn back to the other students. 

“Uh, sorry, yeah, can I tag along?” You ask. 

They shrug, none of them daring to ignore Professor Holmes. You sit at the edge of the group, heat speckling up your back in embarrassment. The others as good as ignore you as they go back to complaining about their papers. 

“I didn’t sleep,” a blond you think is named Ethan mutters, “fucker had me tearing out my hair.” 

“Yeah, I was supposed to go to a Barbie party but I need this class,” a pretty redhead rolls her eyes. 

There’s at least ten other students circled between three rows. You glance around at the others as they bow and chatter in kind. You shuffle your notebook in your lap and lean in, trying to seem involved. 

“Right then, you,” Holmes points to your group, “take Jones et al,” he moves his finger towards the next group, “Halloway,” he continues down the list of readings as silence pervades the space.  

It isn’t until he bids you to start that anyone dares speak again. The professor paces at the front of the room, hands in his pockets, as his longs stride take him from one end to the other. As you watch him, he seems to sense it, and his blue eyes meet your own. He hardly reacts before he puts his attention back to his repetitive route. 

“Alright, so Jones et al,” you redirect your attention as your peers continue their griping over lost sleep and shitty coffee. “So uh, we should go over main arguments first--” 

“Didn’t read it,” Ethan scoffs and two girls giggle. 

“I don’t know how that tight ass thinks we have all day for the stuffy bullshit,” another guy snorts. “Some of us get laid.” 

You blanch and chew your lip. You look around and receive only agitation and indifference. 

“Since you’re such a smarty pants, why don’t you do the presentation, huh?” The redhead chirps, “you always have so much to say.” 

You frown. You only put in what you need to get a decent mark. You’re hoping the discussion grade can save you from your disastrous first assignment. Besides, aren’t you all facing the same foe? Shouldn’t you be allies? 

“Well, we should talk about the article a bit. Did anyone else read it?” You insist. 

You don’t get an answer, only scoffs and sneers. Shoot. You look down at your notebook and shrink into yourself. It’s just like high school. You’re the one building the diorama by yourself until midnight. You’re the one doing all the talking in the class debate. 

You scribble notes in the margins as the other garble on about some party and the new cafe opening up at the Student Centre. You keep a hand on your neck as the heat builds under your skin. You should’ve just stayed on your own, not that you have much of a choice. None of them even want to acknowledge you. 

Professor Holmes calls time and you pop your head up, catching your glasses before they can bounce off your nose. You fix them as the lecture hall hushes and you all twist and turn to see the professor. He walks up the centre aisle and points to the group in the very back. 

“You, come on,” he demands. 

There’s crinkling of paper and scratchy coughs. A guy in a polo sweater stands with a cluster of lined paper in hand. He reads out with fractured syllables as if he can’t make out the writing. Professor Holmes sighs and you glance over at his scowl. He’s not impressed. 

“Right, and beyond the obvious, what were your final reflections? Did you have a single thought about the author’s narrative on the consequences of the railway on colonized communities?” He pauses and waits, tapping his clefted chin. Silence. “Mm, absolutely compelling,” he remarks dryly. 

You gulp as your group fidgets. Holmes jabs a finger at another group, calling out a student by name, “thank you for volunteering.” 

The woman with the buzzcut stands, looking nervous as she peers around her group members. She sways and wets her lips, playing with the ring around her lower lip. She laughs nervously before she begins, pausing and umming and ahhing. 

“Enough rambling,” Holmes shakes his head and turns toward your group. Your eyes go wide as the rest peek over at you. You rise as the professor stands just at the end of the rows. “Ethan, you seemed to be doing most of the talking, let’s hear it.” 

Ethan grimaces and sends you a look. He shakes his head. You shrug. You don’t know what to do. You offer your notebook and Holmes clucks. 

“I’m sure he can do it himself, he’s a big boy,” Holmes insists, “let’s hear your take on Jones et al. They have some rather interesting arguments about the cultural significance of the Silk Road, did they not?” 

Ethan exhales and stands, a tick in his jaw as he faces the professor. You chew your cheek as he stutters, “well, what we were talking about was that... er, the Silk Road... um...” 

“Yes, yes, you made some rather intriguing arguments about the Gammas, didn’t you? And how you have so many important things to do, eh? Well, Ethan, if you can’t keep up, you don’t have to bluster,” Holmes reproaches, “your boasting does suggest incompetence over importance.” 

Ethan chokes. There’s a low titter of laughter from further back as the rest of your group stares at their hands. You hug your note book and lower your head as well. 

“Come on, then,” Holmes wags his fingers and calls your name, “stand up. Let’s hear something coherent.” 

“Oh, uh,” you lift your chin as Ethan falls into his chair with a snarl. You get up and focus on your notebook. You swallow tightly before you get your vision to clear, “typically when we think of the, er, Silk Road, er, we fixate on, uh, on uh, on the movement of goods such as dyes and, and, and rice...” you can’t help your stuttering. You just know the professor will have your throat next, “but Jones et all argue that, ummmm, um, the movement of peoples and contact between various cultures is just as... as important--” 

“Ah, yes, someone has done their work,” Holmes proclaims with a clap. 

“All of you. One thousand words on your groups assigned article by the end of the week. You may drop them off at my office.” 

“What?” Several students burst out in shock. 

“It is an individual effort, yes? Not a group project. You have until Friday at 6pm.” 

“Professor,” a woman whines from the back. 

“Would you like a thousand more words?” He turns to face the lecture hall completely, ��no, alright then. I can be generous. You may go early so that you can catch up on your readings.” 

He smirks and tilts his head smugly. He spins on his heel and strides down the low steps to the front podium. You glance down at your notebook and slowly flip the cover. 

“Fucking browner,” Ethan growls. 

[oskea93]

Kansas Anymore (1)

Tyler Owens x OC

Summary: In which Riley Owens, the ex-wife of the infamous Tornado Wrangler, has 36 hours to come to terms if moving to a whole new country with their small daughter is something she truly wants to do.

Warnings: Cursing, angst, suggested smut, fluff.

If you would like to be tagged, just drop a comment ❤️

“Darling, I don’t understand why he’s making you come to him when he’s perfectly capable of flying out to see her. Is he afraid he’s going to miss a gust of wind and all his little cronies on the internet will stop following his every move?” My mother’s frustration was palpable, her voice cutting through the hum of the car engine.

I stayed silent, the roar of the car on the two-lane road answering in my place. My mother’s loud sigh sounded through the speakers; a noise filled with years of pent-up exasperation. “I’ve never seen a man so self-centered as that one – going around chasing tornados like some kind of deranged jackass.”

An innocent chuckle sounded from the seat behind me. I glanced in the rearview mirror to see Caroline’s little hands folded in front of her face, her bright eyes staring out the window at the passing scenery. The sight of her brought a small smile to my lips, even as my mother’s words lingered in the air.

“Mom, it’s just how he is,” I finally said, my voice tinged with resignation. “Tyler’s always been about the thrill, the excitement. He’s never been one for settling down or thinking about anyone else’s needs.”

“And yet, here you are, always the one making the effort,” she replied, her tone softening slightly. “It’s just not fair to you or to Caroline. She deserves to have her father in her life, not just in fleeting moments when it suits him.”

I leaned my head into the headrest, feeling the weight of the conversation starting to drain me. “Yeah, well, that’s the way we decided, and it’s worked so far,” I replied, my voice lacking its usual conviction.

Mom’s response was immediate, her concern piercing through the speakers. “Well, are you going to tell him that this might be the last time he gets to see her for a while? You have to let him know about your promotion – you can’t just drop that you’re moving to another country with the man’s child over the phone or in a message, Riley.”

I sighed deeply, frustration washing over me. “I know, Mom. It’s just... complicated. Tyler’s never been good with this kind of news. He’ll probably accuse me of trying to take Caroline away from him, even though he’s the one who’s always too busy to be around.”

Mom stayed silent for a moment; her pause filled with unspoken thoughts. “Well, it’s his loss anyway,” she finally said, her voice matter of fact. “I know of plenty of children that grew up without a father and they are doin—”

“Tyler’s always gonna be in Caroline’s life, Mom,” I interrupted, my voice raising just a bit, careful not to get too loud in front of my daughter. “I would never take her away from him – no matter how far away we are from each other.”

My mother sighed on the other end. “I’m just looking out for my granddaughter is all.”

“And I appreciate that, but this is between Tyler and me – not you or anyone else I’m sure you’re gonna blab to.”

My mother huffed on the other end, clearly taken aback by my bluntness. “Riley, I’m only trying to help. You know how much I care about you and Caroline.”

“I know, Mom,” I said, rubbing my temple as I tried to keep my frustration in check. “But I need to handle this my way. Tyler and I need to figure this out ourselves.”

“Fine,” she relented, though her tone still carried a hint of disapproval. “Just promise me you’ll keep me updated.”

“I will,” I assured her. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Don’t forge-,” The call ending before she could finish the sentence.

The car returned to a peaceful state – the only sound heard being that of the show playing on the monitor built into the driver’s seat. The same cartoon that Caroline had been watching for the past two months. Her laughter and the occasional gasp of excitement were the background music to my thoughts as I navigated the familiar streets.

“There’s Daddy’s sign!” Caroline’s voice pierced through my reverie, her little finger pointing eagerly at the familiar landmark.

The fueling station’s parking lot was filled with vehicles that strived to get on the same level as Tyler – the amateurs were always my favorite to watch – trying so hard to get to his attention but backing down once the storm got too close for comfort. Most of them just crowded around him and the gang to witness the spectacle that they displayed. Tyler was the Tornado Wrangler – a title that nearly cost him his life on multiple occasions and demolished our marriage in an F4 fashion.

Tyler’s passion for chasing storms had always been a point of contention between us. The danger, the unpredictability, the constant threat – it was a lifestyle I could never fully accept. And yet, here I was, bringing Caroline to see her father, the man who danced with tornadoes and lived to tell the tale.

I slowly pulled behind a group of professional vehicles, a far cry from noticeable red truck that sat feet away as the man of the hour towered over those in attendance – Boone and Dani passing out t-shirts to those around.

Caroline’s smile never faltering as she kept her eyes on her father, “Daddy’s being silly.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her reaction – a reaction only Tyler could evoke. “Daddy’s always silly, isn’t he?” Her head nodded enthusiastically. I placed the car in park and started gathering my purse, the sound of Caroline’s car seat buckles clanging as she hastily unbuckled herself. “Hold your horses, munchkin.”

She was already halfway out of her seat, her small hands fumbling with the door handle. Her excitement was infectious, and despite my reservations about Tyler’s lifestyle, moments like these made it all seem worth it. I took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, the warm summer air wrapping around us.

Caroline bounced out of the car, her eyes wide with anticipation. She grabbed my hand, pulling me towards the crowd where Tyler was still holding court. Boone and Dani noticing us first, their faces breaking into welcoming smiles. It had been over a year since I had seen them in person, their kindness towards me never faltering even after the divorce was finalized.

“If you feel it—” Tyler’s bright smile beamed out to the audience, a real showman.

“Chase it!” The crowd shouted back, including the four-year-old at my side, catching her father’s attention in a matter of seconds.

I watched as he hopped down from the truck, the sea of onlookers parting like the Red Sea as his arms wrapped around her small body.

Caroline squealed with delight as Tyler lifted her into the air, spinning her around before pulling her close for a tight hug. Her laughter echoed through the parking lot, a sound so pure and joyous that it made everything else fade into the background.

"There's my little storm chaser," Tyler said, his voice filled with warmth. He gently set her down, and she looked up at him with wide, excited eyes. "Did you have a good flight?"

Caroline's head nodded excitedly. "Mommy yelled at the man sitting behind us because he kept hitting the back of her seat," she blurted out, her eyes wide with innocence. Tyler chuckled, glancing at me with a raised eyebrow. "Is that so?"

I sighed, a bit embarrassed, but unable to suppress a smile. "Well, he was being rude." My shoulders shrugged. "Someone had to put him in his place."

Tyler shook his head, the smile I had fallen for years ago plastered on his scruffed face. "Riled up Riley," he teased, his eyes connecting with mine. "Glad you're sharing that with others and not just me."

I rolled my eyes playfully but couldn't help the warmth that spread through me at his words. "You know me, always fighting the good fight."

Tyler nodded, his gaze lingering on Caroline for a moment before he turned back to me. "Thanks for bringing her out here."

"No problem," I said, watching as Caroline laid her head on his shoulder, her tiny fingers gripping his shirt. "She’s been talking about it all week – about drove me crazy, to be honest." We both chuckled, sharing a moment of amusement.

Tyler's eyes softened as he looked down at Caroline, who was now playing with the collar of his shirt. "I'm glad she's excited. I’ve missed her so much." He gently kissed the top of her head, and she giggled softly.

“She missed you too," I said, my voice quiet but filled with emotion.

The unavoidable conversation of Caroline and I leaving the US for dreary old England was pushed to the wayside for the moment. This was Tyler’s moment with her – I didn’t want to ruin it before it truly even started.

[giamee]

𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐔!

୨♡୧ pairings :: yanqing x reader ; jing yuan x reader ; gepard x reader ; sampo x reader

୨♡୧ contains :: established relationship, some slight babygirlification maybe? idk im just saying words at this point, blatant favouritism

୨♡୧ gia's notes :: finally posting requests thank u for the patience sorry that this took so long for something so short 😖😖 i kept it pg because i didn't want to make any requesters uncomfortable BUT if anyone wants an nsfw version of this just say the word 🫡

୨♡୧ requests :: anon -> hihi!! may i req general relationship hcs of yan qing and/or jing yuan?? <3 also yr blog theme is so cuteSHSHDHHDHDDH take yr time in writing the req and have a lovely day ahead :> // anon -> HII!!! i saw that you're opening requests!! can i request gepard and sampo as boyfriends plss??? tysm!! 💖

𓆩♡𓆪 YANQING

-the sweetest omg :((

-definitely the most attentive bf ever

-you need something? he’s already out the door on his way to the store to get it

-you can’t reach something? yanqing is rushing to your side, plucking the item off the top shelf and handing it to you, with a sweet kiss pressed to your cheek for extra measure

-you notice your shoelace is untied but your hands are full? yanqing is kneeling down in front of you and making the perfect knot that wont undo, and then he’s taking what you’re holding off of you so that you can walk with your hands free

-i feel like he would really enjoy the outdoors

-like a date with him would include walking around the xianzhou luofu and admiring the scenery before stopping to eat something in a park

-idk if the xianzhou luofu has parks but idc roll with it

-and he is such a ray of sunshine too!!

-always smiling and sunny

-even the weather seems to brighten when he’s around

-when you’re having a bad day and have to cancel on a date with him, he’s so understanding, asking if you want him to come over to yours instead with food and some movies to watch

-and when you hear him knocking on your door and his sweet smile on the other side with not a hint of annoyance at your last minute cancellation, your worries melt at his gesture and when his scent engulfs you as he wraps you in a warm hug

-hmmm he would definitely gossip with you

-IMAGINE HIM LAYING WITH HIS HEAD IN YOUR LAP WITH HIS HAIR DOWN AND UR COMBING THROUGH IT WITH YOUR FINGERS WHILE HE TELLS U ABOUT ANY DRAMA THAT HE'S HEARD EEE

-carries two hairbands on his wrist - one for himself and one for you if you ever need it

-10/10 boyfriend i love him :(

𓆩♡𓆪 JING YUAN

-my husband

-he would be such a chill bf

-obviously since he’s a general he’s quite busy so you may not be able to see each other as much as you would like to :(

-but jing yuan will always make time for you <3

-whether that means he has to, god forbid, skip out on an afternoon nap to finish paperwork, he WILL get home in time to greet you with a kiss that has you melting into him

-while he may appear reserved at times, he’s a very passionate lover (wink)

-he just likes to keep things private

-he believes that’s what makes your relationship more special

-i feel like he’s kind of got a thing for domesticity

-jing yuan holds an appreciation for the slower, quieter moments in life

-moments where time doesn’t matter, because you’re asleep in his arms and the slight gust of your breath against his bare skin is soothing him into a state of overwhelming calm that reminds him that he has absolutely nowhere to be for the foreseeable future

-(he just really likes sleeping with you)

-you definitely have to convince him to get out of bed some days

-the general of the xianzhou luofu is in your bed and whining when you try to wiggle out of his grasp, hugging you tighter despite your protests

-and he'll never admit it but the mf will POUT when you both inevitably have to get up

-and he'll be so dramatic about it too

-"i thought you loved me, why are you leaving..."

-and you shoot him a glare while you get dressed

-and then you see the way his toned back is rising and falling gently as your boyfriend just lays there and breathes, eyes fixed on you as if he were committing you to memory, and the look in his eyes draws you back to your shared bed

-because five more minutes really couldn't hurt, not when they're spent with him <33

𓆩♡𓆪 GEPARD

-this man

-dhfjjrjghehfjejcjsjcjhdfh

-as much as i want him to be the most amazing perfect boyfriend ever

-i feel like that would take some time to develop in the relationship

-he is a younger sibling after all

-and while he's sweet and receptive and always remembers the smallest details of what you mentioned to him in passing

-he can also be stubborn and a bit clueless at times

-cut the man some slack it's his first relationship and he's trying his best

-between being captain of the silvermane guards and just... life in general, the man has never really had the opportunity to let loose or explore his feelings

-you two probably meet through serval. you work in her shop and one day gepard comes in because he needs something repaired and he sees you at the counter and that's it game over he's imagining your entire life together

-and like any older sibling would serval would very quickly figure out the blatant crush that gepard has on you and then teases the living hell out of him for it

-she keeps orchestrating little scenarios that end up with you and gepard in close proximity with each other

-and even though he's mad at his sister, he has to admit that it's nice to spend time with you

-but i think the final push is one night where serval manages to convince you and gepard to tag along with her to a new bar that has opened

-personally i hc that gepard is an absolute lightweight and the man cannot hold his tongue when he isn't sober

-and once the alcohol flush reaches his face it's game over

-serval ever so conveniently slips off to buy herself another drink

-which was five minutes ago, and she's nowhere in sight

-and gepard just starts talking to fill the gap

-and then he can't stop talking and oh he's confessed and then you're smiling and telling him you've been waiting for him to make a move

-and in the span of 5 minutes gepard's gone and got himself a significant other

-and YES now for the actual relationship hcs lmao 💀

-so YEAH

-gepard is head over heels whipped crazy for you

-but he's also emotionally constipated

-probably goes rigid if you hold his hand in public

-takes a while for him to get used to physical affection

-but once he does the man is all over u

-i think he likes to play with your fingers i think

-and then kiss them each individually

-and then lace his fingers with yours and hold it close to his chest

-and then stay like that as he drifts off to sleep next to you

-sob

-he's probably kinda goofy once he comes out of his shell

-like he probably talks to inanimate objects LMAO

-and he hums and sings under his breath ofc

-so it's really cute in the early mornings when he wakes up a bit before you have to, and he's moving around getting ready while still half asleep and your eyes are still closed but you can hear him humming a song he recently heard as he brushes his teeth

-AUGH

-i need him

-and then he will ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS drop back down next to you in bed before he has to go and do his guard duties

-and press the sweetest gentlest kiss to your forehead

-then your cheeks and nose and chin

-before finally your lips

-and he tells you to have a good day and that he loves you and he'll see you soon

-screaming rn i take it back he's perfect

𓆩♡𓆪 SAMPO

-DEF THE MOST FUN GUY TO DATE EVER

-super spontaneous for sure

-quick day trip to belobog with your boyfriend who's a wanted criminal ❤️

-idc if he's canonically a scammer this man will never lie to u (bc he's whipped as hell and he loves u ok)

-he uses the money from scamming ppl to buy gifts for you LMAO

-and even though the man has a silver tongue and he gets all melodramatic as part of his travelling salesman act

-when you're alone and in private his walls will come down and he'll just look at you with lovestruck eyes and tell you how beautiful or handsome you are with no games

-or just say nothing at all and bask in your presence

-i think he def needs someone who matches his energy

-like he's trying to sell someone a product and he shoots you a look and you come over and play the part of anither interested buyer to get them to buy it

-absolutely lethal duo

-and i feel like because he's so fun he would be really good with kids

-so if you ever need help babysitting a younger sibling or cousin

-he would be the #1 call for backup fr

-by the end of the night ur cousin likes HIM more than you (the audacity) and is calling him uncle sampo :((

-he would so tease you

-it's his love language <3

-but if you want to get back at him

-yk those slutty little cutouts he has in his shirt at the hip?

-yeah just tickle him there and he will fold immediately

-he probably has like this rlly ridiculous laugh that only cones out then or something

-and you're probably the only person who's ever heard it

-hmmm what else

-sampo probably has a bit of a possessive streak too

-tries to maintain his cool facade but someone else tries to flirt with you?

-his eye is twitching and he's by your side immediately, hand around your waist and a cold glare directed at whoever was dumb enough to try

-mans probably spoils you rotten LMAO

-would definitely pick a pretty flower every time he sees one to bring back and give to you

-you have a collection of pressed flowers from him at this point

-10/10 amazing boyfie <3

୨♡୧ honkai star rail masterlist

[deltaromeo3]

𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚍 ⋆ Lando Norris

pairing: Lando Norris x mediaofficer!reader

warning(s): a lil angst if u squint hard enough, swearing, fluff IF YOU SQUINT. this is a looong one.

as requested by: this ask!

A/N: as always, feedback (good or bad) is appreciated! my first Lando fic lol I hope you enjoyed it! <3

“I love you doesn’t begin to express what I feel for you.”

It was a typical Monday morning; you were carrying a cup of coffee in one hand and a bunch of folders in another. You were at the MTC, on the way to the conference room for a pre-season meeting.

This year you would find out which driver you’d be working with. Oscar or Lando? You didn’t mind either one.

As you entered the elevator, pressing the ‘close door’ button, someone shouts.

“Hold the door, please!”

You quickly pressed the ‘hold door’ button, letting the gentleman in.

“Thank you,” He says, slightly out of breathe from running.

“No worries,”

A silence fell between the two of you. Well of course, he’s none other than Lando Norris, the beloved McLaren driver. There was a huge difference between the two of you, first of all you were in different tax brackets and secondly he was a Formula 1 driver. And you were.. you.

You exit the lift after him. You noticed he turned left as well, and was walking in the same direction you were going towards.

“You’re going to the conference room as well?”

He hums in response. “Pre-season meeting. You joining?”

You nod and he holds the door open for you, letting you in first.

You were greeted by a few other workers from the PR team. No Zak in sight, guessing he was busy with other team related stuff.

You sat down and he sits across you. The meeting begins soon after Oscar enters the room.

“Lando, this year you’ll be under the care of Y/N L/N, so please, be nice yeah?”

He nods. “I’m always nice what do you mean?”

You extend your hand and he shakes it.

“Well I’m.. Lando. You know.”

You smile, “And i’m Y/N. Hoping to a good season with you.”

“You’ve got a nice name,”

“Well thank you, Lando.”

And that was months ago.

You realised you grew closer to Lando, too close in fact. He followed you on Instagram (no idea why. He said why not), you would exchange texts almost every day (and night), and would often gossip with each other. It was nice, but it was unexpected. You often questioned why.

It all started when one time, during lunch, he took a seat across you. You found it weird, he would always be seated with Oscar or Max. This action of course earned funny looks from them, but Lando didn’t seem to mind.

“Whatcha doin’ here? Aren’t you always with Oscar or Max?” You asked as you ate your food.

“Just felt like a change of scenery today. You mind if I sat here?”

You shook your head.

“Great,” he says as he stands up to get his food.

And from then on, with every single media duty you had, the both of you just grew closer. You would often come to the track together. While others found it suspicious, some found it cute. They just figured it was just the two of you getting along well.

Given a choice, Lando would always choose you to bring him for his media duties. Anytime you were gone, he would ask for you. You were fairly new to this whole F1 thing too so in a way he was teaching you the ropes as well.

And he was more than happy to do so. He would tell you where the media pen was if you got lost, he even made your job easier by trying not say anything that wasn’t meant to be heard on live TV. All in all, he was very well trained and your job was smooth sailing (mostly.)

Another instance was when you were down with Covid during Baku. You had to take a week off from work meaning you werent in charge of Lando and his media duties were all in the hands of someone else. Poor Ava.

You were trying to sleep, it was in the wee hours of 3am.

Suddenly your phone rings.

“Lando i’m not-“

“Where are you?” He asks, ignoring your question.

“Home.”

“Like, in London?”

You nod in response.

“Why aren’t you here? Why is Ava in charge of my media duties and not you?”

“I’m sick, Lan. Covid.”

The nickname just rolls off your tongue like butter on toast. You had no idea why you said Lan instead of Lando but he didn’t seem to mind.

“WHAT!” He shouts over the phone. You wince at the sudden loudness.

“But you’ll be back soon right?” He asks, concern in his voice.

“Of course. Why? Miss me?” You teased.

“Mhm.”

“Mhm? What’s mhm?”

“Just.. just be back soon kay? And sorry for calling you at this timing. It’s like what- 3 in the morning there? Anyways, rest well. Take care of yourself.” He says in a caring tone.

You smile, blushing a little bit. But thank God your room was dark so he couldn’t really see the smile that was forming on your face.

“Thank you Lan. I’ll see you in a week.”

“A week?!” He groans. “Okay okay… see you then.”

“Bye,”

“Bye.”

The line clicks.

Next morning, you woke up to a delivery on your front door.

It was a hamper; filled with goodies, chicken essence and a few cans of chicken/mushroom soup.

You picked it up, placing it on the table. You read the card that came along with it.

“Missing my media girl. Feel better soon x”

Lando. You smiled. He didn’t have to, but he did. Wait wait- how did he know my address?

Monaco. Your favourite track.

You were getting ready to go to the track with Lando. You ruffled through your suitcase in a frenzy, realising that you didn’t pack your polo.

You panicked, figuring out what to do. You called Ava but it went straight to voicemail. You figured she was busy.

Who else could you call?

Right.

Lando bloody Norris.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, right?

The line rings. “Y/N! What’s up.”

“You don’t happen to have an extra McLaren polo, do you?”

He chuckles, “I’ll be there in 5.”

You sigh in relief, “Thank you.”

His room was right across yours so it didn’t take him long for him to arrive. He passed you the shirt and you took it without looking at it.

You wore it for the rest of the day, not knowing the shirt had a big ol’ NORRIS 4 on the back.

And of course, the fans went crazy about that.

You didn’t know it then, but Lando knew exactly what he was doing.

Summer break.

You expected to spend it alone in your apartment like you always do but this year was different.

You spent your summer golfing with Lando and of course Carlos, (something you didn’t think you would do), a week in Monaco and a few days in Amalfi Coast.

Of course, you posted on your Instagram story. This garnered the attention of your friends. Summer break was also where the line between “friends” and “someone I work with” became blurred.

@yourusername posted on their story

@yourusername posted on their story

@yourusername posted on their story

The choice of residence in Amalfi Coast was a 3 bedroom home, but of course there were hiccups; there weren’t enough rooms and so, Lando gave you his and he slept on the couch.

That night when you woke up thirsty and wanted to grab a drink, you passed by Lando in the living room. He was asleep so you tried your best to be quiet.

After pouring yourself a drink, you tiptoed back to the room in order to not wake him up. You buried yourself under the covers when suddenly you heard a knock. You exhaled out a breathe you didn't even know you were holding.

“Y/N?” The gruff voice calls out.

Shit.

You went to open the door to be greeted by a sleepy, messy-haired, half-naked (he didn’t sleep with a shirt on) Lando. Guess your efforts were futile after all.

“Yes?”

“You mind if I slept with you? I can’t seem to fall asleep on that stupid couch,”

You nodded and he let himself in. You realised you were just in an oversized top and undies, you weren’t wearing any pants so you quickly scurried to the bed, covering yourself with the duvet.

“I know you’re not wearing any pants. You don’t have hide it,” He suddenly spoke.

Your eyes widen. “Wh-what?”

“I said you don’t have to hide it. I’ve seen you in a bikini before so it’s not that awkward.”

“Okay…?” Was all you managed to say.

The next morning, you woke up cuddled into Lando. You eyes widened at the thought of you two even cuddling. You were quickly brought back to reality when you felt his hands playing with the section of skin on your back that was exposed since your shirt rode up in your sleep.

“Good morning,” He says. You quickly escape his grasp and returned to your side of the bed.

“M-morning,”

He chuckles softly, “I had a good sleep last night. Thanks.” He says before exiting the room to go to God knows where.

To be honest, you kind of developed a crush for Lando, but you had no idea if he felt the same. Maybe he was just being friendly you told yourself.

Working with him was great, but being able to hang out with him and see what he was like outside of work was even better.

He was kind, a little goofy and of course a total flirt. He was shy too at times, but when you told Max why Lando was so shy around you, all Max did was laugh and say “You’ll know soon enough.”

And soon enough you did.

You remembered the day so clearly; it was a breezy evening in Monza. You were still Lando’s media officer, but somewhere along the lines the two of you stopped being close.

Lando didn’t go to the track with you anymore, and everyone realised that. They wondered if you and Lando weren’t friends anymore, or was it more than that?

It was a first, the friendship faltered but your feelings for him stood strong. You couldn’t lie, but you missed talking to him. All the late night chats, the calls, the gossips. You wondered, was it something you said? Or did?

P19. He finished P19. He refused to do any post race interviews, “tell me how much and I’ll write a cheque” was all he said.

He was mad about the shit car, the shit pace, and that nothing has been going his way these past few months. Lando had been finishing below top 10 and he was unhappy about it.

You noticed how upset he was but you weren’t on talking terms so you didn’t check up on him.

You headed off to you hotel, calling it a night.

You sat down on the bed, you sighed, looking down at your phone. Usually, you would be texting Lando to the point where you dont even look up to see where you’re walking. But tonight, just like the other nights, your phone remained silent. No rings, no dings, nothing.

You don’t know why you were expecting a text, he was in no mood to talk anyways even if you two were on talking terms.

As you were about to enter the bathroom for a shower, your phone dings.

You looked at it, your heart rate now increasing.

Talk? Talk about what?

You replied and anxiously waited for an answer. But the answer came in the form of a knock.

You walked to the door, opening it. Lando walks in and takes a seat on the foot of your bed.

He stays silent for a minute, and you just stood there looking at him, waiting for some sort of sentence to come out from his mouth.

“I-“ He sighs. He looks up at you.

“P19.” He says.

“Yeah I know, I was there.” You dismissed him. “Is that all you have to say after you stopped replying to my messages? After avoiding me at work? What’s wrong with you?” You blurted out.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you!”

“Me?! Go on, why don’t you tell me whats wrong? I wasn’t the one who just decided to fuck off out of no where and give the cold shoulder.”

He laughs, humourlessly, “First of all, you’re a fucking muppet. Can’t you see?”

You interrupt, “A muppet? Wow I-“

He cuts you off, “Listen will you?! I brought you to Monaco and Amalfi Coast. We shared a bed together. I don’t do that for just anyone. You’re.. fuck!” He stops, “You’re funny, kind and you’re beautiful, oh god you’re beautiful. All these things I did for you, don’t you see it Y/N? I’m…” He pauses, “I’m whipped Y/N.. I’m fucking head over heels for you. And I love you doesn’t begin to express what I feel for you so I stopped talking to you cos I didn’t want to hurt myself if you were to not feel the same way. And of course I miss you, I miss talking to you, I miss going to track with you. Everyone’s asking me why and I don’t have an answer for them!”

You felt tears brimming in your eyes. You cried, not because you were sad, but because you felt like there was a huge weight that had been lifted off your shoulder.

He rushes over to you as soon as you cried, holding you in his arms.

“Shit, I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you.”

You cried even more, “I-it’s not that,” You said in between breathes.

“Then? What’s wrong? Talk to me,”

“I,” You tried to speak, “I l-like you t-too Lando.”

He laughs, “Well you could’ve told me that before I started screaming like a crazy idiot didn’t you?”

You laughed, “Yeah, yeah I could’ve.”

[greynatomy]

falling for mccabe

lia wälti x reader

don’t really know how to feel about this

———

You and Katie were like two pease in a pod. Growing up, you had different interests, but that didn’t stop you from supporting one another. You moved away from Ireland first, wanting a change in scenery, be more independent. So when you got hired at a hospital in London, you accepted right away. Telling Katie was the hardest part of leaving home.

Just two years later though, Katie signed for Arsenal, the choice was a no brainer for her. She got herself her own apartment but came over to yours as much as she can. Her team, once they were all comfortable and got to know each other better, would tease her, saying that she needs her big sissy cuddles. Katie, however, was never once embarrassed by the teasing. She loves to be able to call her her big sister.

You never really got to know any of her teammates from Arsenal until after the lockdown. Katie’s teammates told her to invite you over to the club. You got along with the team, some more than others, and maybe got to bring one of them home with you.

The same person you brought home was now your very secret girlfriend. You were going to tell Katie the moment it became official, but you found out from your girlfriend that your sister’s girlfriend was her ex-girlfriend and became stuck.

You and your girlfriend were still fast asleep, your arm slung over her waist, holding her close that you didn’t hear your front door opening and steps coming closer to your bedroom. 

“Rise and shi—WHAT THE FUCK!”

You shoot up from the bed, falling over the side, bumping the side of your head on your bedside table. Lia gets out of bed just as fast.

“Ow.”

“Oh, baby.” Lia crawls over the bed to you, her hand replacing the side of your head that you were rubbing.

“Baby?” Caitlin speaks for the first time.

“Couldn’t you fucking knock. Fucking almost killed me you cunt.”

“Oi! I don’t appreciate that tine, missy!”

“I’m older so I can talk to you how I want.”

“Woah. Okay, sassy.” Lia covers your mouth with her hand. “Why don’t you both wait in the living room while we put some more clothes on.”

Caitlin drags Katie out to the living room by her arm. A minute later, Lia comes out and Katie walks back towards the bedroom, leaving the two exes by themselves.

“Would you like something to drink?” Lia asks.

“A coffee would be good. One cream—”

“—Two sugars.”

“You remember.” Lia gives her a tight lipped smile, not knowing how to reply. “So… how long has that been going on?”

“Uh, a year or so ago now. Since that time at the bar after lockdown.”

“No way.” Caitlin states in disbelief.

“What?”

“That’s when Katie and I started seeing each other.”

“Wow.” Lia whispers, shocked with the information. “Who would’ve thought we’d fall for a McCabe at the same time.”

“Don’t sound so shocked baby. I’ll have you know that I am quite the catch.”

“It’s the Irish genes I tell you.”

Both of the sisters’ girlfriends roll their eyes at their cockiness.

“Know what’d be funny?” Katie looks at you and you smirk in understanding.

“What is it?” Caitlin asks impatiently.

“You and Lia are still friends right? No hard feelings?” You ask.

“Yeah…” They were both now skeptical.

“Why don’t we mess with your fans for a bit.”

“What do you have in mind?” Lia wraps an arm around your waist, now very curious.

“Nothing too crazy. Just start interacting more. Be best friends. You’ll be in-laws sooner than later anyway.”

The next few days, the fans have been gong crazy over all of the Caitlin and Lia interaction they were seeing. Walking out of the coach together, walking to the locker room together, walking out to the pitch together, celebrating goals together, signing/taking photos with fans together. Are they together? Everyone was confused, including their teammates and national teammates, but they both simply ignore all questions.

You had a very rare day off from your job which lined up with Arsenal’s off day, so what better way to celebrate than to stay home and get drunk. Katie has been known to be a crazy drinker and knowing you just a short time, its safe to say where Katie got it from.

You and Katie were drunk, at the phase where everything is funny. Lia and Caitlin are a bit tipsy, still in control of themselves. Ever since catching you and Lia in bed together two weeks ago, the two became close again, like before. No romantic feeling left for each other and care now very good friends, you and Katie being a common denominator.

Caitlin and Lia were in the living room when they no longer heard the two of you. A silent McCabe meant something was wrong, but two silent McCabes… they knew you were up to no good. They slowly crept into the kitchen, hoping to catch what the two of you were up to, going unnoticed. They were both greeted by the sight of the siblings focused on something on Katie’s phone, identical furrowed eyebrows on you faces.

“What are you two up to?” Lia asks cautiously.

“Hey!” You perk up from the sound of your girlfriend’s voice. “Katie is doing this instagram thing and I’m just a bit confused.”

“Yeah, cause you’re old and don’t know how to use social media.”

“Well, what would I post? “‘Hey, instagram! I’ve just finished fixing up this person’s brain for ten hours.”’ You like have to be on it.”

“Are you allowed to take pictures while you’re in the operating room?”

“I’d probably have to get some consent forms signed.”

“You should facetime me sometime.”

“Wait. What is it you don’t understand?” Caitlin now asks.

is that caitlin? did i hear caitlin’s voice i heard lia’s earlier caitlin and lia together again??

“It keeps saying your names now. How does instagram know your names?” You were very confused now. Your drunk self couldn’t make sense of anything.

“Give me that.”

Lia grabs the phone off the table, Lia looking over her shoulder to take a look herself.

“Ohmygod.” Caitlin was quick to move the phone away from her face, setting it on the table face up. “Katie!”

“Yes, sugarplum?” Katie answered at the same time you asked, “Did you figure it out or not?”

“You’re on instagram live!”

People watching the live are now freaking out. Some confused, but most are freaking out at the quick sight of Caitlin and Lia together.

“Okay, um, we have to go. Bye guys.” Lia quickly ends the live.

Just second later, both Caitlin and Lia’s phones are ringing from calls and messages from their friends.They looked at each other and silenced their phones, making sue to turn off the tracking privileges for some of their friends. No one would be able to find them as you were all at your house.

“Want to just post something to freak people out more?’

“Great idea.”

———

liked by leahwilliamson, caitlinfoord and 48,738 others

liawalti from exes to in-laws

view all comments

leahwilliamson huh?

kyracooneyx PARENTS!

katie_mccabe11 hi sister in-law

↳ caitlinfoord how’d you get your phone back?

↳ katie_mccabe11 a magician never reveals their secrets

ynmccabe hi, honey!

↳ liawalti since when did you get instagram?

↳ ynmccabe right now. katie did it for me

user now that’s gold

user not everyone freaking out that they got back together

↳ user me… i was everyone

user not you two falling for sisters

[gojoshooter]

Driving you Crazy : Gojo Satoru

Pairing : husband!gojo x wife!yn who are teachers at Jujutsu high

A/N : another husband gojo hc cus I'm def enjoying this too much

WARNINGS : teasing, reader in a skirt

Teacher!Gojo putting you in his lap while driving because there are no more seats left. The car is stuffed with his students he planned to take on a field trip with you, each first year stacked on above a second year.

Teacher!y/n who settles on her husband's lap, blushing at the size difference

Teacher!Gojo who drives with one hand in a folded sleeve holding you with his other hand

Teacher!y/n keeping both her legs on each of Gojo's thighs when the realization of a skirt being a bad choise hits her hard

Teacher!Gojo who smiles while tucking you closer so you don't slip and fall

Teacher!y/n who can hear her husband's little sing-songy hums and warm breath fanning lightly on her neck

Teacher!Gojo 's pov where he can literally see you from above, you're so small in front of him that his chin touches your head

Teacher!y/n who watches the scenery from the side window with a cute frown embarrassed with her current situation

Teacher!Gojo sighing as he wonders out loud "isn't this a stuffy place? oh to sit on the comfiest seat" adjusting himself suggestively

Teacher!yn who has a hard time deciding whether to be more mad or to stop her lips twitching into a smile

Teacher!y/n who then feels every vibration of his chuckle pass from his chest to her body

Teacher!Gojo who would spread his thighs apart just to see you panic & let out a squeak through your lips

Teacher!y/n who would kick his husband's shin in an attempt to make him stop when Nanami coughs with a warning

Teacher!Gojo who kisses your cheek subtly as an apology for being an ass

Teacher!yn not falling for it as she grits out "you know i can give you a harder time? stop being a jerk in the face of your kids"

Teacher!Gojo who kisses your cherry red ears before whispering "sorry mrs. gojo" just to spite you further...

A/N : that is it for today!! hope you enjoyed this even just a bit ^^ likes and reblogs are appreciated —♡

Tags : @luckimoon @nanamikentoseyebags @maybekoya @pretty-toru

[whenlostinthedarkness]

Ellie x reader where they take nudes of each other on a Polaroid camera they found on a patrol and completely forget about them until someone finds them🫣😭

May or may not have written a whole ass one shot because this got me so inspired lol. Thank you for requesting this; Enjoy anon xx

Warnings: Sexual overtones and some sexual stuff sorta but not really, swearing, & use of marijuana.

Word Count: 2.5k

Anytime you and your girlfriend Ellie were put on a patrol route together, you could feel the giddiness exploding between both of you.

On a usual day where one of you had the day off and the other was out on work duties, the one at home would be sitting around, bored, and attempting to busy themselves until their girlfriend returned safe and sound. But today was one of those lucky days where you both were needed on the patrol route.

The start of patrol was pretty chill as both of you alternated between sifting through withered buildings and riding along on your horses, allowing time to appreciate the scenery of the area around in the downtime you had.

"Hey, let's check out that building with the camera sign," Ellie spoke as she rode on her horse directly next to you, pointing her finger in the direction of a storefront sized building.

You peered in the direction she was pointing at before looking back at her with an accepting shrug, "I'm down if you are."

The both of you guided your horses over in the direction of the building before leaving the animals to stand side by side, just a few feet from the broken glass door that went into the, what you assumed to be, old camera store.

"Check this shit out", Ellie said with excitement in her tone as her bright eyes marveled at the colorful, peeled wallpaper and exposed brick in a building that had to have been the ideal modern storefront before all of the infected shit happened.

You squealed as you quickly walked over to a massive bookshelf set on a wall. Several scrap pieces of cardboard and glass littered the shelf, but what your eye had been after was the books that were some how still set on the shelf as if the world hadn't completely shifted since they were first placed on the shelf.

You picked one of the books up, shoving off the layers upon layers of dust and debris that had gathered over the years, until you could make out the title on the cover, 'Camera's Throughout the Years'.

"Shit, look at this babe!"

You glanced over your shoulder to Ellie who was holding what appeared to be an oblong, square shaped, object.

Immediately, you walked over to her as she stared at this object that nearly looked futuristic to the both of you.

" What is it?", you said, tracing your finger along the thing in question.

"Hell if I know," Ellie shrugged, pressing all of the buttons on the mystery item in hopes that it would somehow start talking or moving or..doing whatever the hell its purpose was.

"Let me see if its in this book".

Quickly, you removed the cover of the book and flipped through the pages, scanning the table of contents in search of info, until you came across a diagrammed image of what appeared to be the very thing set in Ellie's hands.

"El, I think I've got it!"

Ellie was quick to move the camera away from her face and look down at the book you held in the palms of your hands.

"Looks like it's something called a Polaroid Camera." Your eyes were still scanning the book as quickly as you could as your fingers followed along with the typed words on the page.

"I think if you press the button over..here on the right..," your eyes were fixated on the object in Ellie's hand and she couldn't help but admire the way your eyes were squinted in concentration as your tongue slightly peaked out between your parted lips.

"...and just lift up on this part...it should open up."

It took you a couple tries, but eventually the top part began to move upwards until it was sitting straight up, exposing a fully intact Polaroid Camera.

"Holy shit dude!", Ellie exclaimed, eyes wild and smile never ending as she examined everything (and I mean everything) about the cameras exterior.

You rattled off the instructions on how to use it as Ellie continued to marvel at the object.

"Looks like we need films in order to use it El," you said with disappointment in your voice, "...unless."

Ellie could tell the wheels in your brain were turning as you looked the camera up, down, side to side; quickly, she handed it over to you.

"Holy shit, there's still film in this thing."

"You've got to be shitting me?!"

"Look!" You exclaimed, showing Ellie the little box of film that was still snugged inside of the square shaped compartment at the very bottom of the camera.

"Should we...test it out?"

"Oh most definitely", you replied to Ellie as you pulled the camera up to your face and looked through it's small view finder.

"Smile for me El."

Immediately, Ellie pulled up her hand to cover her face from the camera, "No fucking way."

You pouted, but continued to follow Ellie with the camera persistently, "Please El."

"What's in it for me?" Ellie smirked, bringing her hand down in order to cross both of her arms in front of her body, just below her chest.

You removed your eye from its focus on the viewfinder and lowered the camera down away from your face with an annoyed, yet amused grin.

"Oh god."

"What?"

"You know what Ellie."

Ellie walked over to you until her feet were planted on the cracked wood floor with the tips of both of your shoes touching. "Enlighten me then."

Smugly, you moved your face ever so slightly towards Ellie, which didn't go unnoticed by her. "You're never fair with your little games."

"What games", Ellie shrugged, fully playing the part of an innocent victim (which she wasn't).

"Mmmm okay."

"Okay," Ellie mimicked, trying to match your tone.

You weren't one to back down from a challenge to one up your stubborn girlfriend and now wasn't any different.

"You really wanna go there?" You moved your body forward, making Ellie nearly fall backwards from your gentle, yet sturdy nudge as she stood directly in front of you.

"Go where?"

"Shut up Ellie," you continued your nudging, but this time you didn't stop. The both of you continued on with Ellie walking backwards and you walking forwards directly into her.

"Make me."

Ellie watched as, the moment the words left her mouth, your innocent eyes seemed to cloud with devilish intention.

Gently, you placed your free hand on top of Ellies and guided until it was landing on your clothed chest; Ellie's pulse instantly began to quicken as her mind and emotions shifted from playful to aroused.

FLASH!

A strong beam of white light over took the dimly lit store as the sound of the film being spat out of the camera took over the only sound in the store, that is until Ellie let out a "What the fuck!"

You backed away from your girlfriend with a playful smile as you moved the camera away from your face and shook the film in your hand; again, doing just as the book advised.

"Babe cmon on," Ellie protested, trying to grab the film out of your hand.

"El, don't you want to see what your face looks like when you grab my boob?"

"No actually, I'd rather just see your boob."

You playfully scoffed, "Maybe you will if you stop being so difficult."

At that, Ellie stopped attempting to grab the photo in your hand, "You better be for real."

You shook your head, "You're ridiculous, you know that,"

Ellie's soft yet playful smile made you crack a genuine smile as you reached out for her hand, intertwining the tip of both of your fingers.

"Awww Ellie", immediately you cradled the photo to your chest with your free hand.

It only took a quick look, but the photo was preciously adorned with Ellie and an awestruck look on her face that made her features seem so soft and relaxed.

Ellie rolled her eyes, still wearing a smile that let you know she was appreciating your admiration for her looks, "Yeah yeah."

"You look so cute dude. I'm going to put this up in my place."

Ellie couldn't help her smile now, not even bothering to attempt to cover it up as you clutched it to your chest with two hands now, gleaming right back at her.

"I guess, it's time for your end of the deal now," you spoke slowly, raising the camera up and out to hand over to Ellie.

"What do you mean?", she questioned.

You smirked, moving your arms out of your shirt until it was lifted up & over your head.

"Wha-what are yo-you.."

Before Ellie could finish her stuttering sentence, your shirt was being discarded onto the ground, leaving you standing in your dusted jeans and grey sports bra.

Your hand out stretched to Ellie, beckoning her to come closer to you, which she happily accepted.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ellie said as she now stood just a bout a foot or so in front of you.

"Helping you get your picture." Suddenly your hands were slowly reaching for the bottom hem of the only fabric that was covering your chest.

"Babe."

"Hmm?", you hummed, lifting the fabric off of your top half until it was discarded alongside your shirt, leaving your chest naked, much to Ellies pleasure.

"Holy Shit." Ellie admired quietly, her eyes naturally raking over your chest and then back up to your eyes. "Are you asking me to take a picture of..you know," Ellie motioned her hand in the general area of where your tits were.

The mix of nervousness and astonishment in Ellie's voice was something you wished you could recored to play on repeat for those days when she was out on patrol without you.

As you stared at your girlfriend, giving her a smile, she didn't think twice about lifting the camera up to her face.

"All you do is put your eye in that little Hole right there and press the red button on the side," you explained, but if Ellie was being honest, she was only half able to comprehend any of your words. She was much too preoccupied with the way your tits were naked for her to devour with her eyes..and now to capture and have for..whenever the occasion arose.

As Ellie peered through the viewfinder, her cheeks reddened as you shifted your shoulders back, making your tits that much more pronounced and ready for her to bring her lips to.

Ellies pointer finger held down the shutter as the familiar noise of the film ejecting itself echoed through the store.

"It'll take a second for it to-"

Ellie interrupted you by quickly placing the camera and it's fresh film onto the nearby shelf and pining your back against the red brick accent wall, surely leaving slight scratches along your bare back.

You gleamed up at her as you wrapped your arms around her neck; it didn't take long for her lips to come into contact with yours in a harsh kiss that was dripping in longing.

Ellie let out a chuckle as her lips removed themselves from yours, "Maybe we should take this along so we could..take some more."

------

A Week Later

"Shut the fuck up Jesse," Ellie nudged her friend with her shoulder as the alcohol in his body made him giggle like a school child next to her.

Ellie and her friend in tow were crunching their way through the snow covered roads as they got closer and closer to the front door of her house after a night out of catching up.

Ellies hand twisted on the doorknob as she flicked on a lamp and stabbed her knife into a nearby table.

"Let me find my weed real quick then we can smoke up."

Jesse nodded, removing both his boots & coat before flopping down on Ellie's couch.

Jesse had been to your home many times before, probably having it subconsciously memorized if you had quizzed him on all the contents of your home...but something caught his eye this time that seemed out of place.

As Ellie went to her bathroom, grabbing the small tin that held potent smelling greenery, Jesse's curiosity got the better of him.

Peaking out from underneath one of Ellie's sketchbooks was the corner of...something..an object that Jesse couldn't fully make out. Looking around quickly, Jesse sneakily thumbed the corner of the object, sliding it out from underneath the leather bound book, until...it was revealed.

His cheeks grew red at the polaroid of you and your naked chest staring back at him, making him forcefully tuck it back underneath the sketchbook.

"Two pre-rolled joints coming up," with every word, Ellie's voice came closer and closer until she was in full view and plopping down on the couch next to her sheepish looking friend.

"Here", Ellie's long fingers pinched the edge of the joint as she passed it over to Jesse, but he didn't take it right away.

"Jess?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry", Jesse's eyes must've been deer in the headlights worthy as Ellie scanned him with a furrowed brow.

"You good?"

"Yeah. Fine."

"You don't seem fine," Ellie chuckled as she held the lighter up to the white stick in her mouth until it was smoking at the end.

Jesse took the lighter Ellie held out to him, lighting his joint with a look of disassociation still evident on his face.

"Dude, what's up with you?", Ellie questioned as she exhaled.

Jesse gulped after taking the first hit and breathing the smoke out through his nose and mouth.

"You uh..you may want to try to hide this better."

Ellie looked confused at her best friend, "Hide what?"

The substance was beginning to relax Jesse more as he felt the weight on his shoulders soften and his once mortified eyes beginning to fall more closed than usual.

He chuckled, moving his eyes down to Ellie's sketchbook, doing his best to give her the hint without him having to actually say that he found her girlfriends nudes.

"What the hell are you on Jesse", Ellie chuckled, deeply inhaling and eyeing her friend.

Jesse sighed before bringing his hand down to Ellie's sketchbook, tapping his finger against the corner of the polaroid picture that had been revealed to his eyes just minutes ago.

Suddenly, Ellie's squinted pupils grew wider than ever as she came around to what he was talking about.

"Shit," she said, grabbing her sketchbook quickly, but forgetting that the intimate photo that Jesse found wasn't the only one set underneath the journal.

Jesse's eyes subconsciously dragged over to the..not so safe for work images of you, Ellie, and one of Ellie's hand wrapped around what he assumed to be her girlfriends neck.

"Fucking hell Ellie!" Jesse covered his eyes quickly as if somehow that would magically erase the images that were sure to burn into your mind for the foreseeable future.

"Damn it-Fuck, fuck fuck," Ellie swore as she grabbed the remainder of the images, placing them completely hidden under her sketchbook that was now on her bedside table.

"I-I'm so sorry Jesse."

But Jesse was much too fucked up by now to be able to be bothered by the accident, all his mind thought to do was begin laugh vigorously as his hand vibrated as it rested on top of his abdomen.

"Hey, fuck off," Ellie said as she began to lose the embarrassment as she playfully taunted her friend before once again sitting down next to him on the couch.

"I see why you date her," Jesse quipped, his laughter still spilling out to the point where it was difficult for him to get even one word out.

Ellie wasn't sure if it was the weed beginning to do it's job, the situation that had just happen, or a good combination of both, but she too began laughing hysterically and playfully hit Jesse's shoulder.

"Erase that shit from your brain dude."

"Oh don't worry," Jesse nodded through red rimmed eyes, "I'm going to try to."

[inazumatrash]

Some concept art for a discarted comic idea.

But I ended up adapting the script to a fanfic! (It's a little rough and I'm new to writing, so any feedback is welcome) Omori spoilers ahead.

The events of this story happens sometime after Mari's funeral.

///

It's sunset time with blue and soft pink tints all over the urban scenery. Basil is finishing tying up the velcro of his sandals to go out. Grabbing the door knob, he turns his head back to leave one final message before leaving.

"I'll be back soon, grandma!"

There's a chilling breeze outside and the streets are eerily empty. But Basil prefer this way. His head is full of thoughts, he needs the space. Approaching his destination, he stops looking at the sidewalk and lifts his head. He finally spot a living soul a bit ahead of him.

It's Kel. He's in front of Sunny's house. Kel seems to hesitate for a while, but gathers courage and knocks on the door. He vigorously give three consecutive knocks.

"That's a bit too much." Basil observes. Good old Kel.

It doesn't take too long for the door to open, and Sunny's mom appears. She has a dull look in her eyes. She's tired.

"Oh, it's you, Kelsey…" She looks over his shoulder. "and Basil."

Kel also looks back. Basil is suddenly there, a few steps of distance.

"What can I do for you two?"

"Uh." Kel is a little surprised with Basil's presence, but figured out he came for the same reason as him. "Can I- Can we talk to Sunny?"

"Hm…" She looks away before answering. "He's a little more unresponsive than usual..."

Basil feels a pinch of pain in his stomach.

"I wasn't able to talk to him since… the funeral." Kel fidgets a little. "I want to let him know he can count on us!"

Sunny's mom mouth corner's change to a soft, yet warm smile.

"Well, I'm sure he would appreciate to hear from you two, at least."

She steps back, opening the door welcoming the boys in. Kel perks up and calls Basil with a hand gesture. They enter the house.

"He's at their- at his room."

At the living room, the boys can see the glass door that leads to the backyard, highlighted with a menacing reddish orange light of the last sunrays. Kel immediatelly changes his attention to Sunny's mom back, while Basil has a hard time moving away his focus from it. They arrive at the staircase. Kel doesn't think twice and steps halfway through it. Basil freezes.

"Basil?" Kel calls out for him.

Basil tries to hide his anxiety and replies "C-coming!"

They are at front of Sunny's room, Sunny's mother a little further, to give the boys some space. Kel knocks the door, but this time, more gently.

"Sunny? It's Kel and Basil!" No reply.

Basil gives a quick look back at the staircase and Something starts crawling around him.

"Sunny." Kel starts again, leaning his hand on the door. "Sorry for not talking to you until now. But you know that we're here for you, right?" Kel sends a signal to Basil by raising his eyebrows and tilting his head towards the door, asking him to join.

Basil desperately tries to find the words. But the truth is, he wasn't expecting Sunny's mom, much less Kel's presence. It's not that he didn't have anything to say. He couldn't say anything he wanted to.

The creeping silence started to bother Kel, so he continued instead.

"Oh, I know! If you want, we can have a sleepover!" No reply. "Uh, it doesn't need to be anything fancy! We don't need to play games or eat snacks… We don't even need to talk. Just have each other's company, y'know?"

Kel smiled as he placed his other hand and ear to the door, waiting for the answer. He believed his idea was too good to be turned down. No reply.

"Sunny?" More silence.

Sunny's mom sighs, ready to call Kel and Basil back. Kel moves away from the door. He starts playing with his hoodie strings, looking a little less bright than before.

"Don't worry about it, it's okay." He did his best to hold a smile "I totally understand if you just need time alone."

"…like Hero." He completes under his breath, almost a whisper.

Another wave of silence. Is Sunny ignoring them? Is he even listening? Basil's mind go blank as he stares at the door.

"We'll come back tomorrow!" Kel bursts. The "we" took Basil by surprise.

"R-right! We'll be back tomorrow, Sunny." Basil faintly addes to the farewell.

Kel gives one last knock on the door, and starts walking away. Basil follows him.

"Oh, kids…"

"Can we really come back tomorrow?" Basil asks.

"Oh, yes, you may come… I'll let you know if he's available or not." It wasn't very reassuring.

After one last goodbye, the two boys leave the house. A few steps later, they stop in front of Kel's house. Before Basil could say anything, Kel apologizes.

"I'm sorry you couldn't say much. I hogged all the time for myself."

"N-not really. I wasn't sure what to say, anyway…"

"Isn't it strange, though? Sunny… He doesn't like to be alone, why would he…?" Kel stops and shakes his head. "We just have to try again tomorrow!" Kel smiles seems forced, Basil notices.

"W-well… See you tomorrow, then?"

"No, wait- let me walk you home!"

"O-okay." Basil let him be.

In the middle of the walk, Kel turns to Basil.

"I still didn't talk to Aubrey either. Did you?" Basil shakes his head. "I thought about visiting her too, but- I think I'm the last person she would want to see." Basil thought the same of himself, but kept silent about it.

Kel is a open book, he has no reason to hide his emotions and usually can be very blunt with his honesty. But something feels off today. Or since then. That day. Looking better, Basil notices Kel was using a navy colored hoodie at least two sizes larger than it should be. A small letter "H" was embroidered on it. Kel would use passed down clothes from Hero, but this one was clearly borrowed before its time.

He was lonely too.

Soon, Basil's home is right around the corner.

"Hm, actually." Basil starts. "I promised grandma I was going to buy a few things at the convenience store. Do you want to tag along…?" Kel snorts in reply. Was Basil trying to cheer him up?

"Sure, let's go! But let's be quick, mom won't like if I come home too late." He skips ahead.

"Wait! The store is on the opposite direction!"

"Oh!!"

///

It's night. Between the interval of a lightpost to another, Kel can't stand the silence anymore.

"Aah, I should have brought some pocket money!" He comes closer to Basil, using his hand to shield the conversation like he was about to confide a secret. "But I already spent all my allowance."

Basil wasn't expecting chit-chat, but wasn't too surprised either. It kind of gave him a sense of normality.

"…Hero always scolds me for spending it too quickly.

Like everything that happened was just a bad dream…

"But Mari would always treat me instead!"

A shiver passes through Basil's spine.

"Are you cold?" Kel opens his arms as invinting for a hug.

"No, I'm okay!"

Kel stops and rewinds what he just said.

"Sorry."

"N-no, don't be." Basil almost regrets calling Kel over. The uncomfortable silence is back, until Kel broke it again.

"I'll be more careful with my money from now on."

"?"

"So I can be the one who treat everyone out! How is that?"

"Are you sure you'll be able to do that?"

"What? You understimate me!!"

Basil slips a weak smile. Kel smiles back, like he planned it from the beggining. They continue their walk.

///

At the convenience store, Basil goes straight to what he went for. To kill time, Kel explores around until something take his attention at the candy area. Basil approaches too see what was so interesting. Kel only notices his presence after a while.

"Eek!" Kel was startled.

"…Are you going to ask for borrowed money?" Basil teases.

"No!! I was just looking… See, there's everyone's favorite flavor today…"

Basil identifies each flavor and silently pick them up.

They leave the store and Kel lifts his lollipop over his head.

"Basil, you're the best!" The compliment take Basil aback.

"It's just candy…"

"Yeah, it's just candy." Basil didn't expect him to agree so fast.

"It's the thought that counts!"

Basil just nods.

///

They arrive at Basil's house again.

"We're here!" Kel announces the obvious.

"Y-yeah."

Basil moves ahead to the door.

"See you tomorrow!!"

Basil stops.

"S-sure."

///

Basil is welcomed by his grandma with tea and cookies. Putting the groceries aside and with a cup in hands, he stares at the lollipops over the kitchen's table. Strawberry, watermelon and grape. He thinks back when Kel pointed that everyones flavors were available. All six of them. He shrugs the thought away.

Kel is on his way back, already appreciating his orange lollipop, while waving the cola flavored one in the air. He wonders when he'll be able to deliver the little gift. He wonders when he'll be able to talk to Hero again. Or to any of his friends for that matter. He shrugs the thought away.

THE END