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builtbybrokenbells · 2 years ago

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It’s Never Over

A blowout resulting in an untimely breakup between y/n and her long term boyfriend leaves both of them broken. A year and a half later, after nothing but radio silence and unrequited love, they find themselves face to face once more. Both grown up, living completely different lives, but still hurting over mistakes their younger selves made, and still hopelessly head over heels for each other. They find themselves caught up in the struggle of choice; to allow history to repeat itself, or let the memory of their past fade away into nothing.

listen while reading: lover, you should’ve come over - Jeff Buckley

Pairing: josh kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 17.7k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, sweet soft makeup sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering, praise, pet names, body worshiping ig if you squint, breakups/breakup talk, angst (with a happy ending 😁), mentions of drugs, drinking, sad josh (needs a warning of its own), crying, some yelling, sweetness, tooth rotting fluff, sorry if I miss any!!!

so somebody requested some josh angst and i just couldn’t help myself 🤭 a very happy ending, pinky promise. you guys know me well enough to know I’m a slut for happy endings. also sorry it turned out so long, i HAVE to stop it with the literal novels. i just got super attached to the characters and got carried away (what else is new). i also wrote this mostly in one sitting so I had to trim a lot and add things here and there, but i hope this is satisfactory!! also not fantastically edited, cause I’m super lazy 🫣 as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!

The silk of your dress clung to your skin, the slit in the leg just promiscuous enough to catch eyes, but not enough to be uncomfortably exposed. The deep emerald green was elegant, a fantastic choice on your part. Your hair hung loosely over your shoulders, the scent of your perfume radiating around you. You were dressed to the nines, much like the other women pooling into the lobby of the five-star hotel. Even so, you had never felt more out of place. As you anxiously awaited the progression to the main event, you couldn’t help but check over your shoulders every few minutes. You were hoping to catch sight of any familiar faces before they saw you, in hopes of a head start to hide away. You straightened your hair out and fixed the straps of your dress, trying to pass a few more minutes without focusing on your nervousness.

It was your first time back in Nashville after a year and a half of avoiding it. You’d moved to New York some time ago and hadn’t looked back since. Your hometown was greatly missed, but for no reasons that were obvious. You didn’t miss your family; you shared phone calls and texts, which was perfectly fine for you. They’d always been a bit hard on the head, raving about appearance and sophistication rather than fun and happiness, so the distance wasn’t terribly troublesome. Your siblings were scattered across the world, anyway, so the change in location really had no effect on the relationships you previously had with them. The town itself wasn’t troublesome to leave behind, either. You had gotten your fill of it in your first twenty-some years of life, and it was quite refreshing to get out into the world and see something new.

What you did miss, though, was the boy you left behind. Although, it wasn’t a choice to leave him; he’d made that decision for you, and without a hesitation, too. You never expected him to come with you while you followed your dream. It would be selfish to expect him to leave everything behind to chase you around the world. But, you did hope that there was a part of him that wanted to make it work despite the distance, like you’d done for him countless times. When you told him you had to go, that the move was something you desperately needed, all of the love he ever had for you seemed to disappear. He turned cold and distant, and ended things without a second thought.

“Please, Josh, just listen to me for one minute!” You begged, tears forming in your eyes. His usually joyous face was nothing short of indifferent towards you, now.

“I don’t have anything to talk about with you, y/n.” The words were equal to a stab to the chest. His eyes were looking anywhere but you, secretly afraid he’d break down and tell you everything he was holding back.

“You’re going to throw the last three years out the window over this? Without a compromise, or a conversation, or anything at all?” There was a few feet of space between you, both scared of breaking the invisible boundary.

“You’re leaving! You pack up all of your shit and move in with me, just to tell me a few months later that you’re moving across the country? You’ve known for a while, and you’re just telling me now?” He finally broke, the pain in his eyes clearer than anything you’d ever seen. The accusatory tone was infuriating, as if he was sentencing you with a crime you hadn’t committed.

“I haven’t known for a while, Josh. I just got the email today! I applied thinking there was no way in hell I would ever hear back, but I did, and I have to go. This is my dream, you know that. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted.” You pleaded for him to see reason.

“The only thing, huh?” You could tell the statement landed wrong, feeling guilty for even making him think that was what you meant. “I tell you all of the time you can come work with us, design for us; we’d be more than happy to have you there.”

“I can’t do that! I can’t always be in the background of your fame. I can’t backpack off of your success, live in the shadows of my boyfriend forever. I need to make a name for myself, to prove to everyone that I can do it on my own, without any handouts.” You explained. He nodded, barely responding to anything you had to say about it.

“That’s fine, y/n. Go, live your dream. I’m not stopping you.” He sounded defeated, like he was giving up.

“What about us?” You whispered, your voice hoarse from the hours of back-and-fourth yelling.

“Clearly you weren’t thinking about me when you made the decision, so why are you worried about it, now?” Your heart broke, the tears you were holding back finally falling down your cheeks. “You can go, but I’m not going to wait for you to come back.” Silence hung thick in the air, and for the first time in your long history, it was uncomfortable.

“So that’s it?” You snapped. “I can sit at home while you travel the world, wait for you to come home, not know if you’re sleeping with the millions of girls that throw themselves at you? That’s fine? But the minute I want to get out of here, escape the shitty 9-5 lifestyle and do something for myself, I’m the bad guy? I’m not asking you to drop everything and come with me, I’m just asking you to love me enough to support me while I do it!” You could see regret flash in his eyes, both of your emotions running high and clouding your judgement. When he remained silent, you got more than enough of an answer. “Okay,” you let out a small, humourless laugh. “I’ll get my shit, then. If this is how you want to go about it, fine by me. You’ll never have to see me again.” You turned towards the hallway, preparing yourself to pack up your entire life.

“Y/n,” he said, stopping you for a moment. “Just stay, please.” You could hear tears in his voice, too.

“So I can sit around and wait for you for the rest of my life?” Your voice cracked, effortlessly showing him all of the emotion you were trying not to let out. “I can’t put everything on pause because you don’t want me to go, Josh. I might never get a chance like this ever again. I don’t want to leave you, but this is my life. My dream.”

“I’m supposed to be a part of your life, too.”

“Not if you make me choose.”

“So you’ve already made up your mind?” The accusation fuelled a fire in you.

“I was hoping to have both, but I guess we can’t have everything we want.” He let out a long exhale.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He grumbled. “You’re leaving to chase after a possibility, y/n. You’re gonna move out there with no real offer lined up? You could get out there and end up at another shitty office job. Alone, away from everything you know. I’m here. I love you, and I’m certain about that.” Your stomach sank at his words, filled with dread knowing that he didn’t believe in you.

“You may be, but I’m not.” You scoffed. “If you love me, you’d support me. You know how bad I want this. You’re not being fair.” You waited for a moment, hoping he’d say something else. When you were met with another staggering silence, you stumbled away from him with your heart in your stomach and your head in your hands. You left your house key on the bed before walking away forever.

That was the last time you spoke to him. A few days after that, you got on a plane to New York and spent months trying to rid yourself of his memory. Now, over a year later, every essence of your being was still plagued with Josh Kiszka. You never got over him, you never moved on, and you never stopped thinking of him. He was the love of your life; the type of love that overshadowed any other emotion you could ever experience. Sure, you hated him, too, and a part of you hoped you’d never see him again, but there was a bigger part of you that longed for one more hug, or even just another smile. He was one of a kind, and nobody held a candle to him. He never texted, he never called, or even so much as liked a social media post. Sometimes, you wondered if you’d spend the rest of your life yearning for someone who barely remembered you existed.

As much as you still loved him, the hurt you held in your chest was debilitating. He let you walk out the door, no hint of hesitation. It killed you, because you’d spent years cheering him and his brothers on while they lived their dream, but he wasn’t willing to reciprocate for you. You hoped he would change his mind, but the only thing you’d received in your year away was radio silence. There was no solid proof that you ever existed to him aside from memory, and that’s what hurt you the most. You watched his life through pictures, his face gracing your phone screen with new press releases and album announcements, sending you spiralling down the Kiszka rabbit hole even further. You listened to their music every now and then, even watched a few interviews, just to remind yourself of what his voice sounded like. You were well aware that their new album was bound to release within the next few months. It served as another reminder of how great his life was going without you in it.

You hadn’t done too bad for yourself, either. The move to New York stemmed from a submission to be considered for a spot in New York Fashion Week. You’d applied as a model for the event, with slim expectations for a response. When they responded to your headshots, it kickstarted the fire in you to follow your passion. Once you arrived, you modelled and found that taste of life you’d been longing for so badly. You had the opportunity to meet big names you had been dreaming of meeting your whole life, and somehow even managed to pick up a mentor to help you achieve your biggest dream: design. After a few months of solely shadowing her, then a year of sleepless nights and some blood, sweat, and tears, you were finally set to release your own line of designer clothing. Of course, it was partnered with your mentor company, but it still adorned your name.

Most of your presale items were already sold out, giving you an overwhelming sense of pride. Big celebrities were in line to own your clothing, eager enough to buy it that they were ordering months ahead. As much as it hurt leaving everything behind when you moved to New York, your life was more than you ever could have imagined it, now. Still, with all of the financial success, a part of you still felt like it was missing. Somewhere amidst all of the fame, you realized that you may have given up a bit too much to get where you were. You tried not to focus on it, knowing that dwelling on the past would only limit you from the future. If Josh Kiszka was meant to be yours, he would be. If not, life would go on. You had to understand that, because if you believed anything else, you were sure it would kill you.

The crowd began to filter away in front of you, letting you know the doors to the event were opening. The cameras outside were still flashing, meaning guests were still arriving. You were thankful you had a room booked upstairs so you could avoid the paparazzi. As much as you loved your work, the galas and celebrations could be a bit much by times. You almost preferred the quietness of the design room over the runway, now. At first, the pictures and cheers and magazine covers were a thrill. They’d begun to lose their novelty almost as soon as it started, just the same as the parties. When your boss handed you a plane ticket a few days prior, you questioned why you were heading to Nashville. She’d wasted no time in telling you about the Gala you would be not only attending, but speaking at. Your stomach was sick at the idea. Some of it was due to the public speaking, but more so because Nashville was the last place you wanted to be. But, part of the job was to keep up appearances, so you had no choice but to oblige.

The question of Nashville in specific brought up a whole world of information. Apparently, the success of your line of clothing had caused some speculation of expansion. That morning, the company announced your own outlet store opening in your hometown. They thought it as a gift to you, but it was more of a nightmare. That meant a lot more time in Nashville, even permanently, for a while. Also, more appearances, and more of a chance to run into the boy you’d rather run away from. Still, your appreciation of the gesture was unmatched; knowing they had faith in you to have your own outlets meant more than anything in the world. You felt like the success you’d been searching for had finally rewarded you. So, you hopped on a plane and threw on your best dress. You left your hotel room with big smiles and the determination to forget any uncertainty. Still, you were well aware that a gala in Nashville would indisputably include musicians. That meant there was a larger chance of seeing Josh than you were particularly comfortable with.

You followed the sea of people into the large room, noticing it was decorated in hints of golds and silvers, really showcasing elegance. The stage was lit up with low lights, hinting towards the anticipated guest speakers. Soft music flowed through the sound system, enveloping you in a warm embrace. Music was the best way to drown out the other noise, and in your life, there was always noise. “You know, there’s more to life than caviar and blow.” You looked to your side, focusing on your company for the night. You laughed at her comment once you’d processed what she said. “I don’t think many people here know that.”

“It’s a tale of the rich, Liz. Most of these people were born on a bed of gold plated fish eggs and were shoved straight into generational drug addiction.” You smirked, eyes scanning the crowd. You knew your parents weren’t poor, but they were far from the families some of these people were born into. They had good reputations in the community, but not across the world. You weren’t impoverished, but would never have fathomed this type of money as a kid. As much as they cared about appearance, they were good parents. They raised you with love and strong morals, and you weren’t a stranger to struggle. They didn’t pay your way through life. What you got came from what you earned.

“Can you even imagine growing up this way? First birthdays spent at the Met Gala and graduation parties thrown in Venice?” She chuckled, but disbelief was present in her tone. Liz was a university student you’d hand picked to hire after her graduation. She doubled as an assistant and one of your models, but she was more than that. Over the months, she’d slowly turned into your best friend. She wasn’t much younger than you, only by about three years. Her resume caught your eye faster than any other, and you’d called her almost instantly. She just wanted experience in the fashion world, but you were certain that if things went smooth over the next few months, you’d ensure she’d be given her shares in the company. She worked extremely hard, had fantastic insight, along with being bright, kind, and hilarious. She kept you on your toes and brought you back to reality when you needed it.

“I suppose if you don’t know anything else, it’s completely normal.” You theorized. “I don’t ever want my kids to grow up that way. I don’t want them to be scared of playing outside and getting dirty. I don’t want money to be their main concern. And, if I had to suffer through the American public school system, they will too.” You laughed. She joined in, agreeing completely. You turned your head towards her, noticing the material of her dress was misplaced around her shoulders. “Mm, hold on,” you said, reaching over to her. She faced you, already knowing what the look on your face meant. You straightened it out, taking a small step back to double check. “There. Can’t have you in disarray, darling. Sure way to get us kicked out.” She grinned, picking up on your joking tone immediately.

“You just want your designer dresses to look perfect.”

“I’m nothing if not vain.” You both shared another laugh. You noticed a photographer making his way around the room through the corner of your eye. “Lipstick check.” You said, panicked. You flashed her your teeth.

“You’re good.” She repeated the action back to you.

“You, too.” You let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “Can’t wait to get the pictures and introductions over with so we can start drinking.”

“You don’t need any generational alcoholism; you got that all by yourself.” She chided. You chuckled, eyes searching for a server with champagne. That was one thing that was always for certain; no matter how mind-numbing the gala’s were, there was always high-end alcohol floating around somewhere.

“It’s not all pretty patterns and cross stitching, you know. Have to drown the demons somehow.” Your conversation was cut short by a camera being shoved in your faces. You gave your best public smile, the kind where your lips were upturned but you looked a little dead behind the eyes. Somehow in the celebrity world, that equated to elegance. You posed with Liz, giving the camera a bit of a show. Eventually, you broke and gave a real smile, but only for a moment. Once the photographer moved away, you relaxed your posture, feeling a bit more human.

“Does fame always entail looking soulless?”

“Yeah, pretty much. You’ll get used to it.” You mumbled, eyes falling to the table that was overflowing with food. Your eyes lit up at the sight of self-serve champagne flutes. You grabbed Liz’s hand, bringing her along with you as you advanced towards it. You picked up a glass, immediately taking a large gulp out of it. The nude colour of your lipstick stained the rim, claiming it as your own. Liz grabbed one too, also indulging in the bubbly liquid. “You don’t have to look soulless all of the time. Just when you’re posing, or on the walk, or if you’re walking down the street, or at the supermarket.” You listed, humour radiating from you. “Interviews give you the chance to show a little bit of life. Takes the world as a shock, you know, when they realize you actually have a personality.” You continued the earlier conversation.

“That seems a bit odd, doesn’t it?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. But it’s what I was taught.” You gave a shrug. “I think people find power attractive, and that’s kind of what you encase in pictures when you look like that. At least that’s what I picked up from it.”

“Makes sense, I guess. Also makes the interviews more memorable, too. People cling to the emotion ‘cause they feel like they finally get to know some part of you. Feel connected, even.”

“Exactly, sweetheart. See? You’re gonna have my job in no time.”

“Oh, don’t say that, you’ve got at least two more good years before people get bored of you.” You couldn’t help the cackle that fell from your lips, finding the statement hilarious mostly because of its truth. The spotlight only shines for so long before it’s begging to move on. “I don’t want your job. I’d like to work with you forever, I think.” She picked up an appetizer from the table, eyeing it suspiciously before popping it in her mouth.

“Don’t you think I’d be more fun when I go batshit crazy because I don’t know what to do with myself after the fame?”

“No, because I’d have to take care of you.” She said without missing a beat. “I know the rest of the ass-kissers at the office won’t. They just want their five minutes of fame. They don’t give a shit about you.” You hummed an agreement, knowing she was speaking the truth. True connection in the world of money and power was rare, and she was the only person you’d ever felt it with aside from your own mentor. It was a constant struggle of use people or get used, and it was exhausting. As much passion as you had for your work, you were always the first to admit that the industry was ruthless.

“Yeah, sometimes I feel like Julius Caesar walking in there. Waiting for the day they all get together and stab me.” You took another sip from your glass.

“Well, they’ll probably stab me, too. At least we can go to hell, together.” You raised your glass as a cheers to the statement. She gently clicked her glass against yours in response. “Jokes aside, you are a good boss. They all have great things to say about you, so you don’t have to worry about planned assassination, yet.”

“Fantastic news. I’ve been preparing for it for weeks, now.” You smiled. Just as you finished speaking, the lights dimmed a little further. You paid no mind to it, assuming it was just a cue for everyone to gather around in preparation for the first speech. “I want to be a good boss. I don’t want to be the person everybody is scared of. I do what I do because I love it, not for the money. If I can make people fall in love with it, too, then I know I did something worthwhile. That’s the end goal.” You drained the last of your beverage, placing your glass on the tray to be taken away. You immediately went for another, needing the liquid courage for when the stage was yours.

“You do a good job. That office is full of inspiration. I never felt out of place, even when I had no experience. Made me feel like I was meant to be there, rather than just meant to work for you.” You let a smile out, one laced with genuineness.

“Cause you are, Liz. I didn’t hire you because i thought you’d stroke my ego. I hired you because I knew you’d challenge me. There’s no pride in getting your way all of the time. We all need a little criticism to thrive.”

“It’s insane, y/n. I remember being in my grad year and hearing about the new model catching the attention of everyone at Fashion Week. Less than a year later, you were working with one of the biggest designers in America, and starting your own brand. You made the industry your bitch, and when you hired me I was terrified of you. I thought anyone who climbed the ladder that fast had to be evil. But you’re just a person. My friend, even. You respect everyone, from the big bosses to the janitors. It’s very admirable.”

“Don’t stroke my ego, I just told you that’s not why I hired you.” You chuckled. “I was the same as everyone else, too. I didn’t come from money, I had to do the dirty work, I got my heart broken, and knocked down a few times, too. I can recognize what I have now had a lot to do with luck, even if I do have the talent. That’s just the way the industry works. But, everyone plays a part in success, even if you’re the one changing the garbages, signing the legal documents, or have your name sewn into the tag.” She watched you in admiration as you spoke, almost shaking her head in disbelief. Despite the tiny age gap, she always felt like she could get the wisdom she craved from you. She looked up to you, even when you told her not to. In your eyes, you and her were the same. You wished she’d start to see it that way, too. “You’ll realize I’m just me when I get up there and stumble over all of my words.” You chuckled.

“You’ll look hot while you do it, though.” She gave you a nudge with your elbow. You laughed, feeling redness rise to your cheeks.

“You think so?” You appreciated the compliment more than she realized. Deep down, you were hoping to look good, just in case Josh happened to be floating around the event.

“Oh, yeah. That dress was the right choice.” You both fell into a silence, meticulously people watching. By the time the first speech was over with, you were buzzing with nervousness for your turn on the stage. You realized just how many people were there as you observed the crowed, understanding that if you messed up, you’d be the laughing stock of the event. Liz picked up on your anxiety, soothing you with small jokes and comments intermittently. It was helping slightly, knowing that you weren’t there alone, at least.

You’d done a lot of behind the scenes work over the last year. You did a few shows, not minding the camera in your face because you didn’t have to say anything. There was no worry of stutters or misplaced rambling. Only recently had you started speaking publicly, beginning with interviews and press conferences. Now, they were integrating you into a spokesperson. As your mentor told you, your work is nothing without publicity. You needed to create the illusion of connection, make people believe they know you, make them feel appreciated. That was the key to success. You spoke at a few gala’s, but this was the largest one to date with some of the most popular faces. The alcohol was giving you a bit of a sense of confidence, and whether it was fake or not didn’t matter; you had it, and you were going to use it.

A hand on your shoulder sent a jolt of shock through you, as it was unfamiliar, yet strangely comforting. Somewhere in your soul, you recognized it without even having to look at the face. “I always told you green was your colour, sunshine.” The tone, the dialect, formulation of the words, even the barely noticeable Michigan accent at the end of the sentence was painstakingly reminiscent for you. Your stomach plummeted, heart pounding against your rib cage as you turned towards the voice. Your gaze connected with his, sending a wave of emotion through you more powerful than most you’d felt before.

“Jake,” you breathed. His lips upturned into a smile, unable to contain his excitement to see you.

“I missed you.” He said, wasting no time pulling you into a hug. As much of a shock as it was to see him, you couldn’t help but melt into the hold. As angry as you were with his brother, Jake had always been your best friend through the years of dating Josh. When your relationship came to an untimely end, so did your friendship. You’d grown estranged from the boy in the same way you had with Josh, and it killed you just the same, too. You spent days deliberating reaching out to him, just to check in, but you didn’t want to overstep boundaries. Instead, you mastered the art of becoming a stranger with him, too.

“You had time to miss me with all of that music you’re making?” You teased, pulling back but not fully letting go of him. Your hand rested on his bicep, hesitant to release him in case he slipped away. “An album and another world tour coming up, I’m surprised you have time to think of anything other than that guitar.”

“Always have time to think about you,” he said, trying to pass it off as a joke. You could see a flicker of hurt cross his eyes, the small emotion feeling like a stab to the chest. “What about you, though? Your own brand and an outlet store here in Nashville?”

“So you keep up to date with me?” You grinned.

“Seems like you do, too.” He chuckled. “I, uh… I’m proud of you, Sunny.” The words settled in your bones like cement, weighing you down. As kind as they were, everything seemed to hurt when it was coming from his mouth. Maybe it was the way he said it, or the way his tone of voice reminded you so much of the boy you forced yourself to stop thinking about. Maybe it was his mannerisms, or the face, because when he turned his head a certain angle, all you could see was Josh. Whatever it was, it hurt, and it hurt achingly bad.

“I’m proud of you guys, too. The single was phenomenal. I always knew you guys were destined for something big. I think I can even see the rock and roll hall of fame in your future.” You smiled.

“One can dream.” He laughed. “I saw you were almost completely sold out of pre-orders. Everybody has been talking about you. It’s crazy.”

“You checked out my website?” You asked, a fizzle of excitement sparking in your chest. He scoffed at the question.

“I think we were the first to put an order in.” He was telling the truth, you could sense the genuine nature of his words just by his eyes. “The men’s line is super cool, by the way.”

“Oh,” you squeaked. “You got something?” Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment.

“Of course we did, y/n. We all got something.” You wanted to press further about his statement of ‘all’, but you pushed the thought away.

“I thought you guys would have forgotten about me by now.” You admitted. A bewildered look flashed across his face.

“Forget you?” He asked, unable to believe you’d ever think that. “Sunny, we think about you almost every day. We talk about you all of the time.” You swallowed hard at the new found information. “I saw your name on the program and I knew I couldn’t let you get away without saying hi, at least. I’ve been looking for you all night. Recognized you as soon as I saw you over here. Could spot you from a mile away. I know… I know things ended pretty poorly, but the love is still there. That’ll never go away.” You almost didn’t know how to answer, wanting to pry more from him, but also not wanting to know at all.

“Is… is Josh here, too?” You finally asked, knowing the answer before he replied.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Is he,” you paused yourself, unsure if the inquiries were pushing a boundary. “okay? I mean, like obviously, but you know.” You rambled, embarrassing yourself slightly.

“He’s Josh.” Jake assured you, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “He misses you. He’s the first to check all of the fashion magazines to see if they’re talking about you. He hasn’t been… quite the same, since everything. He still laughs and drinks and rambles, but he’s a bit more distant, I think.”

“Oh,” you repeated your same proclamation from earlier.

“If you feel up to it, maybe stop and say hello. Even if you don’t talk to him, Sam and Danny would be over the moon to see you.”

“Uh, I don’t know, Jake.” A humourless laugh fell from your lips. “Some things are just better left as is.”

“I don’t think this one is,” he said, eyes boring into you. “It’s completely up to you, sunshine.” He said, smiling warmly to assure you he meant it. Before you could respond, the announcer called out your name; in the height of emotion, you must have missed your introduction. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye, okay?” Jake said, ushering you to the stage. You nodded, downing the last of your champagne before bustling towards the stairs. You were mindful of the skirt of your dress as you walked, fearing you may trip on it and ruin the entrance. Once you had both feet planted safely on the stage, you took to the mic stand.

“Thank you for that kind introduction,” You smiled off to the side of the stage at the host, assuming he had said something kind like he had for the other speakers. Otherwise, you would look a bit like a fool. “It’s fantastic to be here tonight.” You took in a breath, trying not to focus on the crowd staring up at you. “I spent a long time debating on what to say when I got here, tonight. If I’m being completely transparent, I’m still not sure. The boss told me to get up here and tell you about myself, so that’s what I’m going to do.” You started, eyes settling on Liz for some sense of security. You used her as a focal point until your comfortability grew. “It’s intimidating getting on stage and talking about success. Especially when I feel far behind in that department, sometimes. It doesn’t seem to matter how many sales are made, or how many congratulations are spewed; we always seem to be our biggest critic, and I haven’t been able to break that habit, yet. Growing up in Nashville, there was always buzz about the greats and the up and coming stars; this whole city, and state, is full of pride, and for good reason. To think that I can be considered part of it has been mind-blowing. Knowing the support I have from home and all over the world has been incredibly eye opening, and a bit of a confidence boost, too.” You flashed a smile, causing a chorus of laughter from the audience.

“Just over a year ago, I was packing my bags and riddled with anxiety at the thought of jumping on a plane and flying away from everything I’d ever known. Somehow, by the grace of the universe, I’d been selected to participate in New York Fashion Week. When I moved there, there was no true promise of a career, but the publicity certainly seemed like a good place to start. As I flew away from here, all I could hear in my head was a million reasons to turn around and stay home. There was one voice of reason in the swarm of negativity that pushed me to follow my dream, and I’m so thankful I listened to it.” You paused, regaining your breath before you continued on. “When I arrived, I got to meet people I’d been admiring for my entire life; names that I never thought I would get a chance to speak about, let alone speak to them. I walked with pride, even in my ignorance. I had no idea what I was doing, I was just happy to be there. Somehow, in my clumsiness and lack of grace, someone saw potential. I was lucky enough to be graced with a mentor who never gave up on me; one who taught me everything I know. She is my rock, and my mother away from home. I owe every success to her, and I have no shame in saying that.” There was an awe from the crowd, appreciating the sweetness.

“She taught me design, sure, but more so than that, she taught me dedication, pride and the true meaning of hard work.” Another laugh sounded. “After a few months of relentless effort, it started to pay off. A few small companies picked up my designs, using them for miscellaneous projects. But one day, in the dreariness of winter, I was given my most valuable gift; the offer to launch my own line of clothing. Of course, partnered with my parent company, but my own work, with my heart and soul stitched into the seams. I still struggle to believe it’s real.” There was a chorus of cheers at the statement. You gave a smile, rose dusting your cheeks. “In the time from the early stages of production to now, I’ve made incredible memories. There were hard times, lots of tears and challenges, and even a couple nights leaving me with the desire to give up. But I pushed through, persevering only due to the strength that my team gives me every day. Every person I work with played a part in me getting here, and it would be incredibly dishonourable to walk away without thanking them for their hard work, too. I was lucky enough to bring along my assistant, Liz.” You pointed to her in the front row. “She’s been my driving force, my best friend, and my motivation. I have no doubt that she’ll take over for me eventually, or even be bigger than what I am, now. If anyone deserves applause, it’s her.” The crowd gave another round of cheers, causing the younger girl to erupt in a blush, smiling and waving slightly. When the crowd died down, you continued.

“I’m beyond grateful to say the presales for the brand have nearly been sold out already. That is almost unfathomable for me to think about. This morning our company issued an announcement, which I’m sure some have heard by now. After months of relentless efforts, and the dedication from my fantastic colleagues, in addition to launching this new line of clothing, our first outlet will be opening here in Nashville. We thought it only right for my hometown to be the first place to have access to our store. I’m at a loss of words at the moment; I cannot express my gratitude enough.” A round of applause sounded. You couldn’t hold back your grin, looking around the room at all of the beaming faces.

“I want to sincerely thank everyone here for giving me the time to speak. Telling my story still feels very odd, like I shouldn’t have a story to tell. I never expected to be here in my lifetime, let alone at the young age that I am. To be considered a part of Nashville’s pride is an extraordinary feeling, and proof that hard work does pay off. I would be nothing without this city, and to see the love it has for me is a beautiful thing. I also want to say thank you to all of the friends of the past, ones who I don’t necessarily speak with anymore, but I always hold close to me, no matter the distance. There’s a few in the audience tonight, ones who will forever hold a place in my heart. They helped me get here just as much as anyone else.” You gave a soft smile, trying to locate Jake. You caught sight of him, making sure he knew who you were talking about. You ignored the bodies that stood next to him, unsure if you could keep going if you caught Josh’s gaze. “So with that, I won’t keep you any longer. Enjoy your night of festivities. The food is fantastic, and so are the drinks. Thank you for allowing me to share my celebrations with you all, and here’s to a hundred more outlet stores across the world.”

As you stepped off the stage, you were finally able to fully catch your breath. The clapping and cheering didn’t fully dissipate until you rejoined Liz by the beverages. “You did fantastic!” She raved, handing you a new glass of champagne.

“I feel like I’m going to throw up.” You breathed, fanning yourself with your hand. You grabbed the champagne with your other, wanting to drink away the feeling of standing on stage. “This is so stupid, don’t you think?” You asked her. “A bunch of rich people bragging about how rich they are.”

“That’s only some of them. Others are people who worked hard and want to celebrate the success. That’s where you come in.” She gave you a pat on the shoulder. “Thanks for the mention. Made me feel special.”

“You are special,” you laughed. “Takes a certain type of person to be able to put up with me all day.”

“Mm, you seem pretty widely liked. Who was that guy you were talking to?” She pried. You grimaced at the memory of the interaction.

“Uh, that was ex-boyfriends twin brother.” You explained. Her eyes widened at the knowledge, almost as if she didn’t believe you. You were surprised she didn’t catch on. Well, more surprised that she wasn’t eavesdropping. If you were her, you would be.

“Like ex-boyfriend who broke up with you because you moved to New York?”

“That’s the one.” You nodded. She knew about Josh, but mostly just the basics. She was well aware of the constant internal battle of still loving him and hating his guts. “Jake was my best friend, too, though. Just ‘cause me and Josh ended badly doesn’t mean I don’t love him.” You shrugged.

“So do we hate Josh today, or love him?” She raised an eyebrow.

“To be determined.” You grabbed a napkin off the table and one of the more appetizing looking foods.

“Is he here?” You nodded.

“Whole band is. I’m not surprised. They have an album and a world tour coming up.”

“So you keep tabs on them,” she smirked.

“Yeah, obviously. You wouldn’t?”

“Fair enough.” She conceded. “Are you going to talk to him?”

You didn’t answer, mostly because you weren’t sure yourself. You had no idea if you wanted to talk to him, and no idea if he wanted to talk to you. You weren’t mad at her for being curious. She’d been trying to set you up on dates the entire time she’d known you, but you always turned them down. She only clued in to why after you told her about Josh. You had no interest in dating anyone, mostly because you were certain nobody would ever compare to him. The other part of you was terrified of getting hurt like that again. When Josh let you walk out without as much as a shred of hesitation, it shattered you. He was everything; the one thing in your life you’d ever been 100% certain of. Leaving him behind was gut wrenching, but knowing he didn’t care enough to fight for you was worse. You always believed he loved you enough to not care about the distance; the few tours he’d done while you were dating never proved to be an issue. You had a hard time swallowing the truth that he didn’t mind the distance as long as he wasn’t the one waiting at home.

“I don’t know, Liz.” You sighed. “It’s been a long time. I think it’s better to just let it go.”

“If you still love him this much after all of this time, maybe you shouldn’t.” You placed the flute to your lips, tipping your head back and taking another long drink of champagne.

“You’ll learn soon enough not to listen to your heart all of the time. Brain knows best.” You reminded. “And stop being an instigator, you little shit.” You laughed. She smiled, but her eyes were following something behind you. You furrowed your eyebrows at her sudden disinterest in you, finding it odd.

“Better turn your heart off, then.” She let out a quick mumble of words. She’d recognized him just from the similarities to his brother. There was no mistaking who he was, or who he was intending to talk to.

“What?” You questioned, turning your head to look in the direction of her gaze. As soon as you did, you wished you hadn’t.

Your heart sped, stomach erupting into nervous butterflies. Your palms were sweating and your breath was stuck in your throat. Josh was there, approaching you with intent. He looked different; his hair was fluffier, shaved down on the sides. He had facial hair, too, although not much. He really looked like he’d grown up since the last time you’d seen him. But, if you had to admit it, you did, too. No more kids pretending to be grown ups with too many hopes and dreams; real adults with real professions. Adults that admittedly, had been very stupid. Adults that were still very much hurting over the mistakes their younger selves made. The difference 18 months can make was staggering, you realized.

His confidence faltered once he caught your eyes. He was certain he was going to fall to his knees, weak just from the sight of you in front of him again. As he walked, he debated turning around, pretending he’d never seen you at all. But, he was certain there was a gleam of hope in your eye, and that drove him to keep going. “I’ll catch up with you later,” Liz said, quickly shuffling away to give you a moment of privacy. By the time she was out of sight, he was in front of you. The scent of incense and lingering cologne hit you like a ton of bricks. It was a scent you’d been craving for a long time, unmistakably Josh. Unmistakably home. The both of you stood, unsure of where to start. The emotion was too intense for a simple hello, but the uncertainty limited you both from saying anything else.

You looked over his face, taking in his features, studying him as if you were trying to memorize him all over again. He did look different, his jaw a bit more prominent and overall looked a bit more serious than he used to. Still, under the new facade, he was in there. The Josh you fell in love with was undoubtedly standing in front of you, just rebranded. You realized he couldn’t change enough to take away the type of love you had for him, for it was undying. “Is this the part where we cause a scene and I throw my drink at you?” You asked. The corner of his lips upturned into a smirk.

“If you feel the need to, I suppose I could understand why.” You returned the expression, happy to know that the spark was still there. At least to you, it was.

“How’ve you been, Josh?” You whispered. You were certain a flash of hurt crossed his eyes as the words left your lips. It was one that told you he thought too much of you for such simplistic small-talk. One that screamed rejection at the formalities, especially considering you both knew each other better than anyone else.

“Travelling the world.” He shrugged, but that’s all he gave. “What about you, Sunshine?” The sound of the nickname coming from his lips could have sent you straight to your knees. You had to take a long breath before you could respond, feeling the need to recover from his question.

“Dressing up and pretending I fit in with these people.”

“Pretending?” He challenged. “Could’ve fooled me.” You gave a soft smile. “That speech was phenomenal.”

“Suppose I’ve grown into the part, now.”

“Crazy what a year and a half can do, eh?” You caught his eyes, feeling your heart ache at the sea of brown you’d been missing so much. “Not like anyone was counting, though.” He added, trying to pass it off as a joke, afraid to let the vulnerability through.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “You look good.” You finally said, airing out what you wanted to admit. He chuckled.

“Have you looked in a mirror, lately? Success looks fantastic on you.” He breathed. “I didn’t think you could get any prettier, but you always seem to surprise me.” Your heart fluttered at the compliment.

“You’re all looking quite spectacular, actually. I’d like to meet your stylist. Seems like they really know what they’re doing. The stage outfits are a masterpiece. Maybe I could work with them, if you’re willing to open up a spot for an old friend.” You smiled, a warm one without any dishonest undertones. He let out a small laugh, nodding along to your statement.

“I’m sure we could work something out. We’d all be pretty thrilled to have you on board with us.” A painful moment ensued, one where you clearly picked up on his refrain. He was talking in broadness to avoid letting you know how badly he’d enjoy having you around, again. “Did you maybe want to go somewhere a bit more private?” He asked, breaking the silence you’d fallen into.

“Yeah, that would be alright.” You nodded. “Think I need a few drinks for this conversation, though.” You finished the last of your champagne and grabbed two more flutes. He nodded, appreciating the idea, then grabbed two for himself. He was grateful you hadn’t turned around and walked away. A simple hello was more than he was expecting from the conversation.

He led you in the direction of a side door, opening it and holding it for you. You slipped out, noticing that it revealed a patio area. The night was cool, but clear. The stars twinkled few and far between, and the moon casted a low light over the ground. There were a few tables and chairs places spaciously around the deck, the posts adorned with swirls of string lights. It would have been quite romantic had the mood not been so sullen. He pulled out a chair for you, inviting you to sit down. You did so, placing your glasses on the table. He pulled a chair from the other side of the table towards you. He settled in front of you, a little bit closer than ex’s should sit.

He took a long look at you, drinking in every detail and finding himself intoxicated from it. He’d wished for so long to have you in front of him again that he seemed to forget the effect you had on him. It had only gotten worse with time. He looked to be waiting for you to speak first, so you did. “Why’d you let me go that night?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

“I was stupid.” He admitted.

“Yeah,” you nodded, agreeing with him.

“Why’d you leave like that?” He asked, challenging your question. You looked up at him, disbelief clouding your expression.

“You made me choose, Josh.” You reminded him, not willing to take the blame for the situation.

“And you didn’t choose me.” He said, not in an accusatory fashion. Just in a simple sense, as if he was recalling the night as you spoke.

“I didn’t want to choose at all.” You explained. “You were asking me to pick between the two things I wanted most in life. It’s not like I walked into that conversation planning to leave you.”

“You chose a job over me, y/n.” You shot him a look, one that he knew all too well. It would take a lifetime to forget it.

“What if it was the other way around? You know you wouldn’t have picked me over music.” He kept his gaze on you, almost smiling, despite the situation being completely humourless.

“I certainly would have thought about it.” He answered. You could see he meant it, but you weren’t sure if he understood the implications of what he was saying.

“Okay.” You nodded, acknowledging his answer. “Come to New York with me.” You said, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head.

“What?”

“Come to New York with me.” You repeated, refusing to back down. He didn’t need to know you’d likely be staying in Nashville at least for the foreseeable future. He didn’t need to know your bags were packed at your apartment, waiting for you to return just so you could pick them up. Your homecoming was set in stone, but you needed to see if he realized the extent of his answer.

“Things are different, now, y/n.” He said, dismissing the subject.

“Pretend they’re not.” You urged. “Please.”

“I would fly to see you on the weekends. Stay with you as much as I could. But I couldn’t move there.” He said. You nodded along to his words, begging for him to see the issue in his statement.

“What if that’s not good enough? It’s all or nothing, Josh.” You felt your anger that you’d suppressed for so long begin to surface. “It’s me or the band.” You leaned forward, catching his eyes as he tried to look away from you.

“I get it, okay!” He finally exploded, likely feeling the same way you did. “I know what I did wasn’t right. I’ve spent a year and a half trying to forgive myself for it. But you were so caught up in being mad that you didn’t even stop to think about how I felt!” Rarely did you ever see Josh yell, let alone expel frustration the way he was doing in that moment. You were taken back, but not distracted from your feelings.

“Then tell me!” You pleaded. “You wouldn’t even look at me that night! All you said was you didn’t have anything to say to me, but clearly you do, so say it!”

“Fine, you want to hear it?” He asked, leaning forward, too. “I love, but I don’t fall in love with people. Never have. Thought it was too much commitment for such a short lifetime. I spent my entire life completely fine with never settling down. Then I met you, and you changed everything! I didn’t even get to decide whether I fell in love with you or not. By the time I started to realize how much you meant to me, I was already head over heels. I spent every day of my life, for three years, falling more in love with you every day that passed; I changed my whole outlook because you showed up and made me realize maybe I just hadn’t met the right person, and that’s why I never wanted to commit. We moved in together, and I started picturing this life with you, one where you had my last name and we had a few kids. Then you left. You just came home one day and said you were leaving, as if it weren’t an earth-shattering idea. I was so mad because you changed my entire life, and then you took it away!” You understood better, now. He felt abandoned, and you caused it. He never would have admitted it to you then, and he barely wanted to, now. Still, the idea of him thinking you were going to walk away and forget all about him stung like no other.

“I didn’t leave you, Josh. I left Nashville!” You exclaimed. “I never pictured a life without you, and I still don’t! I sit at my apartment alone and hope that maybe you’ll text me, or call, or show up! But you never did, so I had to learn how to deal with it!”

“It was the same thing, y/n! You left me behind for a whole new life. If we didn’t break up that night, we would have anyway!” You’re recoiled as if he’d burned you. “I didn’t call because you were perfectly fine leaving me here! You jumped on that plane and got to start over, and I got to sleep in a bed that haunted me with your presence!”

“It wasn’t the same, Josh.” You shook your head. “I sat at home in that apartment every day when you were touring the world, watching you live your dream from the sidelines. Watching girls throw themselves at you, always wondering if maybe I’d wake up one day and you’d find someone new. I waited for you, watching your life through a phone screen while I worked my shitty 9-5 and settled for video calls whenever you had time for me. Not once did I make you feel like shit about it. But the minute I get a chance at the life I’ve always dreamed of, it was a choice? One or the other? It wasn’t fucking fair, Josh. How was I supposed to stay after that?”

“You started dating me knowing that was my life! I spent three years with you building one of our own, one that we were used to, and comfortable with, one where we were happy. You came home one day and told me you’re getting on a plane and leaving for god knows how long. There was no discussion, I just had to be okay with it!” He was leaning closer with every word. Your faces were inches apart, both of you radiating with anger and on the defensive.

“Of course you were, Josh! You were my boyfriend! I told you I got invited to model in New York Fashion Week, and you made me feel like I didn’t have it in me, like you were already waiting for me to fail and come crawling back to you! You let me walk out that door like the three years we spent together meant nothing to you. Like you were only okay with being in love with me as long as it benefited you.” Tears were brimming in your eyes, the ache of the pain from that night still as prominent as it was a year prior. “You knew how much it meant to me. It was my biggest dream, one that I thought I would never achieve. I finally had a chance to live the life I always wanted, which still in included you, by the way, but you were too stubborn to understand anything other than your hurt. I would have came home every weekend to see you, called you every night, I would have done anything, because you were my whole world! You were supposed to support me, and you left me! I walked out that night, but you made that decision!” The tears spilled on to your cheeks, finally shed after so long holding them back. In the heat of the moment, at the sight of your hurt, he threw the anger and the fighting to the side. Without hesitation, his arms shot out and pulled you into a hug. You didn’t fight, just held him, too. As upset as you were, you knew that his hold was something you’d been longing for the whole time you were apart. The way he felt wrapped around you made you believe that the world was okay; the comfort was an impenetrable force.

“I never wanted to make you feel that way.” He whispered, holding your head securely in his palm. He used his other one to rub circles on your back. “I will always be your biggest fan, even if we never speak again after tonight. I’m so proud of you, and I can’t stress that enough. I was selfish, and I know that. You did so much for me, you always supported me, and I took it for granted. I was hurt when you left, but I never should have let you leave like that. I should have been there for you, cheering you on the same way you did for me.” He hesitated, but placed a kiss to the top of your head. When you didn’t recoil, he took it as a win. “I’m so sorry, y/n.”

“I am, too.” You said, the tears finally slowing. You pulled back, although quite hesitant in the action. He let you, but didn’t remove his hand from you. Instead, his thumb drifted to your cheek to wipe away the tears that had fallen. “It was never from a lack of love, Josh. When it comes to you, that’s not even a possibility. Breaking up with you was never an idea in my head. The distance didn’t scare me, because I knew I loved you enough to work through anything. When you wanted me to choose, I panicked. I was hurt, and I reacted based on that. I shouldn’t have walked out without fixing things. That was my mistake.”

“No, y/n. I shouldn’t have put you in that position, and I never should have let you leave like that. I was hurting and I was scared, I thought you would leave and forget about me. I didn’t want to lose you, but I ended up losing you, anyway, and I still haven’t recovered. It’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” You leaned into his touch, resting your head on his hand.

“Josh, I fell in love with you the day I met you. That never changed. I still walk around New York City, hoping I run into you, praying it won’t be like this forever. Your memory lives in everything I do; I couldn’t forget about you, even if I wanted to. Trust me, I’ve tried.” You laughed. “You’re the love of my life, whether it was only for a period of time or if we still have a chance. Nobody could ever replace you.”

“I never moved out of the apartment. It’s still decorated the same. It still has little reminders of you, everywhere. I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of them. Jake thinks I’m insane, or I’m torturing myself. I guess I just thought you’d come back for them, someday.” He confessed. “I still love you the same as I did a year ago.”

“Me, too.” You closed your eyes, hoping to hold on to the memory of his words forever. “So we’ve both been waiting for each other to come back this whole time? We’ve just been too stubborn to send a message first?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Both of us watching the others lives through social media, the most impersonal way possible.”

“You looked so happy. I was worried you were happier without me.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes at the statement.

“See? Impersonal. I’ve been miserable, mama.” Your heart soared at the term of endearment. You reached for your champagne glass, taking a sip, careful not to let your eyes leave him.

“Yeah, me too.” You eventually laughed. “We don’t have to be miserable, anymore. Not tonight, at least.” You said, wanting to blame the advance on the alcohol, but knowing deep down that it was wholly untrue.

“Are you saying what I think you are?” He raised an eyebrow. The Josh you knew so well was starting to make an appearance, again. You gave a shrug.

“I have a room upstairs with free room service. King bed, too.” He looked at you with intrigue, wanting to jump at the chance but still being afraid your judgement was clouded. He didn’t want you to regret it in the morning.

��There’s probably still a lot we could get off our chests. Did you want to talk more, first? I just want you to be sure this is what you want.” You stood, drinking the last of the liquid from your glass and moving on to the next.

“Fuck, Josh, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life. We can figure it out in the morning. I haven’t had sex in a year and a half, and I’m tired of waiting. I want you.” He took a deep inhale at the words, fighting the urge to take your clothes off right there. He stood, too, grabbing his own champagne glasses. He had no fight left in him, because he wanted you just as bad.

“Lead the way, mama.” For a moment, things felt right. Like no time had passed and you were both the same people as you were before all of the hurt. You turned on your heels, heading back to the door you came through, earlier. He was hot on your trail, not willing to let you leave his sight.

You slipped back inside, noticing the speeches had come to a close and the lights were off. The music was louder and the mood lighting really set the tone for the rest of the night. If you weren’t in such an entanglement, you thought you might enjoy it. But, you were certain that the nights events would top whatever enjoyment the ballroom could give you. You dropped off your empty glasses on the way by, watching Josh discard his, too. You reached out for him, looking back over your shoulder. He tangled his fingers with yours, over the moon at the feeling after so long without it. You guided him to the exit, managing to sneak out without too many curious glances. Liz, however, noticed you as soon as you came back inside. Josh’s brothers did, too. All of them were well aware that it wasn’t over between the two of you, and it never would be. They were waiting for the reunion just as much as the two of you were.

You both ran down the hallway to the elevator, giggles slipping out intermittently. When the doors opened, allowing you inside, Josh jumped at the moment of seclusion. His hand found your waist, pulling you into him like it was the most natural thing in the world. His free hand guided your chin upwards, finally taking the chance to lean down and kiss you. You melted into the feeling, closing your eyes in bliss. It was sweet, no provocative nature present. Just both of you savouring the moment in which you’d been denied of for months. When the ding signified your destination was reached, his wandering hands were reluctant to pull away. Thankfully, your room wasn’t too far away, meaning he wouldn’t have to wait too long to continue.

You keyed into your room, barely getting the door closed before he was back on you. You both kicked off your shoes, leading him further inside before things got too heated. You parted from him to click on the lamp by your bedside. He took the chance to admire you, now. No more residual tension was clouding his vision. “You look stunning, y/n.” You turned to him, a smile on your lips.

“You look pretty good yourself, Joshua.” He approached again, slower and more cautious. He raised his hand to your cheek, brushing away all of the hair obscuring the sight of your face.

“Has it really been that long?” He didn’t need to clarify; you knew what he was asking. You gave a nod, hoping you didn’t have to dive into it too far. In truth, you didn’t want to hear a submission of guilt from him. If he’d been with other people in your time apart, it was his free will, and you couldn’t be upset about it. There was no disloyalty of any kind, but you certainly didn’t want to imagine it.

“I guess it never felt right. Always felt like I was still yours, I think.” You shrugged. He smiled at the words, overjoyed at the profession.

“Me either,” he said, running his thumb over your cheek. “I was always yours, too.” You let out a sigh of relief, almost feeling the need to cry again. The entire night felt so surreal, almost as if you were dreaming.

“God, please tell me this is real life. I don’t want to wake up disappointed.” You pleaded. He chuckled, finding the statement quite cute.

“It’s real, mama. Trust me, I feel the same way.” He leaned down, kissing you once more. Your hand reached for him, landing somewhere on his side. You didn’t care where it landed, only that you were touching him again. “Sounds like we’ve got a lot of time to make up for.” He stated, pulling back just enough to get the words out. A laugh fell from your lips, one that was quiet and still laced with disbelief. “Turn around for me.” You obliged, spinning to face the other direction.

His fingers drifted over your exposed skin, gathering your hair and pushing it to the side. He unzipped your dress, gently brushing the silk straps from your shoulders. He leaned forward pressing his lips to the spots they once graced. You let out a hum of delight, closing your eyes at the sensation. He let you decide whether you wanted to let the fabric fall, and you did. It dropped with as much elegance as it held while you adorned it on your body. He bent down, waiting for you to step away from it. Once you did, he cautiously picked it from the ground, gently laying it over the chair by the bedside. Once it was safely out of the way, he finally turned to look at you again. His breath caught in his throat, completely taken off guard at the sight of you naked before him once again.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispered, taking a step towards you. You were standing, completely naked aside from your underwear, at full disposal for whatever he chose to do with you. There was no worry in your body; the minute his hands found you again, you were certain you’d found home, again. After so long wandering through life, gaining success but never really feeling like you belonged, it made sense again. All of the money and the fame was satisfying, but never fulfilling. His touch reminded you of why everybody loved to say money can’t buy happiness. There was no financial value that would ever equate to the feeling of being loved by Josh. If you were put on earth for a purpose, it was to be loved by him, and to love him. Nobody could look at you and see right into your soul the way he could; he knew every part of you without even looking or having to ask. “Lay down, baby.” He insisted.

You allowed him to guide you down on the bed, your head finding home in the nest of pillows. He rid himself of his jacket, and his shirt wasn’t long following. You watching him in awe, not being able to comprehend how one boy could posses so much beauty. It was in everything he did, his words, his actions, his appearance. He was perfect. He slipped out of his pants, climbing in bed with you. He pulled you into his arms, just enjoying the intimacy for a moment. Eventually, you were both stripped naked and tangled in each others limbs. As heated as the journey to your room was, sex was no longer the most pressing thought in your heads. You found yourself lost in chatter, laughing and giggling at stories you’d been longing to tell each other for the last year. In between, there were stolen kisses; some short, and others laced with neediness. No sexual gratification would compare to the emotional connection you started to restore.

Eventually, he found himself laying between your legs, mouth exploring the spots on your neck he was aching to reunite with. Every so often, his teeth or tongue would grace over a sensitive area, pushing a breathy moan from your lips. The sounds were heavenly, ones he thought he’d never get the chance to hear again. “I want you, Josh.” You sighed, finally growing restless after the hours of relentless teasing.

“Tell me what you want, gorgeous.” He hummed against your collarbone.

“You. I don’t care, anything, please.” You sighed, not caring about the desperation. You felt him smile against you, clearly pleased with the state you were in.

“You want me to touch you?” He asked, fingers ghosting over your rib cage, sending a jolt of electricity through.

“Please,” he brought the pad of his thumb to your nipple, brushing it over you. He watched as you drew in a shaky breath. If there was one thing you knew about Josh, it was that he loved viewing sex as a marathon. If you were to let him, he’d go all night, dragging it out as much as possible. Tonight, you couldn’t take it. He could tell how you were feeling without you saying it aloud, not finding it in himself to push you any further. He let his hand drift downwards, shifting his weight onto one side so he had better access to you. He slipped his fingers between your legs, running them through you and getting a feel for your arousal. Your back arched at the feeling, it was familiar yet almost foreign.

“All of this for me, pretty girl?” He asked, running your wetness up to your clit. He slowly rubbed circles, just light enough to allow you to adjust to the feeling. You muttered a curse under your breath, almost having forgotten how acquainted he was with your body. His fingers kept a steady pace, gradually applying more pressure as he continued on. His eyes remained on your face, wishing to engrave your expression into every part of his brain so he could never forget it.

As his hand explored you, his lips did, too. His mouth drifted across your exposed stomach, trailing kisses all over the skin. Eventually, he worked his way up to your breasts, pulling a hardened nipple into his mouth, grazing his teeth and tongue over it, begging for a reaction. When he heard a whine fall from your lips, he closed his eyes in satisfaction. He slipped his finger down towards your entrance, moving his thumb to your clit in place. He pushed his middle and ring finger inside you, starting at an agonizingly slow pace. His thumb brushed over your clit with every pump of his fingers. The sensation was much more intense than you remembered it, maybe because of the depravity of the feeling, or because you missed him so much.

The sex was slow, much slower than it used to be. Both of you wanted to savour the experience as much as you could. But the praise, the words, even the way he worshiped you like you were the most beautiful thing to walk the earth was all the same. Neither of you allowed any of the negativity to change the way you appreciated each other. You’d been with plenty of people before Josh, but never any who loved you in the way he did. Every touch was sacred, filled with love and tenderness, even if the act wasn’t supposed to feel that way. As stupid as you felt about waiting so long for him, you were thankful you did. Nobody could make you feel the way he did. The wait just resulted in the usual pleasure being escalated by a thousand.

“Does that feel good, mama?” He asked, finally pausing his assault on your breasts. He looked up to you, eyelids heavy and lust clouding his pupils.

“So good, Josh.” You sighed, looking down to meet his gaze. He gave you a lazy smile, content at the confirmation.

“Did you miss me?” He questioned, his tone dropping slightly. He curled his fingers upward with the next movement, causing a gasp to fall from you. “Hmm?” He hummed, still waiting for you to answer.

“Missed you so much.” You admitted, eyelids fluttered closed at the pleasure he was causing.

“Think she missed me, too.” He muttered, eyes flowing down towards his hand working into your cunt. You swallowed hard at the words, taken off guard by the cockiness but knowing he was speaking truth. His jaw clenched, clearly pleased with the sight. He was good at putting his pleasure aside to ensure yours, but you knew him well enough to recognize what his expression meant. He’d been depraved of this, too, and the view was driving him insane. “Right?” He asked for clarification, his chest rising at his deep inhale.

“Yeah,” you whispered, a pressure beginning to build in your belly.

“She knows she belongs to me.” He hummed. Your face flushed at the statement, unsure where the possessiveness was coming from. That was something quite new; before, he always acted as though the access to your body was a gift. The simple statement dripped with entitlement, but you didn’t mind. He was right. No matter how much distance between you, or how much time passed, you were his. You didn’t mind the claim in the slightest. In fact, you enjoyed it.

“Fuck, Josh,” you let your head fall back on the pillows, the knot in your stomach tightening more with every second that passed.

“Yeah?” He beamed, knowing exactly what the warning was for. “Look at me, mama. Wanna see that pretty face while you cum.” He pleaded. You were in no state to deny him the request, eyes falling back on him. He was watching you, desperate to see your expression. His movements remained steady, gently coaxing the orgasm from you. Your mouth fell open slightly, a sharp inhale sounding as the pressure peaked and sent you into a down-spiral. You managed his name through the intense wave of moans, eyes squeezed shut and all of your muscles tensed. He rode you through it, whispering notes of encouragement as you were clenched around his hand.

When you relaxed against him, he let out a long breath. The tail end dissolved into a groan, absolutely floored at the sight he had just experienced. “Was that good, baby?” He asked, slowly pulling his fingers from you. You sighed at the loss of contact, still yearning for more.

“So, so good, Josh.” You didn’t mind fuelling his ego, because it was well deserved. At first, you wanted to blame the quickness of your orgasm on the length of time it had been since you had one. Deep down, you knew it wasn’t true. Josh had the ability to make you cum simply by looking at you with enough intent. It had everything to do with him, and you knew nobody else could ever affect you in the same way.

“Can’t believe you had nobody to take care of you for so long,” he let out a disapproving tsk, slowly sinking down further on the bed. “All of those New York boys really missed out.” His soft lips grazed over the inside of your thigh. “A woman like you deserves more than that.” His teeth sunk into the flesh, causing you to jump at the sudden sensation. “What was it, mama? Couldn’t find anyone to fuck you right?” Your jaw clenched at the profanity of his statement. You were well aware that he was only messing with you just for show, so you played into his game.

“Mhm,” you agreed. “Nobody could fuck me like you, Josh.” You told him, lowering your tone. The muscle in his jaw tensed at the confession.

“No?” He asked, lips dangerously close to your heat. “My poor baby.” He sympathized, his facial hair gently tickling the skin of your legs. “I’ll always treat you right, honey.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, agreeing with him.

“Y’know I’ll give you whatever you want, whenever you want it. Always fuck you like you just how you like it.” The teasing was torturous; you needed him more than you needed water. It wasn’t a desire, it was necessary for survival.

“I know you will, baby.” You breathed, your sultry tone quickly dissolving into whiny.

“That’s why you’ll always come home to me, right?” He asked, dipping his head even closer to your cunt. “You know who you belong to, beautiful.” You gave a nod of desperation. “Wanna hear you say it, mama.”

“You, Josh. I’m all yours. Only yours.” You promised. A smile graced his face.

“Sounds so pretty when you say it like that.” He was trying not to sound needy himself; his mouth was practically watering at the sight before him. He almost felt wrong teasing you in such a way, because he was certain he was more desperate for you than he’d ever been. “I’d treat you better than that. I’d fuck you every day if I could, just to make sure you know what you deserve. Just to make sure you were happy.” He explained, feeling his guilt resurface. You felt your heart ache at the statement, the words reminding you that as good as you felt, things weren’t the same as they used to be. He saw the emotion flash across your face, realizing how his statement may have come off in a context he didn’t intend. “I can, and I will, if you’ll let me.” He let down the act for a moment, fully letting you see into his heart.

“Yeah,” you managed to muster out. “I’d like that.” He couldn’t hold back the look of happiness that forced its way onto his face.

“Be mine again, baby. Promise I’ll make up for everything. I’ll never let you get away again.” He whispered, but he was pleading with you. There was no way he could walk away from you after this. It would kill him.

“Okay,” you agreed, no hesitation present. It wasn’t the alcohol, or the sex talking. You wanted him, and you were certain of that before you’d even spoken to him. Maybe everybody else was right, you thought. This wasn’t one of those things that you couldn’t walk away from. If you did, you’d be 80 years old and still wondering what it would be like to love him again. When it came to Josh, it was never over. Just a wrong turn that ultimately led you back to the same destination.

He let the thought settle in his soul; no more yearning for someone he wasn’t sure he would ever have again. The universe had granted him another chance, and he’d be damned if he took it for granted a second time. You were his again, and he was yours, as if that was ever untrue in the first place. He wasted no more time, slipping his arms under your thighs and pulling you down on his mouth. He let his tongue run through you, savouring the feeling and moaning against you. He was eating you as if he was a starved man offered his first meal in weeks. In his eyes, he was. Being depraved of the home he’d found between your legs was a terrible feeling, and he never wanted to feel it again.

You let a moan out, your hands snaking down to his hair. You noticed the lack of it on the sides, understanding that it would be hard to get used to. Instead of focusing on the difference, you tangled your fingers in the hair still atop his head, losing yourself to the familiarity of his tongue. You couldn’t help but admire him through the waves of pleasure, the way he got enjoyment out of making you feel good, how pretty he looked with his head nestled between your thighs. You noticed the way his hips would grind into the mattress, just enough to give him a bit of relief, or the way he was completely lost in you, not having a notice for anything other that what was in front of him. You had no doubt he would stay there forever, if you let him.

He pulled back for a moment, just to catch another look of your face. “Taste so good, baby. Even better than I remember.” He slipped his thumb in place of his tongue, just so he didn’t lose the progress he was making. “Missed having you like this. Thought about it every fucking night.”

“I thought about it too, all of the time.” You sighed, mesmerized by the emotion he adorned in his eyes. He returned his other fingers to you, pumping them in time with his thumb for a moment. He studied you for a while before he returned to work with his mouth. The combined feeling of him pumping his fingers into you, and his tongue focused on your clit was overwhelming.

You were nearing a second orgasm, desperate for him to keep going. He could sense it in your breathing, the tugs at his hair, and the profanities you were expelling every so often. He remained steady, curling his fingers every so often in attempt to find the spot inside you he knew so well. He hit a particularly sensitive spot, causing your hips to buck forward. He didn’t have to say it aloud for you to know he enjoyed it; a groan produced from deep in his chest, his fingers attempting to get the same reaction from you again. You closed your eyes, unable to focus on anything other than the knot tightening in your belly.

“Josh,” you breathed, a verbal warning that you were close. He hummed against you, encouraging you. Your head fell back, blissfully unaware of anything other than the feeling of his tongue. Soon after, you were coming undone again, crying his name and quickly dissolving into a mess. He coaxed you through it, more dedicated to making you feel good rather than getting the satisfaction of seeing your face.

When you came down, he didn’t ease up; his tongue was still determined, fingers never slowing. Even in the burning oversensitivity, you couldn’t help but still enjoy the moment. You were certain that after 18 long months, he could cause you nothing but physical pain and you’d still enjoy it, just because he was the one doing it. Part of you wished he never had to stop, because you never wanted to come down from the high of the intimacy. The overpowering sensation was driving you insane, the previous orgasm never really having a chance to dissipate before the next began to bloom. The noises you were making were filthy, pornographic, almost. Josh was almost praying the walls were thinner than they appeared, cocky enough to know how good he was making you feel and egotistical enough to want everyone to know it.

When your third orgasm was begging you to let go, you couldn’t even get the words out to warn him. Your knuckles were white against the hold on his hair, all of your muscles rigid and lungs aching for a full breath. It took little time for you to reach your peak, panting heavily and glistening with a thin layer of sweat. This time, he slowed his movements as your body relaxed. He removed his tongue first, followed by his fingers once he knew you were back to earth. “There you go, mama.” He sighed. His lips ghosted over your torso as he inched his way up your body. “That’s all you needed, hmm?” He hummed, sucking a few marks into your collarbone. “Someone to take care of you,” his head nuzzled back into the crook of your neck, mouth exploring the area once again. “Someone who knows how to make you feel good?” His moustache tickled the sensitive skin, causing a tired giggle to fall from you. You could feel him smile against you in response to the sound.

“I want you, Josh.” You said. As fantastic as he was making you feel, your patience was non-existent. It had been too long since you’d had him, and you didn’t feel willing to wait any longer. He lifted his head from your neck, eyes scanning your face for a moment. His lips upturned into a smirk, likely feeling similar.

“You want me?” He whispered, already shifting between your legs for a better position. You gave him a nod. “How bad, beautiful?”

“So bad, baby. It’s been so long.” You admitted, not willing to challenge him in the slightest. His fingers gently grazed over your hips, a moment of innocent love before such a dirty act. He pulled you towards him, grabbing your legs and guiding them over his shoulders. The excitement brewing in your stomach was barely containable.

“Been so good for me, mama. Won’t make you wait any longer.” He promised. You felt his hand leave you, moving down to guide himself towards your entrance. Without another word, he pushed himself inside you. You both let out a sigh of relief, finally feeling at peace with each other. The battle of experiencing so much pent up love with nowhere to channel it had come to an end; the solution to the issue being clear the whole time, but only now was it truly acknowledged. You needed each other, and no distance would change that. There was no separation or heartbreak big enough to rid yourselves of the connection you had. You both knew that before the night dissolved into the current situation, but it was only solidified further once you both felt what it was like to be reunited in such a way. There was no way you could walk away from each other again.

His hips moved slowly, the only motive being the need to feel the closeness. The movements were barely stimulating, but more than pleasurable to you both. “God, y/n.” He hissed, sucking in a long breath through his teeth. He pulled you closer to him by your thighs, thrusting as he did so and causing a gasp from you. “Feel so fucking good.” He picked up the pace, realizing he was only torturing you both. The memory of him inside you was nothing in comparison to the real thing. The angle allowed the tip of his cock to brush your cervix, sending a jolt of electricity through you each time. “Wish I could have you like this forever.”

“Me, too.” You groaned, your hand reaching out in desperation for his. He met your gesture, pulling your hand into his and resting them on your thigh. His eyes were closed, intently focusing on his movements, making sure he kept a steady rhythm. The low light of the lamp was casted over his face, allowing you to really admire his beauty. The slight furrow of his eyebrows, the tension in his jaw as he fucked into you, his lips that always looked so soft and inviting. He was a masterpiece, and you felt lucky to even be able to experience him in such a way. His free hand found your breast, at first just a gentle acknowledgment, but then he took your nipple between his fingers and applied a bit of pressure. The shock lit up your face, causing him to give you a small smirk. As much as he loved to please you, he loved to be an asshole, too.

It was all in the nature of the relationship; the time that passed didn’t change the dynamic. You both still seemed to be on the same wavelength, remembering what the other liked, incorporating small humorous expressions and actions to lighten the intensity. You were grateful that he was still so familiar to you. It took the nervousness away, and made sex feel lighthearted and carefree. There was never a worry of embarrassment or fear of judgement. He was your best friend, still, after everything, and he was making sure you knew that. The same goofy, sweet boy from the beginning.

You could tell he was growing bored with the position. As much as he loved the feeling, you knew what he wanted, and you were fully willing to give it to him. “Lay down,” you told him. His eyes connected with yours, an unspoken question of certainty. You gave a nod, and he didn’t wasn’t any time pulling out of you. He collapsed onto the bed beside you, turning towards you and practically pulling you on top of him. He had a grin plastered across his face, cheeks a bit rosy and eyelids heavy.

“You know me so well.” He said softly, almost as if he were talking to himself.

“You act like you’re the only one who enjoys this position.” You rolled your eyes.

“I know you do, but I really like it.” His excitement was clear in his face. You couldn’t help but smile, too.

“Yeah, ‘cause you don’t have to do any work.” You joked, securing your legs on either side of him. You lifted yourself up, reaching down to guide him back into you.

“No, ‘cause you look so pretty on top of me.” He answered, tone of voice matching yours. His hands found your hips, slowly bringing you down on him. “I’d be happy to do the work as long as I get to see you like this.” You couldn’t find the words to reply, already lost in the new position, revelling in the angle and depth he was reaching inside you. You began to roll your hips on him, slowly catching up to speed. “Oh, and because I can do this, now.” He reached around, pinching your ass between his index finger and his thumb. Your eyes widened, giving him a look of bewilderment. He gave a chuckle, keeping his hand there and gently running his thumb over the spot he’d just hurt.

“Not being very nice to someone who’s trying to get you off,” you grumbled. He erupted into a real laugh, giving his head a small shake.

“Don’t have to try very hard, mama. Never did.” He joked, but there was a hint of truth to the statement. “But, I suppose I could be a little nicer. Since you’re being so good to me.” He brought his free hand up to your cheek, brushing the hair from your face. You leaned into his palm, closing your eyes in content. You were still moving your hips, just enough to satisfy the craving while he joked with you. It felt so natural, so familiar. It felt like home.

“You’ll be nice for a while, then you’ll do something to piss me off again. It’s just what you do.” You giggled, remembering his constant antics to get on your nerves. It was intolerable by times, but always in the most loving and sincere way possible.

“You love me.” He stated, in a completely relaxed, natural way. Your breath caught in your throat at the word, surprised that it made an appearance again so soon. He said it as if he’d never stopped saying it in the first place. He finally noticed what he said, expression losing its humour almost instantly. “I hope you do, at least.” He mumbled.

“I do,” you whispered, nodding your head. “I really do.” You were overcome with emotion, swallowing back the tears begging to be shed at the statement. The high intensity of the emotions in the room were unimaginable, and they hadn’t subsided all night. A small smile graced his lips as a laugh filled with relief sounded from him.

“God, it’s been so long since I’ve heard you say that.” He guided your head down, connecting your mouths in a gesture of gratitude. “Too long.” He mumbled against your lips. You pulled back just enough to speak clearly.

“I’ll say it again, if you really want me to.” You grinned.

“Please, baby.” He begged, wanting to hear the actual words.

“I love you,” you breathed, happy to finally be able to tell him again.

“I love you.” He replied, bringing you into another kiss, much more desperate than the last. As he did so, he suddenly seemed to remember where you were and what you were in the middle of. Without breaking away from you, he thrusted upwards with force. The impact caused you to let a moan slip into his mouth, only fuelling him further. You raised your hips slightly, allowing him to move with ease. He took it as an invitation, repeating his earlier action and continuing with a steady pace.

You parted with him, catching your breath. You straightened up, placing a hand on his chest to support your balance as he fucked you. You let out a slur of curses, indirect praise for the work he was doing. You moved your hips in time with his, greedy for more. He dropped his hands back to your waist, fingers gripping at the flesh like he’d gone feral. As much as you liked to tease him, you liked the position just as much as he did. There was something that drove you crazy about him under you, the freedom of his hands in which he used expertly. Plus, the pleasure he got from it fuelled yours, too. You were certain you could spend the rest of your life doing nothing but pleasing him and be happy while doing it.

His hips stuttered and he let out a low groan, the telltale sign he was getting close. It had been a long time for both of you, the stamina barely existing on either part. He held you still, wordlessly telling you to slow down. You fought against the hold, not caring if he came or not. In fact, you were hoping he would. He’d been generous in the orgasm department with you, and you were eager to do the same for him. “Slow down, mama.” He warned.

“It’s okay,” you assured him.

“Don’t want it to be over yet.” He admitted, catching your gaze.

“S’okay, baby.” You repeated. “I have this room all weekend.” He eyed you with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, like he was already thinking about the luxury of fucking you again. Like he was making a list of how many places around the room he could have you in. In a split-second decision, his fingers shot to your clit, finding it without any issue.

“Gotta cum with me, then. You know the rules.” He ordered. You have a nod, a hum of pleasure sounding straight from your chest. He stopped your movements, allowing him to set the pace and ensuring his hand didn’t slip from you, either. You locked your hips in place, fully allowing him to do as he pleased with you.

You both knew it wouldn’t take long; the joys of knowing each other so well meant that you knew exactly what to do. He kept his movement steady and consistent, uttering small praise as you allowed him to work at you. The noises falling from your lips graced his ears and settled deep in his chest, begging him to never forget them. “Look at me,” he wanted to sound authoritative, but he was nowhere close to it. Still, you obliged. You caught his eyes, finding yourself lost in them as soon as you did. “Come on, mama. Cum for me.” He begged, both of you knowing he couldn’t last much longer. The intensity grew with each second that passed, your head spinning with pleasure.

“M’gonna,” you moaned, promising to fulfill his request. He let out a groan, the end dissolving into a bit of a growl. The sound alone seemed to be enough to do it for you. “Fuck!” You exclaimed, your climax hitting you hard. You kept a steady hold on his chest, your other hand reaching for his arm for support. He didn’t have the ability to coax you through it; his cock twitched inside you, the sight of you coming undone sending him over the edge. He held you down on him as he spilled his release into you.

“Fuck, y/n,” he groaned, fingers digging into your hips with a promise of lasting bruises. When he came back down from the high, you were both breathless and seeing stars. He released his grip on you, guiding you down to lay on him. “My beautiful girl,” he sighed, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I missed you so much.” You confessed, focusing on the drum of his heartbeat against his chest.

“You have no idea how much I missed you.” He admitted, letting his fingers run through your hair. He sounded tired, enveloped in comfort and peace. “I thought about you every day. You never left my mind.”

“I’m sorry I left, Josh. I didn’t want to leave you. Especially like that.”

“I know, mama. I’m sorry for trying to make you stay. It wasn’t fair. I should have supported you no matter what.” He gently scratched your head. You closed your eyes, fully immersed in the intimacy. “I promise I’ll never do anything like that again. I was lucky enough to get a second chance, and I want to do it right, this time.”

“Me, too.” You agreed. “I never want to lose you again. It was a horrible year without you. Yeah, I did great stuff, made a name for myself, but it didn’t really mean a whole lot without someone to share the excitement with. Everybody was talking about me, but I had nobody to talk to. It was lonely without my best friend.”

“I know what you mean. Great things happened, I’m proud of what we accomplished, but I just wanted to be able to come home and tell you all about it. Every time I realized I couldn’t, it all just lost its shine.” You smiled at the statement, thinking he worded it perfectly. Life was fine without Josh, survivable in the least, but he made everything shine. He gave everything just a little bit more novelty. It was dull without him. Lacklustre, even. “Was it too soon to say I love you again?” He asked, finally airing out his anxiety.

“I think I was shocked, hearing it again after so long, but I don’t think it was wrong to say it. We never really stopped being in love; all of it was still there, it just had nowhere to go. If anything, I’m happy you still feel that way, too. Made me feel less stupid.” He didn’t respond, but you could practically feel him smiling. “You never moved out of the apartment?” You remembered he had said it earlier, but you wanted to clarify that you’d heard him right.

“No. Never changed it, either. There’s still shampoo bottles in the shower that belong to you, clothes in the closet, our pictures on the wall. I think I always hoped you’d come back home. Wanted you to know it was still yours, if you ever did.” Your heart ached at his words. You’d both been so stupid, suffering for so long that you both forced yourself to believe you’d forgotten about each other. “And it is. I mean, still yours, if you ever want to come back.” His free hand drifted over your back, fingertips gently ticking the exposed skin. “I know you have a career in New York, and I understand if you can’t, or you don’t want to. If you ever do want to, or change your mind, I’d be more than happy.”

“Thank you,” you wanted to express it in the most sincere way possible. The knowledge that he still wanted you there with him was extremely comforting. You didn’t mind the idea, either.

“But, for now, I’m happy to fly out and see you whenever I can. I’ll call every night, just like I should have from the beginning. I’ll never let you think I forgot about you ever again, or that I don’t believe in you, because neither of those are true.” You placed a kiss to his chest, finally feeling ready to tell him the news. You would have, anyway, but knowing he was willing to make it work even if you lived so far away made it impossible not to tell him.

“Actually, I was wondering if you could give me my key back.” You grinned. His lax stature immediately changed, pulling back just so he could look to see if you were joking. “Now that the line is releasing, and the outlet store is opening here, I’m gonna be in Nashville for a while. On and off, sometimes, but here for the foreseeable future, at least.” The look on his face made it seem like you’d just told him he won the lottery. “I was kind of dreading staying in a hotel, or having to hunt for another lonely apartment.”

“Are you serious?” He asked, still catching up to speed.

“Yeah,” you laughed. “I’d really like to come home, Josh. If that’s what you want, of course.” You felt that the need to go through the motions of dating again were quite silly, especially since you’d spent most of your adult life with him. The brief pause when you were gone didn’t really mean too much. You’d both changed, but clearly not enough to become anything close to strangers.

“Of course I do!” He wrapped you up in a hug, holding you like he’d never get the chance to, again. You both dissolved into a fit of giggles, excited at the idea of building a life together, again.

“I know you have to tour, and that’s okay. I’ll have to be in New York sometimes, too. I can come visit you, wherever you are. If you get some free time, you can come see me, or we can meet in the middle. I don’t care where that is, because if I’m with you, I’m home.” If it was possible to hold you tighter, he did just that. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he mumbled, words muffled due to his face being buried in your hair. “So much, mama.”

“I do think we should probably get cleaned up, though.” You eased into the idea, realizing the state you were both still in.

“A shower?” He asked, hidden implications written all over the question.

“Sure,” you laughed, sitting upright. “But we should do it, like now.”

You both made your way into the bathroom, getting in the shower and cleaning yourselves off. The night turned into the early hours of the morning, but sleep refused to come to either of you. You were too caught up in the stories, the jokes, and the touches, and the sex to care about anything else. More than anything, you were both just content finally being back in each others company. The sunrise barely put a damper on your night of reunion, because you were too immersed in each other to notice it. Too immersed in the overwhelming feeling of finally being at home after an unexplainably long, tiresome day.

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abibliophobiaa · 2 years ago

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Beyond - s.h. x f!reader

Chapter Five: Somewhere in the Crowd There’s You

a/n: here’s chapter five of my purely self-indulgent fun — a little later than i anticipated because i was sick and got a little derailed. we are half way now and things will be heating up in the next few chapters, haha. wanted to play around with one of my favorite tropes, so here we are with modern day!rich!fake husband!steve harrington x afab!reader.

warnings/tags: (10k words); mentions of alcohol; parent loss, both parties; r has a sister and father; smut in later chapters, so 18+, minors dni; additional tags to be added.

masterlist

“You sent too much money.”

It’s your father’s voice that spills down the other line. Gruff in a way that alerts you your fears aren’t for naught, as he’s likely had many sleepless nights since the last you spoke. You recall days as a child, when your mother had been sick, and your father would stay awake all hours of the night, if only to clean up the house so she didn’t have to. To make sure that her worries were only meant to be on getting better and resting.

“I…have a business and it’s going well,” you explain, chewing on your bottom lip.

Across the room, Steve’s fluffing pillows and putting a champagne bottle on ice. Your guests will be here soon, likely within the next few minutes, though when your father’s name flashed across your screen you knew you needed to answer.

“Only a few clients now, but I’m hopeful I’ll pick up more,” you continue, exhaling deeply. “I want you to have it. I know Caroline mentioned needing new shoes. Please let me do this.”

There’s a long pause. “Okay, okay. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. Clinical year at school, newly married, and now a businesswoman. How is my son-in-law?”

“He’s…”

Steve rushes into the kitchen where you’re standing, hands curling around either of your hips to shift you away from the refrigerator so he can pull out the charcuterie board you had commissioned for the evening’s gathering.

“He’s really great. He’s been busy since we got back from our honeymoon, but he’s doing really well.”

Ever since your moment days ago in the kitchen, after Steve had pushed aside picking you up and opted to send Hopper in his stead, your relationship has taken new form. True to his word, Steve started a new habit of not answering his phone after you're done with your clinicals for the evening. Afternoons now had been spent watching your shows together on nights you didn’t have prior engagements with his coworkers, merely existing in the same room together, becoming…friends.

Literal friends, in the truest sense of the word. And it’s more than you can ask for, though you can’t lie that even the slightest touches leave you a little breathless. There’s also the kisses to the back of your hand at dinner, the way he curls his palm around the top of your thigh while his coworkers regale a particularly interesting story, the lingering press of his mouth against your forehead when he’s feeling especially doting in mixed company.

Progress.

You’re making progress.

“I actually should go and help him. We have company this afternoon. His cousin and wife are visiting us for the first time since the wedding. Still getting used to hosting gatherings as a couple, you know?” There’s a chuckle on the other end, and you know him well enough to imagine the slow shake of his head. “I love you so much and I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

The line clicks, leaving you to witness Steve elbow deep in the sink, washing your coffee mugs from earlier that morning. Your eyes slide to the perfectly operational dishwasher on his right side, though you can’t deny that the sight of your husband, bare arms shifting and moving as he works, is a lovely one. None the wiser of your ogling, you step forward to him, elbow leaning down against the counter.

“You know, the dishwasher is empty,” you point out.

“I am perfectly capable of cleaning a few dishes,” he grouses, rinsing a cup and settling it in the drying rack. “I also need to keep moving. Getting antsy now that they’re running late.”

“Hey, Steve?” You step closer, your front brushing his hip. He shakes his head as you do so, a laugh breaking free from his mouth as you grip his arms and still him in his frantic movements. “Put the sponge down. And the plate. The fork, too.”

The three items plunk down into the sink, a loud clatter in your otherwise silent home. Fingers curl around a hand towel and he reaches over to grasp his wedding ring, pushing it back into place against his knuckle. One thing you’ve found, and you particularly enjoy, is the fact Steve’s never taken off his ring. Not once. Even under the false pretenses of marriage, seeing him wearing a symbol of your union, of the vows you shared some time ago now, erupts dozens of bees into your bloodstream. Humming, buzzing, igniting your every nerve ending with electricity.

“Are you okay,” you ask, hand coming to rest against his back.

It’s the softest brush, and yet he turns his head all the same, hazel eyes meeting yours, and then trailing up the inside of your arm to where you’re touching.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he says unconvincingly, shifting to face you now. That arm drops as he does so, but is replaced by his two large hands cupping your biceps. “Just want to get through this afternoon and then I’ll be much happier.”

Your mouth opens to speak, to ask him why the stress over this afternoon, when his phone rings and the doorman lets him know Theobald and Cami have finally arrived. It’s not the first time you’ve met them. The first had been at your wedding, where introductions to most of Steve’s friends and extended family were done so in a rapid fire manner. They’d been kind enough; as much as one can be in a two minute conversation wherein you welcomed them and thanked them for coming to celebrate your “special day” with the love of your life.

But now, seeing them there in the flesh, brought a new wave of nervousness into your belly. Theobald Cletus, with his dark hair that resembles Steve’s, with tan skin and the beginnings of wrinkles that crease his forehead and around the corners of his mouth. And beside him, his stunning wife with silky red curls that fell to her waist in ringlets, delicately freckled cheeks, and impossibly green eyes. Ethereal—she looked ethereal and, by your guessing, quite a bit younger than her husband standing with a hand against the smallest point of her back.

As your mouth opens to speak and welcome them into your home, Cami rushes forward, curling her arms around your shoulders in a frighteningly tight hug that has you wincing and peering over your shoulder to your husband. Steve only shrugs as he steps forward and cups his hand around his cousin’s, only to be tugged forward into a hug of his own.

“Theobald, you’ve met my wife,” Steve finally says once you’ve managed to extract yourself from Cami long enough to sidle back up to him, his arm settling around your waist, palm curling affectionately around your hip. One of the appropriate touches you’ve discussed, and yet it has your head spinning all the same.

Just as it does every time.

“Ah, yes.” His eyes flicker to yours. Darker than your husband’s, corners twitching as his lips curl into a smile. “The new Mrs. Harrington. How could I forget that whirlwind affair?”

Head dipping uncomfortably, you press your palm against Steve’s where it rests against your hip, sliding your fingers between his to lace them tight. “It was pretty crazy, wasn’t it?” Awkwardly laughing, you turn to look to Steve for support. “Should we take this into the living room?”

“Please!” Cami exclaims, flicking her hair over her shoulders. “I would love to hear all about the honeymoon. I want all the details. Should we be expecting any little Harringtons soon?”

Just as you say, “Absolutely not,” Theobald echoes, “My cousin loves kids. Always wanted a brood of them.”

It’s expected, you think. It’s a common question after marriage, no matter how inappropriate. Society says once you’re married you’re to obviously have children next. Frankly, it’s archaic and a ridiculous practice. And even so, Theobald’s words strike a sudden sadness into your chest. This thought that Steve so deeply wants children. A thought you could completely see come to fruition based on his interactions with El and Will alone. They’d been immediately endeared to him. All wide eyes and bright laughter, vibrant conversation, his endless bantering with them.

Steve Harrington would be a good father to his future children one day with his real wife. Not the woman you are to him for the next three years.

However, it’s at this moment you rationalize the error in your plans. A real couple would have had these conversations about future children already.

“Not now, at least,” you giggle airily, curling your arm around Steve’s and tugging him close. His brows furrow as you add, “Right now I’m just enjoying spending time with my husband. I want to be a little selfish for a while yet.”

“Understandable,” Cami agrees, settling down on your living room couch, crossing her legs and revealing a stunning pair of Gucci pumps that likely cost your half of the rent while still living with Robin. “I love our two little gremlins, but they take up all our free time. Constantly running them around to school events, dance classes, sporting events.”

“Sweetheart, the au pair does all of that,” Theobald chuckles, earning a whack in the arm from his wife. “Enough about that. Tell me…how did you two meet? It all happened so fast.”

“As you already pointed out,” Steve warns, hand around yours growing tighter.

Cami moves to open the champagne bottle, easing the tension in the room with the echoing pop. Glasses are poured and passed around the table, glasses coming together in a soft ‘cheers’ before you bring the champagne flute to your lips and take a large swallow. Bubbles burst against your tongue, eyes training on Theobald’s, just as he passes a look your way.

A battle of wills then, you think.

“We met at a party,” you begin, removing your hand from Steve's and gripping the bottom of his chin, shifting him enough that he’s looking at you. “We’d known each other for a bit through our mutual friend, and we’d always kind of danced around one another. In the same spaces always, yet too nervous to make the first move.”

Steve watches you carefully as you weave your tale that isn’t really a tale. It’s mostly the truth, with the romance added in. But it comes naturally. Pours out of you with an unexpected ease that has Cami leaning into her husband’s shoulder, green eyes twinkling as you speak.

“And then one afternoon, Stevie bought me a drink and walked it over to where I was standing by myself. My friend had just left to use the restroom, and here he stood…all tall, dark, and handsome. We started talking that night and just realized how easy it was to be around one another. I’d never talked so much on a first date, and yeah—I considered that our first date. After that we spent nearly every day together. It didn’t take long for us both to realize we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. Some might think it was rushed, but there’s that saying, right? When you know, you know. And with my school starting up again, and us wanting so badly to get married, we thought no time like the present. Now here we are.”

For emphasis, you lean forward. Close enough that Steve’s eyes cross, his mouth dropping a hint at the corners, before twitching upward when your lips press against the corner of his mouth. A tentative press of your skin just barely against his. You linger with your forehead against his, trying not to focus on the temperature in the room, or how it feels it’s creeping higher and higher with every passing moment you remain connected to him.

“Here we are,” Steve echoes, breath fanning against your bottom lip.

Were you to even move an inch, your mouths would connect. A thought he must have as well, because he brings his thumb up and taps your bottom lip gently, nuzzling your nose until you hear the excitable clapping of Cami’s hands where she’s sitting on the living room touch. Pushing the hem of your summer dress down back around your knees, you shift and take in the older man sitting across from you. His eyes are narrowed on your face, a twitch not unnoticed in his cheek as he jolts to his feet and suggests Steve and him have a little bit of time as ‘cousins’ on the private patio. Noticing your hesitance at him leaving your side, Steve brushes a gentle kiss against your forehead, pours you another glass of champagne, and promises he’ll be right back.

With the door closed and the men left to their own devices, you look over to Cami. Cami, the picture of beauty. An image of a woman who walks in this world of the elites and has no qualms about it; steps into it and commands it, whereas you’re still walking around on wobbly legs like a baby deer. Even her clothes look like they were made for her. Luxurious fabrics that ebb and flow with her every movement, high neck of her summer dress leading to a gorgeous diamond necklace falling to the hollow of her throat.

Across from her, your dress suddenly feels too tight. Gifted by your mother-in-law who insisted she owned her own fashion line, and therefore absolutely must dress her only daughter. A quick phone call wherein you protested her suggestions ended with a ring from the doorman alerting you a delivery of multiple garments had arrived for you. Various dresses for each occasion, pants, shoes, blouses and anything you could imagine ever needing were added to your closet. All elaborate in design, and becoming for a new wife to the CEO of a major contracting company. The biggest the city touted, if you were completely honest with yourself.

Today you wore an off the shoulder floral patterned dress and the diamond earrings gifted by your mother-in-law as a bridal shower gift. You’d pushed aside the thought of heels for the afternoon; instead opted for a comfy pair of sandals that were maybe in their last season of use, but now they only looked garish in the light beside the Gucci pumps on Cami’s feet.

Comparison, this ugly weed of a thing, grew up within you against your better wishes. Robbed you of what little air fell in and out of your lungs as you sat there, sipping your champagne. You didn’t care for these preconceived ideas of what a Harrington wife should look like, right? You were your own person, had been long before him, and would continue to be so after him. Yet sitting there, watching her gracefully move about the room, and commenting on the pictures you’d added from the wedding, reminds you of how some people were meant for this life. Some people were raised for it.

You were not.

“He looks so in love with you,” Cami trills, fingers running along the silver edge of your photo frame, lifting it nearer to her face for inspection. You know exactly which one it is. Jonathan had told the two of you to look one another in the eyes and press your foreheads together. He’d draped your veil over the both of you, the setting sun basking you both in a golden hour halo. It’s dreamy. A shot so dreamy it’s easy to believe it is of a man deeply in love with his bride. “That new love look. Cherish it. You know how these Harrington men are.”

Actually…you don’t.

You’re not interested in even asking her what she intends by her words, but when she places the photo back down and turns your way, there’s a glimmer of something wet on her lower lashes. Awkwardly, you clear your throat, reaching over and offering to refill her glass. She heartily accepts, fingers combing through long amber locks as she settles back down on the couch across from you, crossing her legs once more. Again, she’s the statuesque image of perfection; cracks visible in her foundation, yet devastatingly beautiful all the same.

“You’ve got the best one,” she sniffles, grasping a piece of cheese and a cracker within her index and pointer. “Stevie is a sweetheart. Always has been. Theobald is hard on him, and I always try to tell him to ease up. The late Mr. Harrington was always so rough on his son as it is without Theo breathing down his neck.”

The late Mr. Harrington.

You knew very little of him. From what you’ve gathered—the very scraps of things here and there, as Steve never really mentioned him—their relationship, while his father had been alive, was a strained one. His parents had him later in life; a quick Google search would show as much. The heir to the company born with a silver platter before him, wanting for naught, pushed into the limelight.

Still, hearing Cami talk about Steve…with pity—grief tightens like a vice around your heart. Envisioning those hazel eyes of your husband, staring up expectantly at a man who never saw his son’s achievements for what they were. And now, at his young age, trying to make his late father proud at the expense of his own self.

Long hours, constant meetings, coaching calls. Pushing, striving, hustling.

With a long sigh, you glance toward the outside patio, where you can see your husband with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. His left hand curls around the stem of his glass, hand gesticulating wildly in the air as he talks with Theobald, hair in disarray. Like he’s been raking his fingers through it. Eyes trail his shoulders next, along the contours of sinewy muscle, then further up where you can visibly see the rigidity in his form.

“Steve is…”

Your voice breaks, eyes tipping downward to your bubbly drink in hand. Cami’s fingers curl around your wrist, a sympathetic frown lining her pristine features, and you know she’s thinking you’re caught up in your emotions. But in reality, it’s because there are so many things he is, all of which swirl like a muddied mess in your hazy mind.

“Steve is a good man. He’s the best man. I’m really lucky to have him.”

When you glance up, there he is, grin gracing his features. It’s plain as day he’s heard you; those stiff shoulders slacken. Tension eases from the curve of his mouth, as well as in the grip of his fingers around his glass. Instead his face morphs into elation, feet carrying him over to where you sit so he can once more slide an arm around your waist and tug you close.

Theobald regards you carefully in the distance, taking in the way you slide into the crook of your husband’s chest, seeking the warmth of him. The comfort of someone in your corner, seated in a room ripe with scrutiny.

“Thank you,” Steve whispers against your ear, just as Cami dives into conversation about her and Theo’s children, revealing photo after photo of their adorable faces on her iPhone screen.

“We’re the Harringtons, aren’t we?”

He chuckles brightly, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

Day shifts into evening.

Conversations drift around lighter topics. Talks of your schooling, your plans for the future, the business you’ve started. A fact which, to your unamusement, Theobald finds more than mildly intriguing when he later corners you in the kitchen as Steve and Cami flip through the photos she had taken at the wedding on her phone (despite Steve’s pitying gazes for you to rescue him). Instead, you’d offered to start cleaning up, knowing your husband and you had dinner plans with another couple from the office.

“A dog walking business…” He mutters, elbow dropping down onto the counter. “How quaint.”

“It’s extra money,” you say simply, placing a watery glass into the drying rack. “You’re a businessman, aren’t you? Isn’t it better to make all my money now while I’m younger?”

“That I am. And I would agree,” he murmurs, eyes trailing your profile. “It’s just curious since you know how wealthy your husband is. He’s CEO of the company now, and that’s not even counting the hefty inheritance he got as the sole Harrington son. That kind of money is generational. He could never work another day in his life and be well off.”

“My husband is supportive of my endeavors,” you grumble out, training your eyes on the kitchen backsplash.

“Obviously,” he agrees goodnaturedly. “He loves you. Everyone can see it. All of a sudden our hard working golden child is leaving the office at normal times, running home to his lovely wife. I just hope he knows what he’s doing.”

Heat flashes like lava in your gut over the revelation that your ruse is working. It’s hindered by Theobald’s latter statement, mind stuttering over his blasé persona. The question as to whether or not Steve knows what he’s doing. Trying to hide your piqued interest, you harden your expression into one of neutrality.

As your mouth opens to speak, Cami cuts you off with a shrill, “Theobald, they have to get ready for their dinner. We’ve overstayed our welcome. But I would absolutely love for us to do this again!”

Uncertain if you’re happy or sad about this latest development because you still needed further clarity over Theo’s words, you place the remaining glasses into the drying rack and slide your rings back into place, pressing yourself into Steve’s side as he approaches. For a dramatic flair, you even press your left hand to his abdomen, rings glinting in the light, head leaning against his chest as you wish them a wonderful rest of their evening.

Theobald gives you one last fleeting look just when his wife nearly strangles you in another bear hug, and claps a hand against his younger cousin’s shoulder. “We will definitely have to do this again. It was nice officially meeting you, Mrs. Harrington.”

The doors slide closed and a sigh spills from your lips. Against you, Steve relaxes, hand rubbing up and down the length of your spine idly, eyes still fixed on the doors across from him. Slipping away from him, you quickly gather the rest of the snacks and glasses from the living room table and drop them down into the sink, pinching at the bridge of your nose.

“Is he always like that?” You wonder out loud, whirling around to face Steve.

His head jerks at your words, mouth pulling southward. The solidness of his right hip rests against the kitchen counter. You try to not dawdle on the way his bicep twitches as it rests on the surface beside him, nor as his fingers sprawl around the base of his jaw, keeping his head propped up.

“He’s usually worse,” he admits. “What did he say to you?”

“Just commented on my business,” you tell him, deciding to ease in with that before asking what his cousin had meant by ‘hoping Steve knows what he’s doing’, moving to place a plate in the drying rack. “He couldn’t seem to fathom how I would resort to the life of a peasant, when I should be rolling around in your endless buckets of money.”

Snorting, he teases, “Someone’s angry.”

“Yeah, and for once not at you, so I’d be thankful.” Your nose wrinkles as he barks out a laugh, head tipping back in his glee. Mirth bubbles up within your belly at the lyrical sound spilling from your husband, the way his cheeks stretch wide on his face, how the corners of his eyes crinkle in his happiness. “I told him I liked what I do. Is that so wrong? I like having my own thing. Just like you have your own thing.”

Without a warning, he turns the water off. Grips your shoulders lightly, turning you to him. “Theo is an entitled idiot, okay? He thinks he runs the company and the world, and anyone who doesn’t live like him is beneath him. Notice how he’s got this constant look on his face of disgust?”

At that, your lips twitch. Steve coaxes it further by shaking you slightly, earning a giggle. “He does kind of look like he hates everyone around him. It’s a wonder he married Cami. She seems sweet.”

“She is sweet. A saint for putting up with him for all these years, honestly,” Steve says, giving you one last shake until you’re wiping your hands off and slouching against his frame. “What?”

“I want a selfish hug,” you grumble against his shirt, face pressing into a sternum.

“A selfish hug?” You can hear the questioning lilt, the probing in his kind voice.

Nodding, you step closer. The tips of your sandals meet his leather shoes, hem of your dress spilling over the dark material. Your head shifts just the slightest, ear resting over the curve of his chest, relishing in the warmth of another body. This. Hugging? It’s not new. You’ve been practicing. As odd as that sounds, and though you don’t want to unpack it, since your argument with Steve he’s come home every day and greeted you with one. You’d say you’re pros at this point.

“And what might a selfish hug be?” He muses, hands coming up to rest against the center of your back.

“I just stand like this,” you begin, dropping your arms to your sides, letting them dangle at your hips. “And you hold me.”

You can feel the vibration of his laugh against your ear, but his arms tighten around you all the same, holding you in place. Melting into him, you rest in the comfort of his embrace. Merely focus on the sound of his breath pouring in and out of his lungs, the gentle beat of his heart beneath your ear, the brush of his thumb against your skin, soothing you.

“You’re too much,” he says, but there’s no weight behind the words. Can feel his mouth curling upward against your ear.

“Thanks, Steve.”

For the evening. For helping you in a time of need. For holding you now. For holding you tomorrow. You’re not really sure you know what you mean. But all you do know for certain is that, when his arms tug you closer, you loop yours around his waist, and your selfish hug becomes a real one.

Lightning streaks the sky. Bright white illuminates your bedroom, then settles into dark once more. A loud boom echoes, rattling the foundations of your home. Jolts your bed, and thus your body out of it. Grasping at your chest, you try to tamper the frantic rise and fall. The rush of breath forcing itself in and out of your screaming lungs, ejected from your dreams into waking so suddenly.

Another flash sparks your room in a moonlit glow. Falls dark a second later as you brace for the crack of sound that pierces your ears after. Groaning, you grasp the edge of a fluffy blanket on the foot of your bed and curl it around your shoulders, padding through your home in search of the living room, sights set on watching Netflix until you fall back asleep from reruns of your favorite shows.

Only upon entering, you find you’re not alone. Already doused in colorful light from the episode of New Girl playing on the screen is none other than your husband. Where you’re standing you can see the frames of the thin glasses he wears, the unkempt bed hair at the top of his head, the hoodie pulled over his body to block out the air conditioned chill in the living room.

“You’re awake…” It comes out hoarse, the rasp of your voice drawing your husband’s attention. “And you’re watching without me?”

The mock gasp has him moving over on the couch to make space for you, your rear dropping down into the couch cushion beside him. There’s another blanket across his lap, impossibly soft and a pretty navy color that pops against the pale fabric of your carpet. Getting comfortable, you unloop yours from around your shoulders and drape it across your bare thighs, sleep shorts doing very little to block out the chill in the air. Once satisfied, you lean back and watch the chaos between Jess and Nick unfolding on the television screen.

“What are you doing awake?” you ask after some time. Wince as another boom of thunder rattles the walls of your home.

“Couldn't sleep,” he says, breaking off into a yawn. “Had a lot on my mind.”

“From dinner or…?”

Dinner itself hadn’t been stressful—at least nothing that occurred would have alluded to as much. You’d met up at an Italian restaurant with a business partner of Steve’s and the business partner’s husband. Two older men in their fifties, with graying hair and a kindness that radiated from them. Most of the conversation had been of things outside of work, so you’re uncertain as to what might be bothering him.

“Not dinner,” he confirms, pausing the show on the TV screen. His head rolls back to rest against the plush cushion, hands coming up to press into his face. Slides his palm down the contours, exhaling deeply. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh,” you mutter softly, picking at a nonexistent thread on the edge of your blanket. “That’s fine. I just figured—”

“It’s nothing personal toward you. I just don’t want to bother you with it. Why are you up?” He queries, head turning to look in your direction.

“You never bother me.”

Steve levels you with a blank stare and you laugh. “I’m not afraid of thunder…but it definitely woke me,” you admit quietly, sounding more than a forlorn without meaning to. “My room gets really dark at night with the curtains, so when it lit up from the lightning I was a little spooked.”

“Understandably,” he says. “Want me to grab you coffee or tea or something?”

Head perking up, you ask, “Do we still have the camomile? If it’s no trouble, I mean…”

“I wouldn’t be asking you if it was,” he says, but there’s no hint of any condescension there, only his increasingly familiar thoughtfulness.

You lean your chin over the top of the couch to catch the retreating form of Steve’s back swathed in his dark hoodie. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do,” he says, starting up your warm drink. “Want anything else? We still have those chocolate covered strawberries from dinner.”

“Do you want the chocolate strawberries from dinner?”

His grin turns wry. “Maybe.”

“Bring them over, you grown up baby,” you tease, extending a hand so he can place the covered plate in your awaiting palm.

Peeling back the tinfoil, you rest the tray on the coffee table, hiking your blanket higher around your thighs. Steve’s pouring hot water into a mug that says ‘Future Veterinarian,’ humming a familiar tune as he works.

“You usually do honey and…a bucket load of sugar, right?”

Eyes roll. “I like a spoonful of honey in my camomile and nothing else. The sugar is for my iced coffees, thank you very much. Also thank you for making sure Hopper always has it on standby lately.”

“What’s that thing you said to me when we first talked about us getting married?” He taps his chin mock thoughtfully, his other hand twirling a spoon around the inside of your cup. “Happy wife, happy life starts with always knowing her coffee order.”

It’s true, and you hide your lips behind your palm at the realization he’d been listening as he crosses the space between you and rests the steaming mug in your hand, muttering quickly, “Be careful, it’s really hot.”

“Thank you,” you say as he drops back down into the couch and plucks a chocolate covered strawberry off the tray. “I know you didn’t want to talk about what’s bothering you…but I figure…I don’t know. It’s storming out, we’re both not getting much sleep tonight, we could play a game or something.”

“A game?”

Nodding, you add, “An icebreaker. I know we talk more now, but we could try and get to know each other better. A little look into the person we married.”

Your husband shifts on the couch beside you. Presses his back into the arm rest and stretches out, arching a brow pointedly. Smirking, you do the same. Shift just enough so your back is up against the opposite end, your socked feet just barely brushing Steve’s.

“Okay. Night out or night in?” you ask.

“Before…night out.”

“Before?”

“Well, now you force me to watch Gilmore Girls.”

“I don’t force you! And it’s only been a few days. I’m sure it’s an absolute horror of spending time with the woman you fake married,” you gasp, feigning terror. “Just admit it. You like spending time at home.”

His eyes are set on yours as he says, “I like spending time at home.”

“I’d agree for myself as well. Life is so busy as it is lately, it’s nice having a space to come back to.”

One thing you’re very grateful for on a growing list is the space your new bedroom has given you. Sure, it can get lonely, but it’s an escape from the long days, a haven from stress, a bed to crawl back to when your eyes can hardly stay open any longer after a particularly hard day at clinicals.

“My turn,” Steve says, crossing his arms over his middle. And no, you don’t allow heat to crawl across your chest at the mere sight of his chest and arms flexing from the motion. “Would you rather go forward or backward in time?”

“And what would be my purpose of going forward or backward? Am I rectifying my mistakes? Seeing the future? Looking to see how my life pans out?”

“I…it’s whatever you want it to be.” He blanches.

“I don’t really have a lot of regrets in life. I make a choice and however the cookie crumbles is how it crumbles. Exhibit A,” you say, holding aloft your left hand, where two rings glint in the dim living room. “So I probably would want to go forward. But that’s dangerous, because if you go too far forward, you might see things you don’t like. I definitely wouldn’t want to know how I, uh, you know? Check out of here. What about you?”

Steve pauses for a moment, brows drawn in thought. “Honestly? There are things I’d want to change about the past, sure. But I think I’d want to see the future. See if all I’m doing is worth it, you know?”

“You don’t think what you’re doing right now is worth it?” You wonder if he’s talking about the business. Assume he must be, but don’t press any further.

“I wonder sometimes, yeah,” he admits.

“Well, what would you be doing if it weren’t what you’re doing right now? To see if something else would potentially be worth it.”

He rubs a hand along his neck, shrugging. “I thought about being a teacher once. My dad thought that was a silly idea. But I’ve always been good with children, and I think I could have been good at that.”

“You are good with children,” you tell him, thinking to Will and El. To the friends you’d met at dinner in the past weeks who brought their little ones. “I don’t think that’s a silly idea at all. Not in the slightest, and I’m sorry if anyone ever made you feel that way. Like your interests were inconsequential.”

“Thank you.” Clearing his throat, he asks, “Movie night or date night?”

“Are you asking me on a date?” His eyes grow wide at that. Cheeks darken visibly in the moonlit living room. “I’m teasing you, Harrington. I think there’s a case that those can be one in the same. I would say broader…I love the idea of going out for a date, but I love those inside sort of dates more. They’re more intimate, there’s the comfort of your shared spaces, the fact there aren’t any crowds around you. Only that important quality time with your partner.”

“I don’t have much to contribute there, seeing as I haven’t dated much in the past year. And now I won’t be for another three years.” He chuckles, combing fingers through his hair.

“Okay, this question is super serious.” You fold your hands across your midsection, inhaling deeply, eyes shut. “Would you rather have a third nipple or an extra toe?”

“Seriously!”

“I’m very serious, Steve.”

“Extra toe.” He reaches up to rub the back of his neck again, wincing slightly as he presses into a spot between his shoulder blades.

Your lips tug southward. “Are you hurting?”

“Just my office chair, I’m sure,” he grumbles, nonchalant.

“Get on the floor.”

His brows arch. “Huh?”

“On the floor,” you repeat, tapping the space in front of you on the carpet below. “In front of me.”

“Why?”

“Do you trust me?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, long limbs slip off the edge of the couch and settle down where you’ve asked. You move to tuck his hoodie in as best as you can, fingers moving to spread across the slope of his shoulders. He exhales deeply at the first press of your hands in the muscle wrought with tension. A low sigh spills free, head tipping back to rest on the cushion nearest to your knee. Fingers crave to brush the hair along his scalp, to see if he’ll make that same, soft sigh once more. But instead you continue, pressing slowly into his flesh, listening to his cues, figuring out what works and doesn’t.

“Would you rather have a big family or a small one?” You ask after Steve has gone quiet, thinking back briefly to the moment earlier with Theobald and Cami.

Steve, with his wishes to be a father. Steve, who wants a huge brood of Harrington babies. Steve, who wants a family.

And yet it’s not even that. Not the questions as to what he sees for his future. It’s the tangible worry of slipping up in your facade. Of revealing too many cracks in the foundations of your dynamics. That had been the first, and you know if this relationship is going to hold up for three years, communication is a must. Absolute transparency at all times, so as to not muck it all up and land yourselves both in some hot water.

“Growing up, it was just me. My parents had me a little older in their life. They were already further into their careers by the time I was born. So…it was often just the au pair and myself,” he explains, letting go of another deep breath.

His body slackens against your knee caps. Warm flesh of your husband pliant beneath your fingertips.

“I always had this dream of giving my kids the opposite of what I had. Always knowing love, family outings, doing everything with them. Dance class, football, acting—whatever they wanted. And I’d wanted as many as possible. A silly dream of six of them, running all over the world together as a family.”

“It’s not a silly dream. None of your dreams are ever silly, Steve.”

Warmth pools as Steve slides his hand up and covers yours where it rests against his shoulder. Heart stuttering, you continue, “Your family will be lucky to have you some day. I, for one, haven’t given much thought to that aspect of life. I hope Theo and Cami didn’t find that suspect. I just…”

“Have been busy with school. You’re becoming a doctor, that’s time and hard work. No one can fault you for that.”

“Right. Yeah.”

You resume your kneading, fingers stroking at shoulders, down the sides of his neck, attentive to all the tension. He grows softer beneath your fingertips, head against your knee, his eyes closed. Where you’re sitting you can see the moles on his face, the length of his lashes, the lines of his nose. Pretty. He’s pretty, and it’s always something you’ve known, but being so close—

“Sunrise or sunset,” Steve asks.

“Hmm, sunrise.” You poke at the middle of his forehead, and hazel eyes meet yours. “That one was simple.”

“I could tell you were overthinking,” he says simply. “We’re not going to be perfect at this marriage thing. But no one expects us to be.”

“I still think we need to get our stories straight at the very least. And I sorta messed that one up with the honeymoon baby thing.” You shrug, palms sliding down a bit onto his upper chest. He’s still sitting there, taking you in with his stare, hand around yours. “Kind of why I suggested this game.”

He offers you a gentle smile, saying, “Then let’s keep going.”

The conversation continues until the sun begins to change colors. Until the rain has since stopped, voices carrying above the television playing low in the background. You learn Steve’s a romantic; loves movies like the Titanic and The Notebook. And will also admit to enjoying some of the same romantic comedies you do.

He prefers rainy days, because he enjoys the respite they give from a constantly busy city just outside the walls of your home. He’d rather have happiness than wealth; enjoys chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven for dessert (and you make a note to pick up some stuff to make them on your next planned night together); he’d never had any pets growing up, but he’d love a dog.

And you tell him about yourself. How you love cozy socks and would prefer scrubs over real clothes; how you also never had pets growing up and would love to adopt and foster as many as possible one day; how you enjoyed fantasy over romantic movies; how you’d watched Titanic about a hundred times in your life and you still cried.

How you wanted to watch it with him next, and he agreed, stating it would be the next thing you do when you cook together.

Before long he’s yawning and your eyes are closing. His fingers remain around yours as you knead his muscles, prattling on about your plans for the week, school, your friends. And he talks about his own schedule, his meetings, proposes dinner for the both of you that upcoming Saturday. A cooked meal in, with a movie and some wine. Maybe you tease him a little, because he makes it easy when he blushes that pretty pink, and maybe he grins up at you fondly, eyes hooded in his sleepy daze.

Eventually, you lay on your side and he remains in front of you on the floor. You’re hardly awake as he drapes a blanket over your form and tucks a pillow under your head, whispering to one another as the sun starts to come up over the city.

Eventually, both of you fall silent at last, comforting sleep there to find you.

“I want to make it very clear before we go in there that we are not getting a dog. We are donating all the things we bought earlier, and then we are going home and having dinner together,” Steve reiterates for the umpteenth time that day.

“We are not getting a dog,” you repeat, mock stonily, looking your husband dead in the eyes.

Clearly unamused, he shoves at the arm you have jokingly curled around his forearm, but there’s no malice there. Only a gentle huff of laughter as he opens his car door and rushes around the other side to help you out. You never need him to, but he insists every time. Even offers an arm for you to grab as you hop onto the sidewalk. Once back on solid land, summer dress dancing around your kneecaps, Steve walks around to the back of the car and lifts the box of pet food, blankets and toys you’d picked up while at the pet store. Today, you decided, you wanted to give back to the local shelter in your new town.

And maybe you had an ulterior motive of trying to realize a dream of your husband’s by making him fall in love with a shelter dog in a way where his only option is to bring them home to live with you forever. But he’s been adamant all morning—so certain today’s events will not lead to four legs becoming part of your odd little family.

Inside, you’re greeted by one of the workers. A woman named Chelsea rushes around the counter to collect your donations and asks if you’d like to walk around a bit. Steve’s reluctant at your side, sunglasses peeled off and tucked into the neck of his shirt, but he comes along all the same as you grip his palm within your own and drag him along behind you.

You pass dozens of kittens and cats. Young and old all alike as you go. Some who meow as you pass, and others who linger in dark corners of their confines. It breaks your heart seeing so many, wanting to adopt them all, knowing you’re unable to. Sensing your unease, Steve squeezes your hand tighter and listens for the both of you while Chelsea speaks and your mind wanders.

“Down here are all our adoptable dogs.”

It’s a sight you never get used to. Dogs barking as you pass, bodies brushing against their cages, yearning for attention. You linger by Chelsea as you walk, rubbing noses and ears and backs. Tongues glide over your palm, wet noses brush your skin, dark eyes hold yours through metal bars. Somewhere in the midst of introducing yourself to all your newest furry friends, you find Steve’s hand is no longer in yours. Turning on the heel, you find him crouched low to the ground, fingers curled inside metal bars, softly speaking to the animal hidden within.

“Oh,” Chelsea mutters, shock evident in her tone. Steve looks up to her imploringly, then glances back at the dog inside. “That’s a new arrival. A ten month old male Bernedoodle. He’s a black tricolor puppy. His previous owners got him as a gift, and turned him over when he started getting bigger. They’re a smaller breed, but have a lot of energy and unfortunately you see a lot of this happening. People buy luxury pets and drop them off when they become too much. He’s been very timid since he arrived.”

“He just lost his family,” Steve says to no one, swallowing thickly. The woman at your side doesn’t speak, only watches as your husband continues to gently coax the puppy forward. “Hey buddy. I’m Steve. Wanna come over here? No?”

“Should we…” the woman beside you begins.

“Yeah, let’s give them a moment,” you mutter, a little breathless as you turn around and face the other direction, quiet footsteps carrying you further away.

But you still hear it.

Still hear Steve’s voice in your ears. A sad, “I know what it’s like. Feeling left behind, left alone. Especially from the people you want to love you most. But you don’t need to be afraid of me. I get it.”

There’s an echo of soft paws padding against a tiled floor. And the soft exhale from Steve. “There you go. See, I’m your friend. I’m here. You don’t have to be afraid.”

And when you and the shelter worker turn around, you find Steve with his fingers in the puppy’s fur, that pink tongue of his brushing over the inside of your husband’s wrist. That resolve in Steve’s eyes crumbles, your heart shattering along with it as you press the heel of your palm to your sternum.

He turns to Chelsea and asks, “Can we take him out? Just for a minute?”

Chelsea passes you a knowing look and that minute Steve requests turns into an hour in the yard outside of the shelter. The puppy seems hesitant at first, lingering near Steve’s thighs as you stand nearby. But once Chelsea hands Steve a frisbee and ball, it’s as though the puppy is sparked to life once more. Soon enough he’s frolicking around the field, playful yips streaking the summer silence as he retrieves his toys and rushes back over to Steve, paws pouncing playfully against your husband’s designer jeans.

But he doesn’t care.

No—you haven’t seen him light up like this in the nearly three months you’ve been married. The joy illuminated his features. The crinkle of his eyes at the corners. The belly laughs as the puppy eventually knocks him to the ground and demands belly rubs on the grassy floor below. He falls in love before your eyes. With no warning, impossibly fast, and so suddenly it comes as no shock to either you nor Chelsea when he asks about adoption.

As you sit in the lobby with the puppy on a leash on the floor, you turn to Steve, grinning widely. “You said we weren’t getting a dog.”

Steve pats his new fur son’s head and grins as the dog tips his head back to look longingly into his new father’s eyes. It’s sickeningly sweet, and does things to your insides that makes you feel hot all over. You chalk it up to the shoddy air conditioner system, tugging at the neckline of your dress to let the air chill your slick skin.

“I couldn’t leave him,” he says, brushing fingers along a furry ear.

“He picked you.”

“He did, didn’t he?” Fond. Smitten. He’s so in love it’s ridiculous, and all you feel is affection.

Affection.

Towards your husband.

New. But maybe not so scary.

You lean down to pet the puppy’s neck. He jumps up and scrambles up with his front paws against your lap, licking a broad stripe along your chin. “Steve, we have a puppy.”

Your first pet.

His, too.

“Yeah,” he says, but he’s only staring at you. You swallow. “I guess we do.”

A few questions and references and a small adoption fee later, and you’re both the newest proud parents of your still presently unnamed new puppy who pokes his head in the front seat as you drive to the nearest pet store in search of all the things you’ll need to make his transition as simple as possible.

Steve, ever doting as he is, grabs the leash as soon as he helps the little guy out and greets you as usual on your side of the vehicle. You spend the better half of the afternoon purchasing things for him. A dog bed, food, toys, a new collar with his name and address engraved into it.

Charlie Harrington, you both eventually decide, when the cashier asks how you’d like it engraved.

Charlie Harrington, who the doormen at your apartment building immediately fall in love with as you later walk in, you holding the puppy’s leash this time, and Steve trying his hardest to carry all the things you bought.

Charlie Harrington who bounds happily into your home and immediately starts sniffing around in his new space, excited to simply be around people who love him in such a short span of time and want to play with him like he deserves.

“I’ll get started on dinner, if you want to show your fur child around the house,” you tease, laying out Charlie’s shiny new bowls on the floor, and the basket of toys and bones you got for him in the living room, right by his bed beside it.

“You are a sneaky woman,” he jokes, coming up behind you in the kitchen.

Heat blooms where he rests his hand on your shoulder and presses a kiss to your cheek like it’s something he’s done before in the confines of your home, with no one looking. So casually, and yet stark in contrast to the riot of butterflies that stir to life in your stomach.

“And why might that be?”

“Played that ice breaker game with me, found out I never had a pet, and then brought me to a shelter…where I then got a pet.”

You shrug, turning on the stovetop to let the water boil. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But you’re welcome. Now go—play with him. I know you’re itching to. You’re like a little kid on Christmas right now. It’s kind of cute, Harrington.”

“Thank you.”

He smacks another kiss to your cheek, his face pink from your compliment, before rushing into the living room where you hear Charlie barking as he’s once again joined by his new best friend. You reach over to tap Steve’s phone, where Spotify is already open from the car ride, and hit ‘play,’ Leon Bridges the background music to your cooking in the kitchen and Steve’s laughter as he crawls on his hands and knees to rub Charlie’s stomach on the floor.

Perfect.

It’s about as perfect as a day could be.

And later, as you sit together in the dining room, with Charlie sitting patiently in the corner, and talk about the evening, you start to think maybe being married to Steve Harrington for three years will be a little more difficult than you imagined it would be.

Because the feelings stirring in your chest are beyond that of friendship.

No—there’s a suddenness to the clarity of your realization that you like your husband. And the sinking reality that this is merely transactional.

In three years you’ll go your separate ways. Just as you both intended months ago at that coffee shop table.

“You’re overthinking again,” Steve points out, reaching over to center your engagement ring on your left hand. His thumb lingers over the diamonds. “I was telling you about the benefit gala in a few weeks.”

“Oh,” you mutter tiredly. “Sorry. Yeah, uhm, I’ll go. Obviously. It’s part of our arrangement.”

“If you don’t want to go with me…”

“No, I’ll go,” you say, taking a sip of your wine glass. “Black tie dinner event, I’m assuming?”

“Buy yourself a new dress kind of event, yeah.”

“Okay, yeah.”

You nod.

It’ll be October.

Approaching four months into your agreement. Time is already flying.

“Our first big event as a couple outside of our wedding,” you state plainly, gathering your things and Steve’s as you rise to your feet. He grabs the wine glasses and follows you down the hall to your kitchen, dumping all your dirty pasta plates inside. “Anyone I should know or be aware of when we’re there?”

“It’s a lot of partners in the company. Some celebrities, actors, musicians, models. Eddie will be there—he’s been invited. It’s a little bit of everyone. This time they’ve organized donations for a shelter for homeless youth in the city.” He hands you your wine glass, peering into your eyes. Noting your lingering hesitance from your overthinking once more, he continues, “I can cancel you as my plus one. Say you’re not feeling well—”

“No,” you place a hand on his sternum. Pause when you realize what you’ve done. He trails his eyes south where you touch. You don’t move away. “I love the purpose of the benefit. I want to be there. I-I want to go with you.”

“Good,” he says, stepping closer. You could reach out and touch the outline of his jaw like this. The lines of his perfect nose. “Because I want you there with me.”

You don’t miss the way his stare lingers on your face, or the timber of his voice. The darkness in the depths of his eyes. How the weight of his chest against your palm as he pushes forward has it stuck as a barrier between the two of you. Mere inches of separation.

It’s confusing, maddening, and terrifying all the same.

Two years and nine months.

You’ve got this.

#lunalovessteve #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #Steve Harrington x reader #fake husband!steve harrington #steve harrington modern au #modern!steve harrington #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x fem!reader

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year ago

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thank u @zenstrike for the tag <333333333 i see ur mic and i'm elated about it

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

185! but i haven't updated in like a week and a half so we're probably closer to 190

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

556,104. i am very excited to watch it jump up when i finally finish my longfic teehee

3. what fandoms do you write for?

literally just voltron lol. well not counting baby me's wattpad lol. i started writing almost two years ago and just went ham basically. i've been intentionally avoiding things that i know i will get hyperfixated on bc i don't want to stop my writing obsession lol

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

ooooou i'm excited to check. i know it's changed quite a bit over time. i usually sort them by hits!

i will grind you to sand (beneath my louboutin heels) [voltron, 2573 words]: bamf lance fic where i give him a revolver and let him go ham basically

mr. snuggles [voltron, 1656 words]: one of my very earliest fics! lance, lover of weirdo animals, finds a demonic cat-sized spider and adopts it despite his friend's freakouts

he might not look like he gets bitches (but honey that dick was eleven inches) [voltron, 1136 words]: this one is so dorky lol but it's just secret relationship klance coming to light in the most embarrassing possible way

does anyone know where the love of god goes (when the waves turn the minutes to hours) [voltron, 4283]: a canon divergence au where lance is a seer and convinces the skeptics on his team of his abilities by ending the war

this is the part of me that you're never gonna ever get away) [voltron, 3262 words]: a lance & shiro hurt/comfort with a small autistic lance character study! i'm very proud of this one

5. do you respond to comments?

i definitely do on tumblr! it's one of the first things i do when i wake up actually. on ao3, though...i'm pretty sure i have about eight hundred unanswered comments sitting in my inbox 💀 it's an ongoing issue

6. what’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i'm almost sure it's this post-game show lance leaving fic, because i got comments and asks for weeks begging me to write a happy ending lol. but this fic from the hana universe, from when keith is little and shiro is fighting for custody and they haven't figured things out yet. that one is sad. this dream pov adashi fic is also sad and has no happy ending bc, you know. shiro is in space and adam thinks he's dead and everything. my loneliest series is also still in progress and as such there is no happy ending. and this is my earliest angsty-ending fic with MCD

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

oh god pretty much everything i write has a happy ending?? if i’m being serious?? frankly i don’t do a lot of linear plot. i just write Scenes that are vaguely connected. BUT my h2o fic had a plot that ended happily, as did my cowboy fic, but truly i’m more of a slice of life kinda gal. all my active wips are plot-driven, though, and i plan for all of them to end happily.

8. do you get hate on fics?

oh god yeah. i get it on brown eyed lance, autistic lance, adhd keith, allura just in general (are you sensing a pattern), my refusal to use readmores, and lately just some demands for me to write differently/more?? most of it is just funny so i post it to goof on it lol, but some of it i just delete and pout about until i forget about it 💀

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

yes and it’s nasty and i will literally never ever post it. although i guess i’ve written some softer stuff that’s more allusion than anything, like in my loneliest series.

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

not anymore, but i did when i was a kid?? i think i wrote a pjo/hoo/divergent/the mortal instruments/homestuck/a bunch of other shit fic when i was 13. i’ve successfully blocked that era out of my mind tho so i’m not sure. i do a lot of insane aus, tho. i wrote a fic based off a country song written in the sixties. so.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

i’ve had people write continuations of my wips?? which i didn’t rly like. i just ignored it.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

someone has asked me about translating a fic before! haven’t heard anything since tho.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

i have tried. i’m not very good at it. i have very Specific ideas about things and can be very controlling, so it’s honestly better that i don’t lol.

14. what’s your all-time favorite ship?

klance, easy. been in the trenches of this goddamn fandom since i was 13 years of age. it’s been a Journey.

15. what’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

god, the butterfly effect. i get people asking me to update all the time and i genuinely feel bad, because i have absolutely no ideas or plans for it. i might try to come up with an ending of some kind?? but i wrote that like two years ago, so i have changed a LOT about my writing since then.

16. what are your writing strengths?

dialogue and humour, i think. and sometimes writing lack of emotional communication (if that makes sense — i like to try and write around an emotion).

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

i over explain a lot. and i overuse dialog ur tags sometimes. i have a Very Specific scene playing out in my head and i want everyone else to see it like i’m seeing it, which is my downfall a lot. i’ve been trying to work on implicit stage directions.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i think sometimes it’s necessary? it can be a good tool for humour, like with cussing that can’t be achieved in english. but while i understand and read several languages i have always always struggled to speak or write in them. it’s very frustrating so i often avoid the subject entirely lol.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

i’ve been writing fanfic in my head since before i knew what it was, but i started typing things at around 11 when i used to homestuck roleplay with my friends lol. messy messy times.

20. favorite fic you’ve ever written?

oh i am my own target audience. i have several.

i need a man (who’s patient and kind): keith-centric post canon (divergence) fic where lance takes him to his family and keith is good with kids and just keith being loved is the whole point. always.

what if i lose it all: an alternate universe where lance, as a baby, loses both his parents, and then is raised by his oldest siblings. in luis’ pov.

when does a ripple become a tidal wave (when does the reason become the flame): brogane fight & angst canon divergence post season 6; covering shiro’s guilt complex and keith’s unwavering loyalty

he’s into superstitions (black cats and voodoo dolls): halloween verse with witch lance and vampire keith! i have barely spoken about this au on here but rest assured i’m thinking about it all the fucking time

the applebee’s universe: modern au with young keith and lance learning how to love each other

ceilings (plaster): non-linear dream-like fic that’s just so trippy and strange i’m obsessed with it

if the sky comes falling down (for you) there’s nothing in this world i wouldn’t do: a keith character study about how the biggest bleeding heart in the universe loves

the hana universe: brogane-centric universe as their family starts rocky and grows

thank u again for the tag zen <33 open offer for anyone else who would like to hop on!!

#writer games #?#info #tag game #longpost

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downwiththeficness · 1 year ago

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Shadow and Veil-Chapter Thirty Four

Summary: Eva Moore’s life was a carefully constructed fiction. Every day, she did exactly what her mother in law, her husband, and his best friend expected of her. No mistakes. And, that was going pretty well for Eva right up until a huge complication literally tried to run her over. Now, she’s faced with trying to keep the pieces of her life from falling apart while attempting (and failing) to keep her feelings for her husband’s new business partner at bay.

A/N: This fic is a sister-fic to A Need So Great and A Need Unleashed. You do not need to have read ANSG or ANU to read this fic, but there are Easter eggs from those fics in Shadow and Veil for readers with keen eyes. This fic is explicit for canon-compliant blood, gore, violence, and sex. As such, it is intended for an adult audience, only. A/B/O dynamics come with their own warning. Anyone under the age of 18 should not interact with this work. I do not consent to reposting this work to other platforms. Reblog only to Tumblr.

Word Count: ~4200

Start from the beginning Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Masterlist Read on AO3

Eva sat on the floor in front of the couch with a local newspaper spread out in front of her. To her right was a cup of freshly brewed coffee. To her left was a Spanish to English translation book that Horacio bought for her at the Embassy. Back and forth she went, reading as much as she could from the articles and looking up what she couldn’t.

This routine started the day Horacio returned to work. Eva usually woke while he was in the shower, meandered downstairs to start the coffee, and sat on the back porch until Horacio stepped out to kiss her goodbye. When the morning paper hit the front step, she would carefully lay it out on the floor and start to work her way through it. Article by article, sometimes word by word.

It was tedious work, but Eva could tell she was making slow, steady progress. Where a few weeks ago it would have taken her until lunchtime to read through the whole paper, now it was only taking until mid morning.

She saved the job listings for last.

Eva knew that she wasn’t going to do well in any job where she had to interact with the public—at least, not for a long time. Though she heard it every day, her speaking skills when it came to Spanish were novice, at best. The jobs available to her were going to be few and far between, but Eva forced herself to be patient.

She circled one or two that were close by on a notepad and folded the paper so that Horacio could read it later. Then, she went upstairs and got dressed. She put on a sensible pair of shoes and tucked a some money into her pocket along with an extra pen in case she needed to fill out an application. With a little pep in her step, Eva locked up the house and made her way down the street.

This was also a kind of routine for her.

Without a car, Eva was forced to walk if she wanted to go out during the day. She found that she didn’t mind. The weather usually was mild and sunny with a nice breeze that carried her block by block. On the first few trips, Eva started small and circled back after five or ten minutes so she didn’t get lost. As she grew more confident in knowing where she was, Eva began to branch out in different directions. By now, she knew where to find the local grocer, the nearest gas station, several small restaurants, and a food stand that seemed to be perpetually overflowing with fruit.

It was late afternoon by the time Eva returned to the house. She trudged up the steps, feeling much less enthusiastic than when she left. Inside, she kicked off her shoes and continued the trudge to the kitchen. On the way, she tossed the little scrap of paper with the job listings on it into the trash.

No one wanted to hire a woman with no prior experience who couldn’t even speak the language. Eva didn’t blame them. Not really. But, the rejection stung. She was an accomplished accountant, had years of knowledge to bolster her work—years that she couldn’t even use because Eva Carrillo technically didn’t exist less than a month ago.

She didn’t actually need a job, but something inside her cringed at the thought of laying on the couch all day while Horacio went off to work. Eva was a smart, capable woman. Given the chance, she could earn an honest living.

Cold drink in hand, Eva went to the living room and plopped on the couch. While she sipped from the glass, she thought about how she’d been waved off by a first a middle aged man, then an elderly woman. Neither of them thought she was a good fit for dish washing or shelf stocking. Her ego, fragile as it was, felt deeply bruised.

Eva sighed and, needing a distraction from her thoughts, grabbed the remote. She didn’t much care what was on the TV. She just needed noise. The screen flickered and the sound of an argument filtered through static. Words flew back and forth with passion and precision. The image and sound stabilized to show a man and woman standing on opposite sides of a well decorated room.

Tossing the remote aside, Eva settled in to watch. Half an hour later, she had learned with her meager Spanish that the woman’s name was Maria, the man’s name was Sergio, and they were ex-lovers who just happened to cross each other’s path many years later. Their attraction was as strong as ever and it was clear that whatever had torn them apart (Eva thought it had something to do with a bicycle) had been resolved with time.

The problem? Sergio was engaged to be married to Luz.

The exaggerated emotions and the way the actors sometimes repeated what they were saying helped Eva along in comprehending the story line. By the end of the program, she was actually looking forward to watching the next episode. How else was she going to find out which woman Sergio would eventually marry?

A glance at the clock told her that Horacio would be home soon. She clicked off the TV and went upstairs to shower off the grit of the day. While she picked through her clothes to find an outfit, Eva did her best to forget about her disastrous walk around the town. It was only her first run at getting a job and there was no rush.

She was just applying a bit of lip gloss when she heard the front door open and close. Horacio’s distinctive step moved through the lower level of the house and he called out her name.

“Up here!” Eva called back as she gave her hair a final fluff.

Absently, she listened to his steps as he ascended the stairs. Horacio cleared the doorway at nearly the same time Eva stepped out of the bathroom. He was wearing his uniform, as he did every day he went to work. The slacks still had the crease from where he ironed them, although there were some wrinkles that hadn’t been there before.

On the first day he’d worn the army green shirt and trousers, Eva struggled to keep the smile off her face. Up until that moment, the fact that Horacio was an officer existed only as an abstract concept. An errant reality. Seeing him dressed in the clothes befitting his rank was an odd experience, but Eva couldn’t quite figure out why.

Walking towards her, Horacio looked very much at home in his government issued uniform—although, it was a wonder that they found anything that fit him. His shoulders pulled at the material, straining the yoke of the shirt. The hem of the short sleeve looked like it was digging into his bicep. Even the meticulously sewn buttons fought to keep their place in the buttonholes.

The unit, she guessed, couldn’t afford custom tailoring.

“How was your day?”

Horacio shrugged, “New recruits came in.” He leaned down to kiss her, “Next couple weeks will be their boot camp.”

Eva could just imagine what that was like with Horacio leading it. Green boys being pushed to their limits by their unrelenting Captain. “Make any of them cry?”

One side of his mouth lifted, “No, but its only the first day.”

He turned and began to unbutton his shirt. Eva sat on the end of the bed and leaned back on her elbows. Horacio liked to get out of his uniform as soon as he got home and Eva absolutely did not mind the show. The button up was thrown into the hamper, leaving him in his undershirt. Eva followed the path of his spine down to where his belt was being pulled through the loops. Head tilting to the side, she considered the firm swell of muscle just below.

Horacio had a nice ass and it was displayed particularly well when he bent over to take off his slacks. A lot of people might overlook it, too distracted by the breadth of his chest and shoulders. Eva thought they were missing out.

He reached behind him and tugged off his undershirt, throwing it in the hamper with the rest of his clothes. Eva sighed. It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair. He was so pretty. All thick muscle and brute strength. Eva could look at him all day and still not be satisfied.

Her fingers curled with the need to touch, but she stayed put. Eva liked the tension that built inside her while she watched him pull on a pair of khakis and select a polo shirt from the closet. She liked knowing that, at any point, she could stand up and stop him. That she could draw him over to the bed and strip him back down to bare skin. And, he would let her—willingly, enthusiastically.

Horacio turned and caught her stare. Eva held his gaze unabashedly, letting him know what she was thinking without words. In an uncharacteristic bout of shyness, he ducked his head and smiled softly. Eva matched that smile with one of her own, a warm affection bubbling in her chest.

“I thought,” he said while he walked towards her, “we might go shopping.”

Her brows lifted, “Yeah?”

A nod, “You were saying a few days ago that you wanted to buy a dining room table.”

Eva was surprised he’d heard her. She’d said it while he was standing near the doorway to the dining room with phone to his ear. About every two or three evenings, he would lean against the jamb for at least an hour while someone at work relayed information to him that—for some reason—could not wait until the following morning.

“It would be nice to eat at the table instead of the living room.”

He sat next to her and picked up one of a pair of shoes he kept for when he wasn’t at work, “It would. And, since we’re out, we can grab dinner.”

She smirked, “Is that a dig at my cooking skills?”

Eva was very, very slowly learning to put meals together. Having never really cooked in Louisiana, her abilities were limited. But, she’d figured out how to fry vegetables together and season meat so that it was tender.

Horacio shook his head, “Just thought it would be nice to go out. There’s a place in the city that’s got good food.”

Happy with the suggestion, Eva nudged Horacio’s shoulder and said, “Is there a dress code? Should I change?”

He looked her over, eyes lingering on the way her skirt draped over her thighs, “No. You’re perfect.”

Her heart gave a little flutter at the honesty in his tone. Horacio complimented her nearly every day, saying that he liked her hair or her eyes or, in more intimate moments, how good it felt to be inside her. Eva hoped that she never got used to it. She hoped that she always had a lump in her throat when he said things like that.

Horacio stood and reached for her hand, “C’mon. The store closes in an hour.”

Eva went with him. She held his hand the whole way to the truck, until she climbed into the passenger’s seat and he closed the door behind her. The ride to the furniture store was short and, when Horacio pulled into the parking lot, Eva wondered if they were in the right place. There was no sign out front, no display windows. Just a plain building painted in a soft yellow with and awning over the door.

She followed Horacio’s confident step across the lot. He held the door open for her and she stepped inside. Looking around, she discovered a quaint little shop with antiques scattered around the front room. Down a sloped ramp was a hallway with a ceiling that was almost totally covered in lights of all kinds. Chandeliers, wall sconces, flush lights, all of which glittered happily at her. When she cast Horacio a look of giddy surprise, he smiled as if he’d known all along that she’d be impressed.

From somewhere in the back, a shop owner sauntered forward. He was a short man in his fifties. His mustache twitched over a cigarette that he tapped into a small, glass ashtray held in his other hand. He greeted Horacio as if he’d known him his whole life. A warm handshake, an affectionate pat on the back.

Eva stood off to the side while the two men exchanged pleasantries. In the meantime, she could peruse the wares. To her left was a rocking chair that had little birds carved into its back. The piece was probably over a decade old, but looked very solid. She reached out and tapped the arm, smiling when it rocked back and forth steadily.

To her right was a large cabinet full of glass knickknacks. She stepped up to it and peered inside. Most of the items were novelty. Little angels, a virgin Mary, farm animals. There was a nice goblet or two in the back and a set of china on the lowest shelf. Eva didn’t think they needed anything that formal at the moment, but made a note to come back for it if they ever decided to entertain a large party.

Horacio got her attention. Then, to the store owner, “Mi esposa, Eva. Eva, Señor Abila.”

Señor Abila looked shocked. He pointed at Eva, “¿Tu esposa?”

“Sí.”

Hands clasped in front of his heart, Señor Abila welcomed Eva to the shop. She replied to him meekly and apologized for her Spanish. He waved her off and simply said, “¿Americano, eh?”

They were led further into the building, past the hallway of lights and into a larger room with sofas, love seats, tables, chairs, and other larger furniture. They were shown a few dining room sets, each a little bit different from the last, but all made of solid wood. Eva guessed that most of them were used, but she could tell that they had been thoroughly cleaned. Some of them had a fresh coat of lacquer.

After getting the tour, Señor Abila stepped away to let them ‘discuss��.

Horacio turned to her, “What do you think?”

Eva considered her options, “I think a setting for six is probably the best fit for the room, don’t you?”

He shrugged, “Maybe.”

The non-committal answer made her pause. Did he actually not have an opinion or did he not agree with her? A niggling anxiety worked its way into the back of her mind.

“Um,” she said, “If you have a preference, we can go with that.”

“No,” he replied lightly, “I don’t have a preference, as long as its a good height.”

Eva’s mouth opened in confusion, “Height?”

He hummed in confirmation, as if she should know exactly why a dining room table needed to be the right height. Moving to a set in a soft, yellowish stain, Eva laid her hand on it, “Is this the right height?”

Horacio glanced at it, then walked over and pulled out a chair. He sat down, looking thoughtful. Eva watched his expression closely, completely unable to discern what he might be thinking. At least, until his hands reached up and grasped her hips. Making a soft sound of surprise, Eva let him guide her in front of him until he pressed her back against the table.

“What are you—oh!” Realization dawned on her with striking clarity. She said his name in an embarrassed hiss while she checked to see if the shop owner was looking.

Horacio was unbothered, “Food isn’t the only thing I’m going to eat at this table. I want to make sure we’re both comfortable.”

Hand covering her face, Eva peeked out from between her fingers at him. Horacio’s eyes sparkled with amusement, mouth pulled tight with the effort it took to restrain his laugh.

He stood, “You’re right, too low. Let’s try this one.”

Eva resisted him as he led her to an oval shaped table with six chairs. The wood was stained dark enough that she almost couldn’t see the grain. Horacio pulled out a chair and sat in it, easing her around so that she stood between him and the table. With a serious look, he said, “You’ll have to sit.”

“I will not!” she shot back lowly.

He rolled his eyes, “Alright. Lean.”

Reluctantly, Eva let him push her back against the table until her hips canted forward to his satisfaction. Shoulders up near her ears, Eva rested her weight on her hands and glanced sidelong at him to gauge his reaction.

Playful eyes met hers, “Mmhmm. This is a good height.”

Licking suddenly dry lips, Eva could only nod. Horacio’s hands on her hips squeezed gently. When he stood, they were so close that she could feel his breath.

“Is this what you want?” she asked, not entirely certain if she was still talking about the table.

“Yes,” he replied easily, “its what I want.”

His mouth pursed, as if he was going to kiss her. And then his eyes cut to the side. Eva followed his gaze to find the shop owner walking towards them with a wide smile. Señor Abila was a man who knew when he’d made a sale.

Eva stepped away again to let Horacio negotiate price and delivery. She wandered around, feeling the fabric of a few sofas and sitting experimentally on a mattress. There was plenty to look at and almost all of it was good quality. This was a place that Eva could see herself returning to time and again—which was probably why Horacio brought her here.

Tucked into a corner, near a large loading door, was a bit of white painted wood that stuck out awkwardly from behind a bed frame. Curious, Eva went over to it and lifted the frame gently to get a better look.

A crib.

The build of it was outdated and the paint was scratched, but the bottom had little rocking feet so that it could tilt back and forth. At the head was a painted rabbit with pink eyes. It was probably built for a baby girl.

Feeling a painful tightness in her chest, Eva set the frame back into place and returned to the men. They were bouncing numbers back and forth in quick succession. Their voices were light and smooth, not a hint of annoyance in their tone. Señor Abila looked as if he were enjoying himself. Horacio, too, if she were being honest.

Eventually, the price was settled and a delivery date of the following weekend was set. Eva thanked Señor Abila for his assistance and he said something to Horacio that made him scoff and roll his eyes.

A short time later, as they pulled out of the parking lot, Eva asked, “How long have you known Señor Abila?”

Horacio pulled onto the street, “Since I was very young. My mother buys all her furniture from him.”

Eva nodded, “Its nice that she has a good relationship with him.”

Laughing, Horacio shook his head, “They do not have a good relationship. If anything, Señor Abila tries to avoid having her come in.”

She was confused, and said so.

“My mother,” Horacio explained, “is not an easy customer. She likes to have things the way she wants.” He paused, smiling to himself, “And, not just when it comes to furniture.”

A woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to fight for it. Eva smiled, “I think I’d like her.”

He pulled to a stop light and looked at her, “I hope you will.”

In all the chaos of the last few weeks, Eva had almost forgotten that she had ‘married’ into an actual family. With real people. Who she would have to meet. And spend time with. And talk to. It was suddenly a very real, and very daunting, task. She glanced at Horacio, hoping he would be patient with her.

The truck took a turn onto a side street and Horacio guided it into a parking lot. Eva got out and rounded the vehicle while she looked at yet another nondescript building. Horacio took her hand, “The entrance is over here.”

He led her to a door that blended in with the stonework. Inside, the hostess greeted him and gestured towards a large archway. Through it was a small, but busy restaurant. Circular tables covered with white table cloths dotted the room. Metal work chandeliers hung from the ceiling, giving the whole room a soft, warm glow.

They were seated off to the side and handed menus. Eva opened hers and took a fortifying breath while she began to translate in her head. The words were, at the same time, both familiar and foreign. She knew what most of the dishes were, but something in her brain kept her from knowing what she might find appetizing.

Resigned, she closed the menu, “How about you pick something out for me?”

Horacio looked at her from over the edge of his menu, “What are you in the mood for?”

She gave a deliberately careless shrug, “Surprise me.”

Though he looked at her a beat or two longer, Horacio didn’t comment on her request. His eyes scanned the menu in his hands for a while before he set it aside. The waitress came and took their drink order, returning with two tumblers of dark liquor.

Eva picked her up and sniffed it. Bourbon. Possibly whiskey. She sipped and struggled to swallow as it burned in her throat. “Wow,” she croaked.

Horacio chuckled, “It takes some getting used to.”

“Uh huh,” was her rasping response, “Do they use that to strip paint?”

He pretended to think about it, “I think they do.”

“It would certainly do the job.”

Setting the glass down, Eva took a deep breath and let it out slowly to regain her bearings, “Is this a place you come to a lot?”

“Yes,” he answered, folding his arms on the table and leaning towards her, “Its one of my favorites.”

Eva made sure to file that tidbit of information away for the future, “Oh?”

He bobbed his head a little, “It opened while I was training and its not far from the office. We do retirement parties here, sometimes.”

She tried to imagine what a retirement party looked like for his unit and, for some reason, there were definitely sparklers on a cake.

“Well, the booze is definitely memorable,” Eva picked up her glass in a kind of mock salute.

The waitress returned and inquired about food. Horacio asked a question or two before telling her what they wanted in soft, rolling sentences that made Eva want to reach over and brush her fingers against his throat.

When they were left alone again, Eva shook away the thought and asked, “How is it? Transitioning back to work after being away so long?”

If she understood it right, Horacio had been in the States for at least eight months, maybe more. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it was to go from living full time away from his home to stepping right back into his old life.

Horacio took some time to think about the question, “I thought it would be more...more. What I was doing in America was so...different. I didn’t have any men to make sure stayed in line and the paperwork was…” His head cocked to the side, “I don’t think there was any paperwork.”

“Are you happy to be back?”

He smiled, “Yes. I missed home.”

Eva felt her lips pull into a small smile of her own, “I’m glad you’re happy.”

His hand reached out and took one of hers, “Once you settle in, I think you’ll be happy, too.”

She was already happy.

Eva didn’t have the words to describe how happy she was. Everything that had plagued her life for the last seven years was gone, left behind. She had a new identity, a new home, a new person to spend her time with. For the first time, Eva had the opportunity to build something that was completely hers.

Their food arrived, sizzling on the plates. Horacio had a mix of meat and vegetables with tortillas and Eva had rice and vegetables served with a half moon of fried dough. She cut into it, letting out steam that was filled with aromatic spices.

God, but it was good.

Eva dug in. Every bite was perfectly cooked, perfectly seasoned. She didn’t care that her tongue burned a little with the spice or that she was eating more in one sitting than she normally would in an entire day. She ate happily and talked with Horacio between bites.

Somewhere along the way, a thought occurred to her, “We’re doing it backwards.”

His brows raised in question.

Eva almost laughed. It was so ludicrous that, if she weren’t sitting right there as living proof, she would have argued against it.

“Us,” she explained, “We’re doing it backwards.”

“I don’t understand,” he said slowly.

She set down her fork, “Usually you go on a date—several dates—before you get married. Right?”

It took him a long moment to compute, “I—yes?”

Eva turned her shoulders coyly, “So, we’re doing it backwards. We got married and then went on a date.”

His confusion turned into a kind of wry amusement, “I think you’re right.” Then, “I don’t mind.”

She smiled, “Neither do I.”

#Shadow and Veil #Narcos #Horacio Carrillo #Carrillo #Au #Maurice Compte #A/B/O dynamics

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stickyjjaem · 2 years ago

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dirty little secret - just to waste my time with you | bang chan

pairing: bang chan x reader, ??? x reader genre: uni!au, predebut/idol!au, manager!reader, slow burn chapter warnings: kinda disjointed, besties felix and jisung word count: 900ish

author notes: something something the rushing through each part is a narrative device something i didn't want to write each section into its own chapter. i pROMISE shit goes way down really soon so please keep reading~

taglist: @idunnomanmynamewastaken @freyaniobe @jellyglly (send me an ask if you would like to be added!)

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

The next few days give you whiplash, as you follow Minhye and the boys from schedule to schedule: filming to photoshoot, photoshoot to interview, interview to dance practice. You gain a lot of respect for people working in this industry, just trailing in it is making your head spin. You learn a lot about the boys as well, especially Jisung. Good lord, that man never stops talking. You have to ask him to slow down so you can actually understand what he’s trying to say to you, but it’s not the worst situation to be in. Felix has been helping with translations and explaining what’s going on, which has been helpful to say the least. You can see yourself becoming friends with these guys once you get Korean figured out.

Chris, Bang Chan, whatever you’re meant to call him, he’s not relenting. You hear him constantly making remarks under his breath whenever you talk to one of the members, and on a few occasions he’s just said them to your face in front of everyone. Even the boys are starting to wonder what’s happening, but don’t want to ask him too close to the comeback. It could just be comeback stress after all.

Your first few weeks at JYP breeze by, and before you know it, you’re being placed single-handedly in charge of Stray Kids, right before they’re set to make their comeback. You’ve slowly been picking up more responsibilities anyway but being made manager 2 weeks out from release date means triple the work. The kids, as you’ve taken to calling them despite being the same age as them, have been good, helping out where they can, understanding when mistakes inevitably happen, and generally being decent people. The same can’t be said for Bang Chan though. He refuses to even give you the time of day, and heaven forbid you slip up somewhere.

If there’s anything you’ve learned about the ‘new and improved’ Bang Chan, it’s that he will take any opportunity to make doing your job as hard as possible. Once, he shouted at you across the dance room for something playing on your phone while the boys were practicing. Except, they were taking a break and you were showing Hyunjin a new dance video you found that you thought he would enjoy, especially during a particularly hard practice. You left the dance room pretty quickly after that, choosing to hunker down in your office with a hot cup of herbal tea and some paperwork that needed to be sent to Mnet later that week.

Maybe Bang Chan was right, if this keeps happening you weren’t going to last long at all. You’d be lying if you said his words weren’t starting to wear you down. Everyone around you had started to notice as well; you were more sluggish in the office, finding any excuse to get out (even for just five minutes). The last time you’d seen the boys was three days ago, when Minhye asked for an update on their progress. You can’t even remember the last time you’d spoken to your parents or your friends back home because your life had become a cycle of sleep and work. The prospect of working in Korea was once exciting, but now you’re reconsidering your options. Had you wasted your time taking this job?

Comeback season’s hell. Not even figuratively, it is literally hell. You’re barely managing a few hours sleep a night in between co-ordinating and bouncing between music shows, interviews, photoshoots, radio shows and too many rehearsals with Stray Kids. In between all of that, your main job was to make sure content was being made for the YouTube channel and that the boys were getting on V-live every once in a while. The kids were, for the most part, more than happy to oblige your requests, especially at the premise that it was for Stay as much as it was for you.

“Bang Chan-ssi, say something for Stay!” You tried to sound cheerful behind the camera, knowing that there’s a small chance that your voice might be heard in the finished video.

“I’ll do my own video later, Y/N. I don’t need you telling me what to do.” He looks unimpressed, disappointed that you even had the audacity to be in the same space as him at the same time. This is usually how it went between you two. However, you really didn’t have it in you to deal with his bullshit today, these videos needed to be sent to the editing team tonight so something could be published at the end of the week.

“Don’t waste my time, Bang Chan. It’s for the YouTube channel. Just do it, please? I swear, I’ll be out of your hair for the rest of the week.” You looked visibly stressed, and everyone saw it. Maybe that’s why he silently agreed and got on with it. Maybe that’s why he watched as you run your hand through your hair as you reviewed the footage before getting up and heading over to another area of the green room.

“I really don’t know why you’re being so rude to her, hyung. She’s really chill, like she’s actually looking after us. Better than the last manager we had at least. Give her a chance, she’s trying her best.” Chan wished Jisung was a little quieter sometimes, especially when your ears visibly twitch at the compliment.

#chris bang #skz #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #skz fluff #skz angst #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #dirty little secret

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strawberrynamjoon · 4 years ago

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farmer boy, i love you

– Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

– Genre: farming!au, lowkey e2l, smut, humor & tons of nagging

– Word count: 35k

– Summary: Needing change in your life you decided it would be a brilliant idea to move to your uncle’s small farm, helping him and your cousin Jimin with the daily work. What you didn’t plan was to fall in love with your beautiful yet very annoying neighbour Taehyung, who seemed to make it his personal mission to tease you every chance he got. And what you expected even less was that he seemed to like you too.

– Warnings: includes smut, alcohol and mentions death of a father

– A/N: this is a rewritten edition of a fic i already posted before when i was still writing for got7 but i loved it too much to let it go <3

– Disclaimer: This is not proofread because I was too lazy, so you might find a few mistakes!

Walking the long but yet very pretty way towards the small village that, from today on, was supposed to be your new home you felt a bit indifferent. While you were convinced that it was time for you to start a new chapter of your life you still couldn’t help but feel anxious about taking such a big step.

Moving to the farm that belonged to your uncle seemed like such a great idea when he first offered the plan he had to you – the place held such special memories and as a child you always wanted nothing more than to live there, working on the farm, supporting your uncle and his son, your super annoying yet lovely cousin Jimin.

Now that the idea wasn’t an idea anymore but your reality you were scared and not so sure anymore that this was the right step, yet your second thoughts didn’t matter anymore, it was already too late for you.

The big city you grew up had nothing to offer you anymore – so now, you wanted, or better said needed a cut in your life.

There was nothing you used to love more than sneaking out with your cousin at night, secretly meeting up with your friends, going for a swim in the small lake right next to your house. You wouldn't trade those memories for nothing, cherishing each and every one of them. So, you concluded that this town was the best option you had.

It had been such a long time since you visited, you actually felt a bit nostalgic when you arrived in the center of the town. The residents liked to call the marketplace at the beginning of the town „the heart“ of the city.

Ever since your last visit many years ago nothing seemed different. Basically, it was a round and rather big circle, surrounded by a small café that has been there all your life, right next to it the library that was owned by the Jeon family, the parents of Jimin's closest friend, Jungkook. You couldn't help but smile as you remembered how you used to hide in the library, reading the same few books over and over again.

Opposite of the library was the old restaurant – every single rather important event was celebrated in that specific restaurant, no matter if it were birthdays, anniversaries, New Year's Eve or whatever other occasion there was.

It was so popular not only because of the delicious food they offered but also because it was literally the only restaurant around. Your uncle and your neighbors, the Kims, were providing them with the food they needed, so you usually always got food for free which lead to you and Jimin spending a lot of time at the restaurant, no matter how often your uncle insisted he could cook dinner for you – in hindsight you felt kind of bad for him because the two of you constantly turned down his meals.

And last, but certainly not least, there was the little pub that you never actually were allowed to spend time in since you used to be too young. The Mins, the owners of the place, were very strict about that. None of you and your friends were ever allowed to be inside the pub as long as you were minors – even their son Yoongi rarely ever saw it from the inside, probably because the adults didn’t want the children around after work was done.

As you stood in the middle of the marketplace you couldn't help but smile as the last sunrays of this warm late summer day were falling right onto the pub, making it look a bit more beautiful than it actually was. The paint on the outside was splintered and the sign that simply said ‘The Mins’ Pub’ was slowly falling apart – somehow all of this gave it a certain charm though.

The vibe of the village always made you feel comfortable. There were about 150 people living here if you had to guess and the next supermarket was a twenty-five minute drive away but the people seemed so happy, not worrying about a lot of things.

You decided that a short stop in the pub before you’d go home to your uncle’s house wouldn’t hurt anyone. After all, you were way too curious to finally see the magical place from inside.

As you carefully entered the door you felt cheerful – it looked exactly like you always imagined it to be. Most of the furniture was made out of old wood, the bar was long and it was the first thing one would notice as they came in since it was on the opposite wall of the entrance.

Your smile was wide when you spotted the one man you hoped to find standing behind the bar. Of course, Yoongi was the bartender by now, it was always his plan to work here, to him it seemed to be the coolest thing ever to be a bartender, especially in his own bar – and turns out, he was right, he looked extremely cool behind the bar, washing glasses while chatting with villagers.

For a second you studied him, he looked dangerously handsome. Certainly a lot taller than the last time you had interacted with him and his face seemed more mature, a defined jawline but the same round cheeks, his hair long and falling in his face, making him look almost evil for a seocnd. If it wasn’t for gummy smile you would have had to look twice to be sure it was the same Min Yoongi you spent so much time with as a child.

The expression on his face as he recognized you, the young lady from out of town, was priceless – his whole relaxed and cool facade vanished immediately as he stared at you with his eyes wide open, a questioning glance as he saw you. He was caught off guard, his slightly opened mouth giving him away.

“Just the man I hoped to find. Yoongi, you look good,” you playfully flirted as you walked towards the bar, “I’d like to have one beer please.”

Within seconds he was walking away from his place behind the bar to come and embrace you in a tight hug before mustering you, shortly studying your face to make sure you were really the person he thought you were.

“(Y/N), live and in color? I thought you forgot about us,” he joked, the surprise of you in his bar very pleasant to him.

A joyful laugh came out of your mouth as he walked back behind the bar, opening both, you and himself, a beer.

“You could’ve called, you know? No need to surprise me like this. My old heart can’t take those kinds of surprises anymore,” he sounded lighthearted, just like you remembered him.

Immediately you felt ten times lighter, clicking with people you haven’t seen in a long time was one of the purest and most magical feelings in existence and you were more than relieved to see that you and Yoongi were equally as excited to be reunited after such a long time. Not getting along with your old friends, especially him, was one of the many fears you had about moving here.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t assume Jimin actually kept quiet about me coming back,” you admitted.

“How long has it been since we saw each other?” he asked as he was leaning against the bar, his whole attention on his former best friend, still having an obviously hard time to believe that you were actually sitting in front of him right then and there.

Before you could give him an answer someone else started to answer for you from behind you and you immediately recognized his orotund voice, “Six long years,” your cousin said while he and another familiar face walked up to you.

Jimin pulled you into an even deeper hug than Yoongi did and you felt home within seconds. Jungkook was right beside him, of course, where else would he be than next to Jimin? The two of them still were inseparable and it was almost heartwarming to see how little has changed.

“How did you manage to not say anything?” Jungkook scoffed in shock before looking at you, “It’s good to see you again, (y/n). I can’t believe Jimin didn’t tell us.”

You were almost amazed to see how much he grew, his chin could easily rest on your head by now, something that you would’ve never thought could happen. Jungkook has always been the youngest and smallest kid back then and now he was the tallest in the room.

“I wasn’t sure if she’d actually come. Didn’t want to get your hopes up, Jungkook,” he teased his friend, still nagging about the crush he had on you when you were literally five years old.

Jungkook rolled his eyes at his comment before bringing his attention back to you and Yoongi, sitting down on the stool beside yours.

“So, how long are you going to stay?” Yoongi asked.

For the first time, you actually had to say the truth out loud, making it feel much more real.

“I’m not planning to leave again,” you sounded more confident than you expected, the nice encounter with your old friends almost making you feel like all of your previous worries were groundless.

There was a moment of silence, both of them not knowing what to say – it almost seemed like you broke them.

“You know, I never saw you speechless until now,” Jimin chuckled amused.

“You mean –”, Jungkook started to form a sentence but dropped it, not knowing how to continue.

“You’re moving here?” Yoongi asked, wrinkles on his forehead as his brows narrowed in confusion.

As you slowly nodded his concentrated expression vanished and changed into a grin. “You’re actually moving here,” he repeated breathlessly, more to himself than to you, slowly nodding to himself as if he had to progress the new information.

“Welcome home then, (y/n). I think this is a reason to celebrate,” he smiled while pouring shots into a few glasses in front of him.

Time went by fast and you had fun learning about what happened in the last six years. It didn’t sound like a lot has changed though, they were still as close and as fun to be around as you rememberd.

Every time you looked at them it hit you how fast time flew by, it felt like a just few months ago all of you were playing hide and seek in the middle of the night while your parents had no idea you sneaked out.

A few hours and way too many shots later, you and Jimin walked home, the night sky was breathtakingly clear and full of stars – a sight you simply would never see in your hometown, all the city lights drowing them out. You forgot how special it felt to walk under millions of stars.

No matter how much fun you had in the bar, walking home with Jimin was your favorite part of today, you definitely missed him the most.

He told you a bit about how Hoseok and Namjoon were thinking about taking over the old restaurant because the owners are getting too old to manage everything and about Jungkook and Seokjin being into the same girl, without knowing that Namjoon was already dating her in secret – it was nice that he filled you in with everything you missed, so you could start right where you left.

As you arrived at home your uncle was sitting in the rocking chair on the porch in front of the old farmhouse.

“Uncle Minwoo,“ you almost shouted out as you saw him, jogging over to where he was sitting. Minwoo always was your favorite uncle and you were his favorite niece, much to the dislike of your siblings.

“(Y/n),” he laughed as you hugged him, “you smell like you had a good time in the pub.”

“We actually have a small surprise for you,” Jimin seemed excited as he told you to follow him.

He lead you to the old little cottage that has been on the farm for as long as you were able to think – back in the days it was mainly used for storing tools and electronics that shouldn’t be exposed to the rain. Confusion coming over you, your uncle handed you a key and you opened the small cottage. Stepping inside, you couldn’t believe your eyes.

“Welcome home,“ your uncle chuckled as you observed the room in front of you. A small kitchen, a couch and a TV in the living room, a bed on the other side of the room. They painted the walls white and decorated a bit – it might have been something small but enough to touch you deeply.

You were sure you could stay here forever, it was cute and welcoming, like a real home. Not a thousand words could describe how much you appreciated them for putting in so much effort, just to make you feel comfortable.

As you thanked both, Jimin and your uncle, the three of you talked for a bit longer, the excitement taking over before your uncle advised you that it would be better to catch some sleep – work wouldn’t wait for you and you had to be thankful for any second of sleep you could get.

Waking up the next morning, you immediately regretted the alcohol you had the night before. Your phone said it was currently six in the morning and while being woken up by the sound of chicken and cows was way more relaxing than your usual alarm clock you still would have preferred to just sleep in.

Walking outside a few minutes later you inspected the farm – it was a giant property with two big houses on it. Half of the farm belonged to your uncle, he took care of the animals and artisan goods, the other half belonged to the Kims, in charge of the crop harvest

Starting the day with feeding the chickens and collecting eggs was one of the easier tasks you had to face today since it almost didn’t require any kind of skill. While you were picking up another egg you flinced as you heard someone scream at you from behind.

“Hey! Put the eggs back! Who in the world steals eggs these days?” the deep voice belonged to a man but before you could turn around to find out who was screaming at you, he held your wrists behind your back, not giving you any space to move.

Your attempt to free yourself was almost embarrassing, it was clear that you had no chance against whoever decided to disturb you.

Turning your head around to scream at the stranger you muted as soon you met his eyes – the words you wanted to scream wouldn’t come out as you looked into the familiar face of his, your brain working hard as you realized who he was.

His thick eyebrows were furrowed, his dark eyes were piercing you, filled with a mixture of anger and annoyance – he was still staring at you and waiting for an explanation.

“Kim–“ your voice died and you fastly cleared your throat, “Kim Taehyung?”

His annoyed expression changed into a confused one as you called him by his name. You couldn’t believe he was accusing you of stealing eggs.

“Let go of me!” you demanded but Taehyung wasn’t planning to listen to you, not trusting you.

“Who are you?”, he asked harshly, “You’re not from here. How do you know my name?”

The grip on your wrists became tighter and actually started to hurt a bit.

“I’m (Y/N). Minwoo’s niece,” you replied just as harsh as he asked you, “Didn’t Mrs. Kim teach you any manners?”

He let you go and you immediately grabbed your own wrist just so he couldn’t grab them again. A small pout formed on your lip as you looked at them, trying not to let him see that it actually hurt.

“What are you doing here?” he asked you, voice cold.

Now you were facing him and you had to stop for a second to take in his beauty. As he was holding you, you didn’t really manage to study his face since you were too busy trying to free yourself but now you started realizing how handsome he became.

It's not like he was ugly before, you and him just never clicked and that’s why you never gave his face any kind of attention.

Taehyung wasn’t a bad guy, you knew that because Yoongi repeatedly assured you that he was actually a very loving person once you get to know him.

Personally, you just never really got the chance to, since he definitely wasn’t interested in anything that had to do with you. Not in a mean way though, he just didn’t seem to care about the girls in town, especially not the one who always came over the summer break and then left again.

Glowering at you, he was waiting for an answer. You, on the other hand, didn’t dare to look him into his eyes, instead your eyes were studying the rest of his face. His features were sharper and manlier now, his brows thick but he still had the same wrinkles around his eyes.

For a second you wanted to look at his lips but you stopped yourself, not wanting him to get wrong ideas.

“What are you doing here?” you asked in retund instead of giving an answer, “Didn’t you always say you wanted to leave this place?”

He rolled his eyes as you avoided his question.

“I asked first,“ he insisted, making it hard for you not to chuckle at the very immature conversation you were having.

“I am working here. Don’t you have some vegetables to take care of?” you asked coldly asked before turning your back to him.

“You better get used to my face, if you scare me like this one more time I might have a heart attack,” you added as your attention was back to feeding the chickens.

But instead of leaving Taehyun was walking to stand right beside you, “You’re working here? Why would you do that?” he asked. It never was a secret that he wanted to leave this town, he used to talk about it a lot back then already and, even though he still was here, apparently, he still wanted to leave.

“I’m supporting my family,” you shrugged, not looking at him. You really didn’t want to be cold to him but you were tired and you knew how Taehyung was, he didn’t mean to be rude, he had a soft nature, everyone could see that once they got to see his warm smile but sometimes he was a bit rough.

You could see him shake his head in confusion as you were continuing with your work, “Okay, you go milk those cows and churn that butter if this is what fulfills you, (y/n). I’ll go back to work,“ he pointed at the field of tomatoes on the other side of the farm your families shared and left you alone again.

Walking over to the cows, you couldn't help but wonder why he still was here. He was a very clever guy, he could easily go and leave this town to study and open a business or whatever it was he wanted to do. Glancing over to him one more time, you tried to divert your attention to milking the cows.

The field of tomatoes he was currently working on was not too far away but luckily still far enough to give you a bit of privacy. He seemed to be very invested in picking the best tomatoes he could find, a concentrated glance on his face. And you really should try to concentrate too, since you haven’t milked a cow in years.

And you failed miserably. To your desperation, no one was around when you went looking for Jimin or your uncle to help you. Trotting back to the cows you sat down on a small stool in front of one them, giving it another try.

You groaned at the cow, laying your head back and closing your eyes in frustration. It was only your first day and you knew practice makes perfect but you wanted to cry.

“Just give me your stupid milk, please,” you mumbled while taking a deep breath, your eyes still closed.

“Are you sure this is the right job for you? If you can’t even milk Bertha maybe you should reconsider,“ Taehyung’s voice startled you, making you jump a bit. The grin on his face clearly was teasing, full of satisfaction because you were struggling, “Do you need help?”

“Please,“ you didn’t care about the triumphing grin on his face, you were more than willing to take his offer. Any kind of help was good. And in the end, you didn’t dislike Kim Taehyung, you just weren’t close to him.

He nodded before telling you to wait for a second as he walked towards the little shed. Coming out again he held a strange looking machine in his hand while attaching it to the cow’s udder.

“We haven't milked them by hand for years,” he explained to you as he took your wrist once again, this time more careful though, and slightly pulled you towards the cow’s udder, right next to him.

“Watch closely, I’ll show you once and if you can’t follow, you’re on your own,” his words sounded harsh but you didn’t take them that way. The fact that Yoongi was his best friend was something you two had in common and if he wanted you to give Taehyung a chance you would do that. For Yoongi, but also for yourself.

After all, Taehyung was your neighbor and, in addition, he was a handsome man, you wouldn’t mind being able to look at his face whenever you wanted at all.

You saw the way he acts around the guys and you saw that he indeed had a very soft heart, maybe he just had a hard time showing it.

“Hey! Are you even watching?” he asked annoyed while glancing at you, “I know how to do this, I am not the one that has to learn. I’m being nice here, don’t waste my time.”

You chuckled a bit at him losing his temper so easily. “Yes, Taehyung, I’m watching," you said grinning, “Wasting your time was not a task on my list today.”

After he rolled his eyes at you you could swear you saw a small smile on his face while he started to milk the cow, explaining to you what he was doing step by step.

You tried to concentrate on how exactly he does it, what movements his hands made and so on but you kept on finding yourself thinking about how good his hands looked – what in the world was wrong with you? It's not like you've never seen an attractive man before so you had no clue why your hormones were playing a game with you.

After you started to try milking the cows yourself you felt more than relieved that you actually managed to do it right. Letting out a small ‘thank god’ under your breath you realized that Taehyung still stood right beside you, watching your every move.

“You know, you can go back to the toma–” you started to say before he interrupted you in the same moment.

“Just a tip for you,“ he said, not sounding cold for the first time, “Don’t dress up for farm work. You’ll ruin your clothes. You can still wear cute outfits after you’re finished here. But while working just wear something old,“ he said as he was just about to turn around before you had to take the chance to annoy him one last time for now.

“You think my outfit is cute?” the grin on your face was wide and you were way too amused.

As a response his eyes squinted together in regret, knowing that you’ll probably never stop teasing him about it.

“Please don't,“ was all he could whisper frustrated under his breath.

“What a softie you are,“ you playfully poked his upper arm, “Didn’t know you had that in you.”

He let out yet another sigh, sounding almost whiny but the smile on the corner of his mouth came out nonetheless, “Are you always this awful?“

“Dear diary,“ you said in a nagging tone, “Today Kim Taehyung complimented my–”

Before you could end your sentence he was covering your mouth, shaking his head in disbelief slowly, “I’ll go back to work, (y/n). Don’t forget to churn the butter. The wooden pitcher we use for it is in the shed,“ and with that, he walked back to his side of the farm again.

Just a second before he arrived he glanced over to you again, screaming so that you would hear him, “I didn’t compliment you okay? Don't let it get to your head.“

Waving at him from the shed, you nodded your head. “Sure. Talk to you later! Your outfit looks cute too by the way”, you screamed back.

Maybe working next to Taehyung wasn’t so bad after all, if he was always such an easy target to provocate you'd at least have your fun.

When Jimin came into the shed with the tools to take over a few hours later, you were busy churning the butter, cursing under your breath.

Sweat was dripping all over your forehead and it was seriously tiring, every single muscle of your arm hurt, including some muscles you didn’t even know you had. You weren’t sure if you could manage to do that on a daily base. At least you wouldn’t have to worry about a gym membership anymore.

Your cousin stared at you confused, a sly grin in the corner of his mouth, “What exactly are you doing?“

“I’m churning the goddamn butter. Why is it so hard?” you complained while looking up to him. He was holding two beers in his hands, handing one over to you before starting to laugh at your action.

“Why would you use that old thing for that? We have a machine that churns it for us,“ he laughed, “I don’t know why we even still have that old thing.”

“Fucking Kim Taehyung,“ you cursed under your breath, leaving Jimin even more confused.

“You met him?” he asked while sitting down in the hay beside you.

“I did," you hissed, “He was the one who told me to do it this way.”

Jimin’s smile grew wide as he tried to contain his laughter, “I didn’t know he could be so evil.”

He almost sounded satisfied that you were getting fooled by him, “He likes you if he teases you.”

“Well, that’s not a very nice way of showing it,“ you took a big sip of the beer, knowing that you probably deserved it for all the teasing earlier, before continuing, “You didn’t tell me he became so handsome though.”

Jimin’s eyes widened immediately as you confessed and you could tell he was trying not to spit out his drink out of shock. He fastly swallowed, “You have a crush on our Tae?”

You shook your head scoffing, lightly kicking his leg, “A crush? How old are we? I just think he’s very attractive. But he was pretty rude though.”

Jimin pressed his lips together in a thin line, looking into the sky, „His father died two years ago. He had a hard time. But he opens up sooner or later, just be patient with him – I promise, he is one of the most kind and caring people in this town.“

You gulped at the news, “What a sad loss, Mr. Kim was such a ray of sunshine, always ready to help if help was needed.”

Jimin nodded, “He was. Olli was only six years old when his father died. But dad took a lot of care of them since then.”

There was a short silence. You still remembered little Olli, Taehyung’s younger brother. The last time you saw him he was barely two years old.

“I can’t believe he’s your type though. I thought I really wanted to set you up with Jungkook,“ Jimin broke the silence before you could think about it any longer, almost offended.

You laughed at him. He was close to Taehyung, you knew that, but he always wanted you to date Jungkook, only for the purpose of having him as an official family member.

“That won’t happen,”, you broke it to him, much to his disappointment.

A deep sigh came from him, “Well if you want Taehyung so bad, come to the pub with us. I bet he’ll be there too tonight. We are meeting at eight. What do you say?”

“I don’t want him, I simply said that he is good looking,” you desperately hoped he wouldn’t tease you all the time about this from now on, already starting to slowly regret that you even brought it up in the first place. And as much as you would like to go out to the pub with the others you had a date with your bathtub that you wouldn’t want to miss for anything else tonight.

“I’ll pass though. I’ll come next time,“ you promised, standing up and walking towards your door.

“I can’t wait to tell Yoongi that you and Taehyung are going to become a couple. How exciting!” he yelled after you in his typical teasing voice, making you laugh out in frustration. Sharing your opinion on Taehyung’s look with your cousin probably wasn't the best idea.

It fastly got dark outside and you were lighting the candles in your bathroom, the bathtub slowly filling up with hot water.

Exactly what your muscles needed after churning the butter all afternoon. Putting a bit of milk in the bathtub, you wondered if you had some honey in the farmhouse by any chance. As you wrapped the first towel you could find around your body, you wanted to hush over to your uncle’s house to check. But what stopped you from your plans was a shadow you saw walking past your window, making you freeze until someone rang your door.

Opening it, no one else than Taehyung was standing in front of it, his work clothes traded into sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, a basket in his hand and his eyes fixed on your exposed legs.

The towel you were wearing luckily covered all of your breast and bottom but that was about it. And, as if it couldn't get worse, it also had a lot of fairies on it – it used to be your favorite towel when you were about five years old. Still, you didn’t need Taehyung to see you wearing it.

“Taehyung?“ you asked him, unsure why he was visiting but he was still looking at the exposed parts of your body, not doing a good job at hiding the fact that he got distracted by your legs. You barely noticed though because your thoughts wandered to this morning. “How dare you not telling me that we have a machine for the butter? Are you crazy?”

“My arms hurt so much,“ you added in a complaining tone, too tired to fight him so you decided to whine instead.

Coming back to reality, he laughed at you, his eyes now looking at your face, “You seriously did it all by yourself?” – he was lucky the wrinkles around his eyes were so cute whenever he laughed, otherwise you would have killed him right there, “You must be pretty strong then.”

“What do you want?” you asked him annoyed before you saw his eyes wandering down to your legs once again.

Not missing out on the opportunity to nag him, you chuckled, “Do you like my outfit?” as you struck a small pose, you had to be careful not to expose any parts he shouldn’t see.

Rolling his eyes he handed over the basket, “Seriously, you’re so annoying.”

You grinned, thinking it’s quite funny how easy it was to annoy him, “But you still think I’m cute, so it doesn’t matter.”

There definitely was a smile hidden on his lips that he tried to hide at all cost, but you could see it reaching his eyes, “This is for you. My mum put your favorites in it. Tomatoes, cherries, peaches, blueberries. She asked me to bring it to you,“ the man said, trying to sound as uninterested and unbothered as possible.

“That–“ you started to gather your words, feeling very touched about the little gift but a bit confused as to why Taehyung brought it to you, “That’s so nice of her. I’ll come over tomorrow and thank her.”

He immediately focused on you again, “No, it's fine. I’ll tell her. She’s kind of sick at the moment, she needs to rest, Olli is not even letting me go near her because he doesn’t want anyone else to get sick, so I doubt he would let you come over.”

You mustered him suspiciously but decided to leave him be, you surely teased him enough for today and didn’t want him to actually dislike you.

“Alright, Tae. Thank you,“ you gave him a soft smile as you were about to close the door.

“Wait,” he stopped you before you closed the door and you waited for him to say something, “Are you planning to go to the pub later?“ – if you didn’t expect him to ask one thing than it was this one. Why did he care suddenly?

“I don’t think so. Churning that butter has really worn me out, you know?” you said, laughing lightly, “And my bathtub is already waiting for me.”

“Oh alright. That’s cool. See you soon, I guess,“ he said before awkwardly giving you a small smile and leaving again. What a strange yet interesting guy he was.

Something about him made you look forward to your future on the farm. But before you could let it get to your head, you were interrupted by a text from no one else than Yoongi.

[Yoongi, 22:29]

Glad to hear you're getting yourself a man! Taehyung and (y/n), how sweet.

You let out a small laugh before finally meeting your only date for tonight: Your bathtub. Though you had to admit that the handsome face from next door was coming to your mind every now and then.

After a week you slowly got used to the daily work on the farm, your body was finally starting to react differently, your arms weren’t getting as sore anymore and waking up early was bothering you less and less.

It was a sunny Saturday which meant you had to gather all of the goods your uncle wanted to sell on the market the next morning. Picking out the best eggs, milk, wool and cheese was pretty boring, especially since Jimin left early because he was going on a date tonight with some random girl you never heard about before. But since you wanted him to be happy, and also because his teasing about Taehyung was slowly but surely making you go insane, you told him it would be okay if he let you work alone today.

It took you about an hour until you were finally done with carrying all of the boxes into your uncle’s car as you saw Mrs. Kim, Taehyung’s mother, and decided to help her quickly carrying her own boxes filled with pretty fruits and vegetables.

His mother was a beautiful and lovely lady, always has been. Her black hair was long and even though there were a few grey strands in it by now she still looked as young as ever.

“Mrs. Kim, let me help you,“ you shouted while jogging over to her, “Where’s Taehyung? Letting his mother carry all the heavy boxes of fruits and vegetables alone is not a nice thing to do,” you disapproved, one box already in your hands.

She let out a laugh and you were reminded of how warm her laughter was, it sounded like the giggle of a small child.

“It’s fine, I told him to rest for today. He always works so much,” she let out a worried sigh, “I’m very thankful, I know helping me on the farm was not what he wanted to do with his life but he does it for me.”

You never really thought about it that way before – that might explain why he was still here despite always hating the small village he was born and grew up in, it was probably hard for him to leave his family behind after losing his father.

While carrying a box full of blueberries you ate a handful, not able to hold back. The Kim’s blueberries have always been your favorites, none of the ones back at home could compare to the juicy fruits you'd get here.

“You still love blueberries, I see,” She hummed joyfully as she was carrying the last box to the car.

“I am obsessed with them,” you answered, “Oh how rude of me – I still wanted to thank you for the little basket full of fruits you send to me. I was in heaven, your peaches were even better than I remembered.”

Mrs. Kim looked at you in confusion for a second before getting a grip of the situation, the confusion vanishing while a different kind of expression came to her face, unable for you to read at first.

“So he can actually be charming,“ she mumbled to herself with an almost mischievous smirk and within seconds you knew exactly what she was talking about. That little shit.

Scoffing, you wondered why Taehyung wouldn't just admit that the little basket was a present from him, not from his mother – who would do something so sweet without wanting to let the other person know? But then, on the other hand, you didn’t understand Taehyung at all.

“Mum,” you heard his voice yell out while he walking out of the door to their house.

When he saw you he froze for a second, “Oh, hey, (y/n),“ he said with a slight and not really convincing smile, it almost seemed forced.

You nodded towards him, ready to go back to work and leave them alone, as his little brother came running outside, chasing after Taehyung.

“Tete,” he let out a scream as he tried to jump on his back. He was surprisingly tall for an eight-year-old, almost managing to get to Taehyung’s shoulders if he jumped high enough, “Can I come with you? Please?”

Before he could answer, Olli’s attention shifted somewhere else. Or better said, onto someone else. To be precise, you caught his attention, the girl standing in front of his mother and brother, a stranger he’s never seen before.

“Who are you?” he asked curiously, studying you exactly, “Are you Minwoo’s niece?”

You kneeled down to be at an eye to eye level with him, shaking his hand, “Yes, that’s me. I’m (y/n). It's nice to meet you.”

He had a big grin on his face, “Hi, I’m Olli,“ after introducing himself to you he turned around to his big brother, “Did you make the basket for her?”

Taehyung shushed him within a second, giving him a warning glance before trying to cover up his story, “Yes, I did it because mum asked me to.”

She let out a sarcastic laugh, making fun of her son, “Sure. It was totally me asking you to do that.”

A heavy sigh fell from Taehyung’s mouth before shaking his head in disbelief, “Where is your cousin? He promised he’d help me picking up our new couch.”

“Oh, I am afraid he forgot. He’s on a date right now,“ you informed him.

Taehyung let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his temple, not believing that Jimin completely forgot about him. Now even more frustrated, he started mumbling, “It’s always the same with this guy.”

“I’ll help you,“ you volunteered determined, not even bothering to ask him first, knowing he’d say no anyway, “I’m done with work for today and I don’t mind coming along.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll go alone,“ he insisted, clearly mad at your cousin before walking over to his car. Not caring you decided to follow him, hoping that he’d be nice to Jimin if you helped him instead, even though you had little hope.

“Stop being so stubborn,“ you said to him as you opened the door and sat down inside the car, “Just accept my help.”

And much to your surprise, he did accept it, not bothering to start another discussion with you. Maybe he was just too tired of the constant bickering going on between the two of you.

As the two of you drove out of town the sky looked like it was painted in golden colors, the sun slowly setting but the air was still warm, brushing the arm you held out of the open window.

“Where are we even going?” you asked the obviously bothered boy beside you.

“It’s not far away, the dude I’m buying the couch from lives like twenty minutes away,“ he answered, his eyes glued to the street, „You really didn’t have to come. I could’ve easily done it alone.”

Slowly but surely, you were starting to get mad at Taehyung. You couldn’t tell why his constant attitude was getting to you but it did. Of course, he didn't have to like you and honestly, maybe you did go a bit too far with the teasing but after all, you were neighbors, co-workers and also shared the same group of friends. Being nice to each other was the least you could do – especially when you knew that he wasn’t like that at all towards other people. You’ve seen him interact with his little brother and his mother and his friends, he was a warm and loving person, laughing and joking whenever he could. He just wouldn’t open up towards you.

„Dude, you’re the worst. Can you keep quiet for once and accept help? Stop being so rude all the time, being nice every now and then won’t hurt you, you know? You can take your bad mood out on Jimin later.” you snapped at him, not even intended to sound so mean but it just happened – you just wanted him to at least accept you.

He peaked at you, his eyes grew wide in shock at your rant. Even though your voice was still low he clearly heard the frustration in it, “What do you mean? I am being nice all the time. I told you that you shouldn’t wear your good clothes to work in. That was a piece of nice advice I gave you for example.”

You scoffed at him not knowing if he was being serious, “You also attacked me because you thought I was stealing chicken and made me churn butter.”

He chuckled amused as you brought the churning up, “I still can’t believe you did that.”

“My arms still hurt. You’re an asshole,“ you rolled your eyes, not in the mood to put up with Taehyung being, well, himself, when you were just being nice, “If that is your interpretation of being nice I’m beyond sorry for your future girlfriend.”

“Hey, now you’re the one being mean,“ he acted offended and honestly, a bit confused, not knowing why the two of you were fighting. You weren't even mad at him, you just felt fed up, craving at least peace between the two of you.

“Well, maybe you just need a taste of your own medicine,“ you shrugged, calming down a bit as the discussion started to shift to a more playful mood than a serious one.

But before you or Taehyung could fuel the fire and add anything into the it, you let out a small scream as he was turning right with full speed, making you feel like you were about to crash, holding onto the seatbelt for dear life.

“For fucks sake, where did you learn how to drive? Do you not know that you’re supposed to slow down before turning?” you asked him, gasping for air.

“If this is already scaring you, I’ll give you the nice advice to not drive with Yoongi,” he laughed out loud as he parked his car in front of a big house, “Ready to use the strength in your arms built up from churning butter?”

It took you about twenty minutes to carry all the parts of the couch from the third floor to the trailer attached on Taehyung’s car. When you were done it was beginning to get dark outside and the weather was cooling down, making you shiver a bit.

All done, you sat back inside Taehyung’s car as he was securing the trailer so you could drive back home safely – or at least as safe as a ride with him could be.

“If you’re cold there’s a blanket on the backseat, I'll get it for you,“ he yelled from outside before coming getting inside the car, a blanket in his hand, “See how nice I am? So caring, not wanting you to freeze to death.”

You shook your head amused, „What a gentleman you are.”

The drive home was more peaceful, no discussions this time. You looked outside, seeing a big and bright star in the sky, pointing to it excited.

“I can’t get over how beautiful the starry night sky is here. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it,“ you mumbled, almost sounding dreamy, eyes glued to the sky. It wasn’t even completely dark outside yet, but the first stars were already sparkling brightly.

“Isn’t it the same in your hometown?” he asked a bit perplexed as he looked over to you, wondering how you could be so excited about some stupid stars.

“Not at all. The big city lights drown them. You can barely see some, and if you can, they are not as bright as here.”

“I suppose living here isn’t all bad.”, he shrugged after thinking about it for a few seconds, his glance wavering to the sky every few seconds.

You hummed in agreement, “Except for this terrible guy living next to me I quite enjoy my time here.”

He chuckled, enjoying the little game you two were playing, „Must be really hard to live right next to such an attractive young man. I bet you have a hard time.”

Laughing, you were impressed at his wittiness, “Don’t think too highly of yourself.”

Before you could let him answer your favorite song suddenly started playing in the radio, making you turn up the volume instantly, “You need to shut up now. This is my all-time favorite song.”

But of course, Taehyung didn't shut up. Much more like him, he did the opposite, trying to sing along as loud as he could just to ruin the song for you – and he had way too much fun doing it.

“I didn’t know you could sing,“ you said, giving him an approving look.

A smirk formed on his lips, “I'm a man full of surprises.”

The rest of the drive the two of you were singing along to the radio loudly, having genuine fun together for the first time since you arrived. It was nice to see him loosen up a bit, even though it was only a small step.

Driving up to the farm, you already saw Jimin sitting on the porch. He immediately stood up, walking over to the car, already apologizing without you really arriving yet, “I’m so so sorry mate. I completely forgot. I owe you a beer next time we go out.”

Taehyung chuckled as he turned the engine off, “Doesn’t seem like his date had a happy ending, considering he’s home already.”

“Good for me,“ you shrugged, “I’m way too tired to carry the whole couch inside anyway.”

You were the first to get out of the car, making Jimin narrow his eyebrows in confusion.

“What are you doing in Taehyung’s car?” he asked suspiciously.

“I’m doing your fucking job,“ you shot him a mean glance.

As you were walking towards your home you were stopped by Taehyung holding your arm, making you turn around.

“Thank you, I suppose,“ he said, pressing his lips together, obviously feeling awkward, “Just trying to be nice.”

You gave him a genuine smile, “No problem. Sleep well.”

“You too, (y/n).”

Waking up you were almost shocked to see the weather. Yesterday the sun was still shining while today it was pouring like you never saw before. The sky was dark and grey and your whole farm seemed quite sad, making you wish you could just stay in bed all day, just being lazy, reading, eating and maybe fantasizing about a certain someone.

Checking your phone you saw a text from Jimin: it’s going to storm today, you have to make sure all the animals are in the barn and safe, please. i’m getting food for tonight. see you later, favorite cousin.

You immediately threw on a thick cardigan and brushed your teeth, hurrying to get things done before the weather got even worse. Looking in the mirror you scoffed for a second at your sad reflection – your hair was in a very messy bun and your under-eye circles were almost black. But there was no time to pity yourself right now, you could do that after work.

After you fed and, of course, petted the chickens and made sure that all the windows were closed tightly you ran over to the barn where the cows and goats were in. Your clothes were completely drenched even though the way between the barns was very short, the heavy rain was so strong that there was no way you could’ve stayed dry.

Entering the barn your eyebrows narrowed as you saw that the light was on and the food for the cows was already laid out.

“Uncle Minwoo?” you screamed loudly, the rain was so loud that otherwise, no one would hear you.

“Oh thank god, there you are,“ the owner of the voice was coming out of the little shed you kept your tools in, throwing one of the milking machines over to you. You barely had time to catch it because Taehyung was throwing it without caring if you’d catch it or not.

“What are you doing here?” you asked him skeptically as you sat down to the cow next to the one he was currently milking.

He glanced at you with an annoyed expression on his face - but only until he saw how wet you were from the rain. Right then, he bursted out into laughter, “Why are you not wearing a raincoat for fucks sake?” he asked you, enjoying the sight in front of him a little too much.

“I don’t even own one,“ you admitted a bit hesitant while shrugging, knowing he’d make even more fun of you.

And of course, he did.

“How can you not own a raincoat? Seriously, (y/n), you’re something else. Who on earth doesn’t own a raincoat?” he shook his head in disbelief, still laughing.

You simply pressed your lips together, coming back to your actual question, “But why are you here? Certainly not because you wanted to help me.”

“Hey, maybe I’m not as bad as you think and just wanted to be friendly for once?” he said, acting offended, “Since you’re always complaining.”

“Yeah, I doubt that,“ you answered.

Suddenly you heard a loud thunder outside, making you jump - you usually were not afraid of thunder but the sudden loud noise startled you for a second. What really scared you though was the reaction of two of your cows, immediately after they heard the thunder they let out the deepest and loudest sounds you’ve ever heard of them. They sounded terrified.

Taehyung immediately jumped up from his stool and walked over to Bertha, the small brown cow, petting her face.

“Shhhh, it's okay,“ he tried calming her down before looking over to you, “I’m always here when it storms. Bertha and Marnie are deadly afraid of the thunder, so I accompany them. It calms them down.”

For a second you thought he was fooling you but before you could say something another loud thunder was heard followed by loud sounds of the cows once again. God, you weren't sure if you ever could get used to the sounds they made.

“Wait,“ you interrupted confused as you saw Taehyung pet Bertha once again, giving her a small kiss on the side of her face, “You’re serious?”

He looked at you with a grin, “Of course I am. Go, pet Marnie a bit. She loves getting pets right under his chin, she’s such a lovely cow.”

You did as he said but not really trusting him yet.

“I didn’t know he had feelings, Marnie, did you?” you asked the cow sarcastically.

Taehyung chuckled, shaking his head, “I only have feelings Marnie and Bertha.”

Bertha was walking away from him to the hay he just put down for them to lie down for a bit, something you barely ever saw them doing,

“When I first looked into Bertha’s big brown eyes I fell in love,” he stated lovingly, petting some of the other cows while Bertha was still lying down, „Her eyes are just too pure.“

“That’s adorable,” you had to admit, “Didn’t expect that from you.”

“Are you aware that just because I’m telling you you’re stupid because you don’t own a raincoat or work on a farm with a goddamn Gucci shirt doesn't mean I'm an asshole? That’s my way of helping,” he said confidently, “You just seem to not know exactly what to do, so I’m trying to help.”

„You're still being mean while doing it,“ you insisted, not giving in.

“Whatever,“ he walked over to Bertha, who was resting on the ground, lying down next to her, “Just go inside and relax, I’ll take care of the cows.”

“No way,“ you sat down next to him, “I’ll not leave you alone with my cows. I don’t trust you.”

Of course, that was only an excuse to spend some time with the pretty boy from next door but he didn't need to know – his ego was big enough already. Both of you were now starting to relax slowly, leaning against Bertha, petting her every now and then.

“So, farmer girl, how do you like it here?” he asked you after a few seconds of silence, seeming to be actually interested in you for once.

“It’s nice,“ you shrugged as he was peaking over at you, “I like the fact that I finally am allowed to go into the pub the most.”

“I remember when we first were allowed to go in, it was like Harry Potter seeing Hogwarts for the first time,“ he remembered laughing, “and now we’re the ones that get drunk in there while the younger kids are jealous they can’t.”

“Some things never change, right?“ your eyes darted to Taehyung, who had his eyes closed and seemed to be truly relaxed in your presence for the first time since you arrived. He was using his arm as a pillow, a smile on his lips - for once a genuine smile, not the usual teasing one he gave you. The rain was pouring so hard onto the roof of the barn it sounded like applause. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, exhaling a breathy scoff through your nose, not believing that he actually had a soft side.

“What's so funny?“ he asked curiously, still with closed eyes.

“I just love the sound of heavy rain,” you lied, also getting into a comfortable position and closing your eyes.

Your neighbour let out a hum, agreeing with you before yawning, “Me too. It’s cozy.”

Your eyelids started to feel heavy, you didn’t have much sleep last night and your body was shivering a bit because of your wet clothes. Taehyung was snoring lightly beside you within a few minutes and before you knew it you were asleep too. You wouldn’t have expected the barn to be such a comfortable place to sleep in.

The sound of someone calling your name, you couldn't quite identify who it belonged to yet, woke you up. As you were slowly starting to realize where you were, you were just as perplexed as Taehyung, who was still beside you, seeming to just have woken up too, according to his dreamy gaze.

“Did we fall asleep?” he asked you, yawning and stretching his arms from his body.

As you looked up, Jimin was standing in front of both of you, confusion was written all over his face, “What the hell are you two doing in here? How do I keep finding you two together?”

Taehyung shrugged, sitting up as you were doing the same, “What does it look like? We obviously fell asleep.”

“Okay but why were you here together in the first place?” he asked, a smirk on his lips, “Did you make out in front of the cows? They are too young to be exposed to such wild and unholy behavior.”

Chuckling at his remark, you rubbed your eyes a bit, “Don't be noisy, please. I’m having a headache.”

“You two are just too cute,“ he teased a bit before telling you the reason he was looking for you in the first place, “Dinner’s ready. We’re having some meat with different salads and corn. Feel free to join us Tae, your mum and Olli are there too.”

“I don’t know,“ he replied, a little unsure, “I still wanted to meet up with Namjoon and Hoseok later.”

Jimin narrowed his eyebrows, “Why didn’t you ask me to join, you jerk?”

Taehyung laughed at Jimin, standing up, surprisingly offering you a hand to help you get up from the ground, “I’ll eat dinner with you and then you can come with me, alright?“ he proposed to Jimin.

Your cousin agreed happily and the three of you walked over to the big house Minwoo and Jimin lived in.

“Did you find her?” your uncle screamed from the kitchen as he heard the door open.

“Yes, I’m here,“ you shouted back as you took off your shoes.

Walking over to them, Mrs. Kim was surprised to see her son, “Oh, Tae. How lovely that you’re here,“ she smiled as cute as always, “Where have you been?”

Both, Taehyung and you felt a bit awkward telling them where exactly Jimin found them, not wanting anyone to get a wrong idea. But, of course, your annoying cousin was faster.

“They were sleeping in the barn together,“ he smirked as he told your family, enjoying every minute of it, “You two seem to get along better by now.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes, “We were literally just taking care of the cows.”

You nodded, “It’s not like we met to take a nap in the barn.”

Uncle Minwoo and Mrs. Kim both giggled a bit at the bickering between their families, “Stop teasing them. They are already flustered,“ she said lightheartedly.

Everyone sat down on the table as your uncle brought the food to the table. It smelled like you were sitting in a restaurant and you could feel your mouth watering as you saw the food.

“Thank you for letting us eat with you,“ Taehyung said in a polite manner.

“Oh, Tae!” Minwoo exclaimed joyfully, “You’re always welcome. We’re like family.”

He nodded thankful as all of you started eating. The food was truly delicious and the conversation was nice, all of you participating in it, talking about current events and life on the farm.

You weren't sure if it was because your families were there but Taehyung was unusually nice to you, not even nagging you once. He passed you the salt when you asked him to and he even asked you about your job back at home.

It was a nice evening and you cherished it, knowing that it probably was a once in a lifetime experience to have a normal, peaceful conversation with Taehyung in the same room as you.

About an hour later you started walking from the big house to the small hut and even if it only took a minute or two Taehyung walked right beside you, not leaving your side.

Maybe he truly wasn't as bad as you made him out to be – the two of you might have had some difficulties but thinking about it now he seemed to open up to you more and more. As both of you stood in front of your door, you fiddled with your hands, not knowing how to react to being all alone with him.

“Don’t let Jimin drink too much tonight. I need him to be fit tomorrow. It’s my day off,“ you joked.

“I promise to stop him if he drinks too much,“ he smiled brightly, the wrinkles around his eyes showing slightly, “I’ll see you around?”

A scoff escaped your lips before you could hold it back, “Considering the fact that you can look inside my living room from your window I think so yes.”

And with that, he started walking towards his house but even after he was gone you still couldn't stop smiling.

The few next weeks were pretty unspectacular, working on the farm was part of your everyday life by now and your work was a routine, knowing every small step of it.

But still, today you woke up with a smile plastered on your face – it’s not like anyone besides Jimin and Minwoo, maybe Yoongi, would know it’s your birthday today but you still loved your special day.

It didn't matter that no one would know, you were quite happy that to everyone else this day would be just another day. You, on the other hand, had tons of self-care plans for tonight.

The first thing you did that morning was checking your phone, happy to see that your friends from home – or more like what used to be home to you – thought of you and send you very nice birthday greetings full of love, telling you that they missed you. In no time you got up and dressed to go over to the main house.

“So, what do you want to do today?” Jimin asked you as you had breakfast with him and your uncle. Despite you telling them that they shouldn't worry about you, they still made you some scrambled eggs and cut a lot of the vegetables from the Kim’s farm, Jimin even managed to go to the heart of the city to buy some buns for all of you.

Stretching yourself, tiredness still washing over you, you thought about his question. “I actually don’t know, I thought I'd just do some sheet masks later and watch Netflix,” you said shrugging before eating a piece of cucumber, “Why? Any ideas?”

“Why don’t you invite your friends over, (y/n)?” your uncle suggested but you’d rather not. The problem with inviting people over is you can’t leave early since they are literally at your own place and you'd never kick them out, not wanting to be unfriendly.

“No way, I don’t even think most people know about my birthday. I’ll stay lowkey about it,“ you denied your uncle's request, just wanting to have a nice night on the couch after you took a long bath – an ideal night for you.

“Why don't we have a movie night?” you suggested to your two family members but they didn’t seem to show much support to your idea.

Uncle Minwoo immediately stopped you, “I’m not letting you stay at home with your old uncle and cousin on your birthday.”

“I’d love that though. We hadn’t had a movie night in a long time,“ you pouted, hoping to convince your uncle despite knowing you had no chance against him.

“Jimin, take her to the pub, alright?” he instructed his son who was currently not listening to the conversation and instead was texting someone.

“Sure,“ he agreed with his father before looking up from his phone, “I’ll take you to the pub later, (y/n). No discussion.”

So a few hours later you found yourself in your small bathroom, putting on a real full face make-up for the first time ever since you moved here, you almost forgot how pretty you could be.

Jimin said to make sure that you looked your best since a lot of other people would be there, including the girl he ‘sometimes takes out’, as he liked to call it.

Even though you were still not fully in the mood, you started to warm up to the idea of going out as you got ready. In the end, you knew it wouldn't hurt to doll yourself up and go out every now and then – and maybe, just maybe, Taehyung would be there too.

Jimin picked you up from your place at around eight in the evening, the sky already pitch-black.

“Hey birthday kid,“ he said lovingly, “I didn't know you could look this lovely. Trying to impress a certain boy?”

Throwing him a glare that was about to end his life you were ready to hit your cousin if he wouldn’t stop mentioning your attraction towards your neighbor. You prayed he didn’t tell Tae about it, his ego was big enough and you didn’t know if you could survive if he’d become even cockier. Taehyung knew how handsome he was and that he could probably get just any girl if he wanted already so you didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

“I’ll kill you if you don’t shut your mouth,“ you threatened him even though you knew that nothing could stop Jimin's teasing ever.

Arriving at the Pub, you couldn’t help but grin like an idiot – all of your friends were waiting inside, a whole booth decorated just for you. Yoongi was the first to welcome you, hugging you tightly. “Happy Birthday, princess,“ he almost whispered into your ear before the other people were waiting for their turn to congratulate you.

Hoseok and Namjoon were there, including Namjoon’s girlfriend, that you hadn’t met before. Jungkook, of course, was there too and even gifted you some sunflower. “Those are my favorite!” you told him excited, to which he replied that he still remembered.

Jimin introduced you to his almost-girlfriend and she seemed to be a nice girl, a bit smaller than him, with cute glasses, short hair and a nose ring that she pulled off like no one else could.

And last but not least Kim Taehyung was standing in front of you, trying to look cold and unbothered like always, but his eyes were sparkling a bit, giving away that he wasn't as cool as he wanted to be.

“You’re here!” you gasped, genuinely excited to see him, “I feel honored.”

He shook his head joyful. “Don’t let it get to your head. Happy birthday, farmer girl,“ for the first time ever Taehyung hugged you, and you hated to admit that it felt quite comforting – the hug didn’t feel awkward or forced at all, he even had his hand on your head, right in your hair.

Yoongi and Jimin, who were standing behind Taehyung, were inspecting the hug you shared, drawing hearts with their fingers in the air for only you to see as you turned red.

“(Y/n), we got a present for you! Come on, sit down,” Hoseok happily singsang from the table and Taehyung let you go, way too early for your liking, but you weren’t complaining – you appreciated what you got this far.

As you sat down beside Yoongi, Taehyung sat right next to you, pretty close since you were sitting on a small bank with five people.

The booth was decorated with a paper chain that spelled “Happy Birthday”, a few presents were waiting for you on the table, right next to many glasses and several bottles of alcohol.

“This one is from me, Hoseok and Seokjin,“ Namjoon said excited, handing you a present.

Opening it you couldn’t help but pout at their heartwarming idea: They gifted you a framed picture the four of you when you were little, you were maybe around three to four years old.

„God, we were so small,“ you chuckled, studying the picture.

Hoseok smiled wholeheartedly, “There’s a little wheel on the side that you have to move,“ he explained and so you did – as you turned the little wheel more pictures of your friends and you appeared, all of them from different years.

“I love it,“ you smiled at them, “I'll find a special place to display it, I promise.”

“Open our’s next,“ Yoongi said, an untrustworthy smirk on his face. “It’s from me and Jimin.”

Just because you knew the two of you too well, you didn’t trust them at all.

“I bet it’ll get also a very, very special place at your home,“ Jimin assured you and you just knew at that point they probably got you something very stupid.

And they did – you let out a deep breath, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Thanks, I really needed that,“ you said sarcastically as you hold the box of the vibrator they gifted you in your hand.

Both of the boys bursted out into laughter, making you sigh.

„You think you're so funny, don't you? How old are you? Fourteen?“ you snipped both of their foreheads but still, a chuckle managed to slip out. Not really because you thought the present was funny but more because the boys were so amused by their own idea.

“We know the nights get lonely here,“ Jimin said, still laughing like a teenager, “Much fun with it. Just call Taehyung if you need any help with it.”

“Yeah, no, thanks, I think I can handle that on my own,“ you quickly responded before anyone else could join their nagging, “I really need a shot now. Otherwise, I won't be able to deal with you.”

Yoongi immediately poured a round of shots for everyone, “To our little (y/n).”

All of your friends clinked glasses and downed the shot. Within a few hours, one shot became quite a few, too many to count them. Jimin and his girl were making out heavily in the corner of the pub – much to your disgust. While you were happy for your cousin you still could imagine better things than seeing your family member's tongue in someone's mouth.

Yoongi, you, Seokjin, Namjoon and Taehyung were currently playing a card drinking game that you not only never heard of before but was also killing you at a fast pace.

“(Y/n), your turn,“ Taehyung glanced at you, raising his eyebrow – his cheeks were red and the sloppy smile on his face gave away that he also was at least a bit intoxicated by now, “Red or black?”

That was the whole point of the game, basically the only rule. You had to say a color and if the card didn’t have the color you had to take a shot. Seokjin said it was the best game to get really drunk really fast, and boy, he was right.

“Red”, you answered or to be exact, mumbled since you had a hard time pronouncing your words clearly by now.

And, of course, luck wasn’t on your side - as Taehyung turned around the card it showed black. “Tae~“ you let out a whine as he laughed, “I literally cannot drink this shot or else I’ll throw up.”

Your head was turning and your stomach felt warm and tingly, a part of you suddenly felt playful and giggly, which was pretty unusual for you. Looking at Taehyung you felt something deep down in your stomach – the way his rather long and curly hair fell into his face and his tanned skin was glowing was a beautiful sight. God, you really wanted to blame it on the booze but deep down you were aware that you were just fooling yourself.

“You’re no fun,“ he almost whined before taking the shot, “I’ll take it for you since it’s your birthday.”

“Oh, what a gentleman you are,“ you nudged him.

“Just trying to get drunk,“ he shrugged laughing before downing the shot as if it was nothing.

Your glance waved over to Jungkook, who was e the drunkest, his eyes slowly closing. “Jungkook!” you poked his upper arm, not sure if you should laugh or be concerned, “Are you passing out?”

“Hmm?” he responded, trying to open his eyes but failing, “Oh no. I’m just taking a nap.”

You peeked to Taehyung beside you, questioning him what to do, “Are you going to babysit him?”

He scoffed, “That isn’t my problem to deal with.”

About two hours later you decided that it was time to go home, having to admit that you did have fun despite wanting to stay home at first. You thanked everyone and grabbed your bag.

“What about you?” you asked Taehyung who was sitting on his phone, texting someone with his eyebrows furrowed, “You’re staying?”

His eyes met yours as he looked up from his phone, “No, I’m walking you home. Give me a second.”

You decided to wait outside, in need of some fresh air to sober you up.

Slowly, you started to walk towards your home, knowing Taehyung would be able to catch up in no time. And he did, of course.

“Oh!” he looked at you with wide eyes as he arrived by your side, before opening his bag, looking for something, “It’s your birthday!”

“No shit, Sherlock,“ you responded unimpressed at his sudden realization, walking through the little city at night, still not used to how beautiful the stars were here, „You just got that now?“

“No, wait. I actually got you something,“ the boy mumbled and you thought you heard wrong for a second. At least until Taehyung handed you a box, a rather big one.

“Are you serious?” you asked surprised, suddenly feeling shy. This morning you were convinced he didn’t even know it was your birthday but now he was standing in front of you, with a present that was neatly wrapped in yellow wrapping paper.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it, please,“ he chuckled as you two walked through the dark night, only a few lanterns on your way home, “Just open it. It felt wrong not to get you anything. I mean, we’re neighbors now, and also co-workers.”

Your arm nudged him, playfully asking, “Maybe even friends?”

His laugh seemed to be even louder and happier when he’s drunk, “Says who? You wish!” before immediately adding, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Maybe even that. Now open it. Let’s sit down.“

Your neighbor gestured at the bank on the side of the way, a few steps away.

He took out his phone to turn on the flashlight so you could see, sitting dangerously close to you. “Why didn’t you give it to me earlier?” you asked him curiously.

“You know, I gotta keep my cool reputation in front of them,“ he joked.

“Ah, can’t let them know that you have a crush on me?” you blurted out, trying to flirt, knowing you would never say those things if it wasn’t for all the shots you drank earlier.

“You’re a pain in the ass,“ he mocked you a bit, “Will you please just open it now? There are a few smaller things.”

As you ripped open the wrapping paper you let out a laugh, impressed by his first present, “A raincoat? I could’ve seen that one coming.”

“I still can’t believe you don’t own one. Look underneath, there’s also a shirt you can use for work so you won’t ruin your good clothes,“ he said, almost proud of his idea and it was adorable.

The shirt was grey and oversized - and also, there was a picture printed onto it. Taehyung let out another laugh, covering his mouth with his hand to stop him from laughing harder, before you could see what was on it.

As he shined his flashlight on the picture you were not only extremely amused but also very amazed that he did that for you, even though he obviously was trying to be funny, you genuinely liked it – the picture was a selfie of Taehyung, giving a thumbs up, right next to his favorite being on this earth, Bertha. Underneath the picture the sentence ‘(Y/n), you can do it. I hope.’ was written in big letters.

“You’re seriously the worst,“ you joined his laughter, wondering how in the hell he got this idea. The atmosphere was almost friendly – a new step for the two of you. Not that you didn’t like him before, you just thought that he didn’t like you back.

“I think you’ll look quite good in it, (y/n),“ he smiled proudly, definitely satisfied with himself.

“You’re such a flirt,“ you said sarcastically.

The last gift in the box really got to you though - it immediately brought back a lot of memories, cherished ones, of your childhood. An overwhelming rush of sentiment came over you as you couldn't believe your eyes.

“Tae, I–” you were looking for the right words to say but none came to your head, “Is it what I think it is?”

“If you think it’s your old music box that played Somewhere Over The Rainbow over and over again, then it is, yes,“ he replied, playing it cool as if it wasn't a big thing.

You totally forgot about it until now, back in the day you always used to play it before going to bed, falling asleep immediately to the soothing sound of it – back then it didn't matter where you were: you wouldn't fall asleep without the petite woodbox playing your favorite song.

“Where did you even get this?“ you asked him, gulping.

“Oh, Minwoo gave it to me to calm the cows on thunder days,“ he said amused.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,“ you chuckled, still inspecting the music box. It seemed to be even prettier than you remembered it.

“Do you like it?” he asked, turning towards you, “I know how obsessed you were with it as a child so I thought you’d like to have it back. The cows didn’t like it anyway.”

Your eyes met his, not knowing what to say. He was so cool about it when to you, this might be one of the most meaningful presents you've gotten in a long time. The fact that he even remembered how in love you were with this music box and how thoughtful of him it was to give it back to you. Slowly you put the box down, still feeling a bit overwhelmed. It was probably stupid, for him it was just a simple present and you were overreacting, right? But still, it was so much more than you would’ve expected. Especially from him

“I love it,“ you assured him, the wrinkles around his eyes deeper than you’ve ever seen them before. “Thank you so much.”

Before he could say something to ruin the moment you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in his collar. It took him a few moments to realize what was happening, a hug was something he didn’t expect at all, but it did feel nice. His arms carefully found your waist and hugged you back.

You could see how red his cheeks were as your hug ended but for once you decided to not tease him, not wanting to ruin a genuinely nice moment. The two of you didn’t have those very often.

“Shall we go home?” Taehyung asked softly as he stood up, waiting for you to join him.

The two of you were walking for a while, way slower than usual. It might be the alcohol in your veins or simply the secret desire to spend some more time together, alone and outside of the farm.

“Be honest,“ you started carelessly, it almost sounded like you were singing it, “You do think I’m cute.”

Looking up to Taehyung you saw that he was smiling and didn’t seem to care about your teasing anymore.

“I do think you’re cute. That doesn’t make you less any annoying though,“ he replied, his tone almost playful. As you were walking your shoulders were lightly brushing every now and then, a rush of excitement going through your body every single time.

“Now you be honest. You were totally checking me out when you saw me on the day you moved here,“ he countered, the conversation light.

You let out a small scoff, “I maybe would have if I hadn’t been to busy trying to free myself from your grip since you thought I was stealing your chicken,“ you snapped at him and Taehyung let out a laugh at that memory. Even though it wasn’t long ago it felt like years, considering how much your relationship developed since then.

“Your turn. You would’ve gone home sooner but you were waiting to walk me home,“ the vibe Taehyung gave you told you it was okay to dig a bit deeper.

“Now you’re just being overconfident, (y/n),“ he laughed and you thought about how his laugh is so different than his mum’s. His mother's laugh was light and charming while his laugh was deep and full of joy, almost bold and loud.

“If you say I’m wrong you’re lying,“ you insisted while looking up to the beautiful night sky, not letting loose. Even though you were a bit cold you didn’t really care, you could walk and talk for a few more hours without complaining.

“I never said you’re wrong,“ he answered quietly, now more soft and serious, “But don’t let it get to your head, I know my mum would kill me if she heard that you had to walk home alone.”

“You’re so in love with me dude, how gross,“ you joked, not able to stop your usual nagging.

By now it seemed like that was Taehyung’s and your’s thing somehow. It was an open secret that there was something between the two of you, whatever that was. Maybe, you and Taehyung were still denying it but your friends weren't completely wrong when they talked about your relationship to each other.

“I really don’t know if I wanna shove you off this bridge or kiss your annoying ass,“ he stated shamelessly, trying to sound annoyed but his mood was just as good as yours and the cheeky flirting was something he missed over the last years.

It’s been too long since he met someone he liked so much that he didn’t have to care about what he said. Spending time with you made him feel careless. The night air and the sky that was full of stars just loosened up the mood even more.

Even though your heart was beating faster at his comment you tried to remain cool – he said it so casually as if the topic of kissing you was something completely normal to him, making you realize that maybe Taehyungand you were indeed becoming something more than friends.

“Oh, can I pick?”, you grinned at him.

“No,“ he answered easily while pushing you towards the edge of the bridge you were currently walking on, making you gasp a bit, while trying to balance yourself so you wouldn’t fall over the low wooden railing.

What exactly was he doing? Just in the right moment, he held you, his arm around your waist, being a bit too close to you which was making your heart beat insanely fast. As you looked at him your eyes were opened wide, the shock written all over your face.

Taehyung still was holding you close, giving you the brightest smile ever, his expression full of joy, “Did you really think that I’d let you fall?”

“Yes!“ you almost shouted out of shock, a hundred percent sure that he’d actually do something like that, “If anyone in this town would then it would be you.”

He acted a bit offended, as he pulled your body a bit closer to his again, your intestines feeling all over the place. Half of your body was still bent over the bridge as Taehyungs hold was the only support that stopped you from falling right into the water. His face came near yours and at this moment you wanted nothing more than to feel his lips on yours.

“Well, if you think that lowly of me,“ he started, before pausing his sentence, you could swear that you could feel his breath tingling on your lips and see his eyes wandering down to look at your them – but before anything else could happen you started losing balance as Taehyung let go of your body, making you fall right into the lake behind you.

Of course, he’d do something like that. You should've guessed that.

As you came up again you were drenched. The water was at least still warm enough to not make you shiver while climbing up to the bridge again. Taehyung was laughing wholeheartedly, his one hand once again covering his mouth, while holding his other hand out for you so he could help you.

You immediately took his offer, taking a tight grip on his hand before getting your revenge – within seconds Taehyung forcefully joined you in the water, his eyes popping out when you completely caught him off guard.

“I should’ve seen that coming,“ he admitted, now also completely wet but still amused, “I deserved that.”

The two of you were chuckling, no one of you seemed to want to get out of the water for now.

“Remember the one time we were having a contest here about who can stay underwater the longest when we were children?” you asked him thinking back to older days, one of the few memories you had with him.

He nodded while walking towards you, leaning his back against the bridge. His body was close to yours, his face facing yours, “I remember you and Jimin being afraid because you thought I fainted because I let my body swim on the surface with my head under the water still.”

Hitting his chest, you squinted your eyes, “You were the worst, seriously! Why would you do this to me? I was so afraid.”

His arm found your hip, resting lazily on it - you wondered if he’d also do that if he was completely sober, “To make good memories.”

“Well, that’s also about our only memory because you always avoided me when we were younger,“ you stated, a bit salty.

His laughter sounded different this time, if you didn’t know better you’d almost say there was some kind of admiration in it. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,“ he apologized, putting his hands up in the air, still laughing before looking at you once again – it’s like you completely forgot about being in the water now in the middle of the night.

“Wanna know a secret?” he asked you, whispering as if you had to be careful to not get caught.

“Always,“ you answered eager as your eyes widened in excitement.

“I avoided you because I had the biggest crush on you and Yoongi always said girls suck and if anyone of us ever kissed a girl they’d be kicked out of the gang,“ he admitted, smiling back at the memory.

“Okay, but Yoongi was literally my first kiss,“ you confessed to him, “I think he knew exactly why he told you that.”

Now it was Taehyung who was in shock, not you. “You’re kidding me,“ he sounded offended, “I can’t believe he’d play me like this because of some chick.”

“Hello? I’m right here,“ you scoffed, shaking your head amused.

“Oh, I bet you’d rather be where Yoongi is, huh?” he stared you down for a second before breaking character and starting to laugh, “But seriously, he never even told me. He knew I’d fight him about it.”

“It must be hard to always be as dramatic as you are,“ you scoffed, as you got out of the water again, starting to shiver a bit, “Let’s go home, I’m cold.”

He got out of the water too and you tried hard not to stare at his chest that was completely showing through his white shirt.

“You should have put on a jacket,“ he shrugged, acting as if it's your fault that you were completely drenched and cold.

“You little shit,“ you countered as the two of you were walking towards your home, “I’m only cold because you pushed me into the lake.”

“I had fun tonight,“ you admitted to him as you were standing in front of your door once again, “You’re not awful.”

“Thank you?”, he laughed unsure before he continued, “You’re also not awful, (y/n).”

“I mean, you were not the nicest in the beginning, I thought you hated me. But now, I think you tolerate me,“ you said, a winning smile on your face.

“Believe it or not, I think you’re pretty cool,” he mirrored your smile, nodding.

“I’ll let my diary know about that,” you assured him.

He just stood there for a second, looking at you. Both of you didn’t want to part, enjoying time with each other but you didn’t want things to get awkward.

“I’m sorry I pushed you into the water,“ he mentioned, laughing while apologizing.

You rolled your eyes at his half-assed apology, “Yeah sure. You better make up for that.”

He nodded, “I will. I promise. Good night, (y/n).“

Suddenly you felt him hugging you, not expecting it once again. Three hugs in one day were something you didn’t expect at all when you woke up this morning.

“Sleep well,“ you told him as you closed the door behind you, removing your make up, changing into comfortable clothes and letting yourself fall into your bed, falling asleep with a smile on your lips. You were definitely making progress.

A few days after your birthday and the situation with Taehyung, it was about time to talk to someone about your confusing feelings. Yoongi was the first person that came to your mind, definitely not wanting to talk to Jimin about it.

As the two of you were sitting outside on your porch, drinking a beer and enjoying the sunset slowly going down, you decided to tell him about what happened after you and Taehyung left on your birthday.

“He gifted you your old music box?” he asked confused, almost shocked, “That’s so much better than the vibrator we gifted you, dammit.”

You let out a laugh, “Anything is better than that.”

“Well, apparently you won’t be needing it any time soon if you and Taehyung continue to fall in love at that pace,“ your best friend gave you a small wink.

“Yoongi,“ you let out a pout, “I really don’t know what I should do. He was about to kiss me by the lake but instead, he let me fall into the water.”

He was trying his hardest to contain his laughter as you told the story but he couldn’t help it, “You really think he’s the one you want? I bet not even Jungkook would behave that awkward.”

Chuckling, you shrugged, “I guess I just like a challenge.”

Yoongi nodded, “He definitely is one. Bare with him, it’s been some time. His last girlfriend and him broke up quite some time ago.”

When Yoongi mentioned the word gilfriend you felt curiosity awakening inside of you, “What was she like?”

Taking a sip of his beer, he glanced at you, a bit pitiful, “Are you sure you wanna do this to yourself?”

“I’m just curious,“ you assured him, „No hard feelings.“

Before Yoongi could start telling you about her you were disturbed by your cousin, who just finished his work, a beer in his hand as he sat down on the free chair on your table, „What are you talking about?”

“My hopeless crush,“ you said, laughing.

“What else,“ he shrugged, unimpressed, “You could still date Jungkook, you know.”

You shook your head before turning back to Yoongi, “So, tell me about her, I can’t imagine him with a girl at all.”

“Are we talking about Elly?” Jimin asked confused, trying to catch up with your conversation.

“Yes,” Yoongi said, trying to start once again before getting interrupted by Jimin, also once again.

“She wasn’t shit, (y/n). Don’t worry about her. I never liked her. They weren’t even really a couple.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, “She wasn’t all bad, Jimin. She was actually quite nice at the beginning. She’s from the town next to ours, the granddaughter of the owner of the library – we were friends with her back then when she still visited every weekend. I guess she was into Tae from the first second and he was, well, frustrated. So they became friends with benefits. Nothing too serious at first.”

“(Y/n), I really don’t get why you’d wanna know. You’ll just hurt yourself,“ your cousin seemed to worry, clearly disagreeing with your curiosity.

“They broke up so I won’t be hurt, I just can’t imagine him in a relationship at all. I need some information for research,“ you argued.

“He was a good boyfriend, I guess,“ Jimin thought about it, taking a big gulp of his beer, “Like he visited her often and made sure to bring her to every event or birthday. But one of them would always start a fight and it got so annoying over time. Every time he brought her I was afraid to say anything to him because if I only said one wrong word she’d start to discuss with him.”

Yoongi now interrupted him, “Well, it wasn’t only her who started fights, to be fair. Taehyung often enough started one too, whenever he was in a bad mood he’d always find a reason to fight.”

A scoff came out of your mouth, “I already thought he’d be one to pick fights, to be honest.”

“Speaking of the devil,“ Yoongi nodded towards the house of the Kim’s and as you turned around you saw Taehyung jogging over to you. He seemed to be in a good mood, a smile on his lips, something rather unusual.

“Why are you having a nice evening and no one cared to call me?” he asked as he arrived in front of you, holding up a big plate with many different pieces of cakes on it, “I brought cake.”

Jimin immediately took the plate and set it down in front of him as Taehyung sat down on the free seat on the bench beside you.

“We were just talking shit about you,“ Jimin started, getting up to get some forks from inside.

“Why? What did I do?” he asked, already sounding offended, ready to defend himself without knowing what even seemed to be the problem.

“I just told them about how you let me fall into the lake,“ you huffed, salty, not letting it go easily.

“Why would you do that?” he asked in a whiny tone, “Aren’t they teasing us enough already?”

“I don’t care about that. I still can’t believe you’ve done that. I could’ve caught a cold.”

He now crossed his arms in front of his chest, “You didn’t though, right? I brought you cake as an apology, just to find you hanging out with our friends, without me?”

Yoongi let out a laugh at your constant bickering, “Young love must be so nice.”

“Be quiet,“ you gave him a warning glance before you turned back to the real enemy here, “You think cake can just fix the trust I lost in you?”

He let out a laugh, “You’re being overdramatic.”

Actually, you couldn’t care less that he let you fall into the lake. It was just fun to pick fights with him, “You’re being an asshole.”

He scoffed before continuing your discussion in a mocking voice, “Wanted me to kiss you so bad that you can’t get over the fact that I didn’t?”

You let out a small gasp, not expecting his comeback. Yoongi and Jimin were both trying no to laugh watching the two of you fight.

“If you think that, you’re truly delusional,“ you stated, even though everyone here knew he was right, “The only reason I didn’t kill you right then was because I was so relieved you didn’t kiss me.”

He snorted, not ready to give up yet, “Sure, just keep on telling it to yourself until you start to believe it.”

And this is how you spent the rest of the evening. Three of your closest friends, cake, one or two or maybe even more beers, a beautiful pink sunset and most important - in the place you loved to call your home.

“(Y/n), give me a hand, please,“ your neighbor screamed from the other side of the farm, struggling to put up the pavilion that was supposed to cover the tables from the weather.

It was a warm autumn day but you knew that it could basically start to pour any second. Quickly you jogged over to Taehyung, leaving Jimin alone with the other preparations for the big harvest festival that was held once a year on the farm. It was a tradition you used to love as a child and you were more than happy to participate again this year.

As you walked over you couldn’t help but notice how mesmerizing he looked once again. There was sweat dripping down his face while he gave you a light and exhausted chuckle, holding up one side of the pavilion with his rather strong arms. The white shirt and grey sweatpants he was wearing might as well be the death of you. Oh god, you definitely hated being attracted to him.

“What’s up, Kim?” you asked, desperately trying to sound as unbothered as possible.

He, on the other hand, continued to smile, shaking his head, “Can you please hold up the other side over there?” he asked, pointing to it, “I’ll do the rest.”

You went over and held up the other side, having to stand on your tiptoes. “Are you excited for tonight?” you asked him, desperate to make conversation with him. Even though by now Taehyung was being very nice to you, you were still always trying to make him like you. Even though Jimin and Yoongi assured you he likes you quite a lot by now you still wanted him to admit to it. His attention was your favorite thing at the moment, you couldn’t get enough of it.

He shrugged while concentrating on a screw he was currently trying to get in, “Not really. It’s not gonna be different than any other year.”

“I’m here now so it is gonna be different than before,” you said, making him look up from his work for a second, his eyes finding yours.

“So, you’re going to make the harvest festival interesting again?” you saw the smirk on his face before continuing, “Don’t get up my hopes.”

“Share a bottle of liquor with me and I bet we’ll have a lot of fun,” you stated boldly, immediately embarrassed at your way too obvious flirting. At this point, you were sure that he was very aware of your obvious crush on him. He was many things. Rude, annoying, sometimes even a bit mean but delusional wasn’t one of them.

“Are you flirting with me, (y/n)?” he asked almost a bit teasingly.

“I am,” you said, trying to sound confident but you were pretty sure your now deep red cheeks were giving you away.

He seemed to be amused and he shook his head in what seemed to be joy.

“Not bad,” was all he said, shrugging before his full attention was back on building the pavilion.

You looked around the big farm as Taehyung was working. It looked beautiful, there were a lot of tables with benches, all of them had some flowers and candles on top of them, you could only imagine how cute it would look as soon as the sky was dark and all the candles were lit.

Jimin was currently preparing some baskets filled with eggs, milk, some wool, all different kinds of fruits and vegetables and even some feathers you picked up from the pond where the ducks stayed as a lucky charm – your uncle and Taehyung’s mother would sell them later on, the people always loved those little baskets.

Taehyung’s mother was inside, preparing food for the night. She was overdoing herself, cooking four different kinds of soups, baking too many loaves of bread for the visitors to eat, she even has been baking all kind of cakes since yesterday night.

“Your mum is an angel,” you mumbled more to yourself than to him but Taehyung still heard you, laughing a bit.

“She just really loves the harvest festival. But yes, I agree, she really is,” he answered without looking at you, “There’s gonna be plenty of leftovers tomorrow, I’ll bring you some if you want.”

You nodded even though he didn’t see, “I’d love that.”

“Hey, (y/n)!” Gus, the owner of the restaurant, came up to you. He drove up here in his truck, the whole back of it filled with different meals that he contributed for tonight, “Where should I put the fish and meat?”

Taehyung told you that you could leave and help Gus for now so you showed him where the food was being served. There was a long in the middle of the farm, where Gus’ and Mrs. Kim’s food was going to be sold later on. It was opposite to the little dancefloor your uncle built earlier, he even got a pretty good sound system for the night. You already anticipated seeing all of the older people dance later, it was always very cute to see them be happy. All the tables to sit on were placed in between the dancefloor and the food.

As you were helping Gus’ to carry the food you saw Yoongi and his parents coming up to you.

“Hey cutie,” your best friend greeted you as he put down the three beer crates he was casually caring like they didn’t weigh anything, “How are things going?”

“I’m really excited for tonight,” you cheered with a wide smile on your lips, “My last harvest festival was years ago, I still had to go to bed at eight o’clock at that time.”

He let out a laugh, “Oh, that’s when the fun is just starting.”

You only managed to finish all the work an hour before the first people came to the festival. Within no time the whole farm was filled with people as the sun was slowly going down.

You didn’t expect so many people to actually show up. Not only the whole village was attending tonight’s fest but a lot of them also brought their family from out of town, a lot of faces you’ve never seen before.

It luckily didn’t rain yet and you were hoping it would stay that way for the rest of the night. The sky was dark now and all the candles were lit, making the atmosphere cozy. People were eating, drinking and enjoying themselves, some even danced to the 80′s music that was playing already.

You were sitting on the side of a table, just looking around and appreciating everything as a few of your friends came up to you.

“Don’t you wanna eat something?” Jungkook asked you, nodding towards the table with the food, “We were just about to grab something, join us.”

“Let’s also grab a drink or two,” your cousin, who clearly already had more than just a drink or two, his bright pink cheeks exposing him, shouted as he came up behind Jungkook, Yoongi and Yoongi’s girlfriend.

Your mouth watered as you saw, and especially smelled, the food that was offered. Now you were very thankful that you didn’t have the time to eat all day. All the food looked amazing and you didn’t even know where to start. Hoseok and Namjoon both went for the meat but you wanted to start with something more light for now, looking at all the soups Mrs. Kim made.

“Try mum’s Italian wedding soup, it’s the best,” you flinched lightly as Taehyung came up behind you out of nowhere, his arm casually resting on your shoulder.

You tried to play it cool in front of your friends but inside you were all tense, just because of Tae being so close to you.

“I’ll have that then,” you agreed, telling his mother who was handing out food tonight. Both you and Taehyung offered her to help out earlier but she insisted that you should just enjoy the evening.

“Of course, my darling,” she poured some of the soup into a big cup, giving you and her son a wide smile, “You two look just adorable together.”

You felt yourself blushing but you were pretty sure that no one would notice in the dark.

“Right? We’ve been telling them the whole time,” Hoseok joined, excitement in his eyes, agreeing with his friends’ mother. You heard a deep, frustrated groan from Taehyung.

“Guys,” he squinted his eyes at both of them with a warning glance but he still was resting his arm on you, not even thinking about removing it, “Can you mind your own business? Just for once?”

Yoongi chuckled at the two of you, knowing exactly that you were trying your hardest to keep your cool, “You know they won’t leave you alone until something happens.”

He was right. But you weren’t sure if and when things would happen. And what those things even would be. When it came to Taehyung you felt more clueless than ever before. Not even your math class in senior year seemed that confusing.

“Yeah, because no one in this town knows how to respect the boundaries of other people,” Taehyung bitterly said through gritted teeth, slightly annoyed but everyone just let out a laugh, not taking him seriously, thinking it’s funny that he gets so worked up over some simple teasing.

“I’m sorry (y/n),” Mrs. Kim turned towards you, apologizing, but you could still see a little amused smile on her lips, “I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I don’t mind at all,” you assured her, “Don’t apologize.”

“I’ll go and get us something to drink,” Yoongi offered after he got some food, his lips already pressed against his girlfriend’s neck again before turning to you, “Save us a seat.”

You waited for the rest to get something to eat and wondered what was suddenly going on with Taehyung, he wasn’t leaving your side at all which was pretty unusual for him. Last week he was still too afraid to give you a birthday present in front of the boys and now he was suddenly even touching you in front of everyone?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered for only you to hear as all of you were looking for a table to sit on. On the way, he let go of you but still was walking right next to you. Not that you minded, you enjoyed the sudden attention he was giving you, you just had to get used to it.

“What for?” you asked him, shrugging lightly, “I don’t care if the guys tease us. They think we’re into each other, they won’t stop anyway.”

“Well, they aren’t so dumb after all, huh?” he still whispered to you, chuckling a bit as he turned around to the others, pointing to a free table, “Let’s sit down over there.”

This little shit was flirting with you.

The soup was amazing. The alcohol was pouring. The atmosphere was loud and filled with banter and laughter. Yoongi and his girl were making out in front of everyone in no time, literally being all over each other. Hoseok, Jungkook and Jimin were screaming along to ‘Come on Eileen’ playing in the background, doing those stupid fortnite dances to the old music, constantly motivating each other to do stupid moves and having the time of their lives. Namjoon was talking to his girlfriend, the majority of your friends still had no idea that they were actually dating and you wondered how they managed to keep it a secret in such a small town like this.

You were just laughing every now and then, enjoying everyone’s presence - an evening like this was exactly what you needed, full of friends and possibilities to make amazing memories.

Looking back at the fact that in the beginning, you were so afraid to start a new life here was ridiculous by now – this was your home, you were doing the thing you love with people you wouldn’t trade for anything. Not in a hundred years would you have thought that you’d find your happiness in this small town.

You carefully dared to look over to Taehyung, hoping he wouldn’t catch you staring – you felt tingly, it might be the wine or the butterflies in your stomach but you felt so much comfort and happiness that you wanted to explode.

The way he was laughing was making you go insane – you got lost in the wrinkles around his eyes and his side profile that seemed to be the most perfect thing you’ve ever seen. It was so nice and rare to see him letting go, being completely relaxed and warm. The longer you looked at him the more you craved something deep down in your stomach.

It felt like you were in a movie, the world around you blurred and slowing down while all you could concentrate on was the guy next to you: The guy, that used to be so cold to you and opened up step by step, going from thinking you were stealing chickens to flirting with you in front of everyone.

You secretly hoped that the two of you were figuring out the future of your relationship rather sooner than later, slowly growing impatient. It was obvious to anyone who’d spent only five minutes around you: There was an undeniable tension, a chemistry that both of you felt.

Still staring at him while everyone was laughing and talking he stole a glance from you, seeing that your attention was already completely on him. His features softened as soon as his eyes met yours and the big laughter on his face turned into a small but impactful smile - immediately you felt a rush of confidence running through your veins, your heart beating faster. You hated how you were literally melting for him but you knew exactly that you couldn’t fight it so you might as well let him in.

His eyes were still locked with yours, no one daring to break eye contact. You wondered how this moment could feel so intimate when there were literally 200 people gathered around you – it felt like you were all alone, everyone else was busy cracking jokes while the two of you were busy falling in love. Or at least that was what it felt like.

He gave you a small nod before sitting a bit closer to you, your thighs now touching. “Stop flirting with me. I might just break my cool character and blush,” he joked, making you chuckle before the two of you brought your attention back to your friends who were currently cheering for Jungkook and Jimin, both trying to down their beer faster than the other one.

You shook your head, letting out a laugh at them being messy. Taehyung’s hand sneakily rested on your lower back and you hoped it would stay there for a while.

Jimin finished first and laughed at Jungkook, who was still drinking, “Oh, I can’t believe you thought you could win against me. I’m the king when it comes to drinking,” he bragged.

Yoongi, who was for once breaking free from his girlfriend, shook his head at Jimin, “You’re overconfident. Taehyung, finish him.”

Taehyung let out a groan, “Don’t make me do this.”

“Let’s go Taehyungie, I bet I can beat you easily,” Jimin challenged him, knowing exactly how to provoke his friend.

“Dude, don’t do this to yourself, you’ll lose,” Hoseok yelled, “No one can beat Taehyung, you should know better than that.”

“I trained. And Taehyung didn’t show off his skills in a long time, I think you’re underestimating me,” he insisted, opening another bottle of beer and putting it down in front of Tae.

“Jimin, take it easy. It’s your fourth beer in what? Twenty minutes?” you interrupted, “I don’t wanna clean up all alone tomorrow because you are dying.”

“It’s harvest festival (y/n),” he whined while opening another bottle of wine for you, pouring something into your glass, “You gotta start learning how we do it here.”

Taehyung shook his head, letting out another deep sigh, “You have no chance against me,” he held up his beer and waited for Jimin to do the same.

Jimin had a satisfied smile on his lips, ready to give it his all, “I’m going to fight for your title.”

Taehyung let out a laugh, “That’s cute. Much luck trying.”

All of you were counting down from three and the guys started chugging down the beer like it was a life or death situation. It was stupid and childish but all of you were enjoying it, rooting for Tehyung. If all of your friends could agree on one thing then it would be that Jimin needs to be taken down back to earth every now and then.

You looked at him, your mouth slightly open. One thing you definitely didn’t know about Taehyung was how fast he could drink. He always seemed like the most reasonable and mature guy so you were kind of taken by surprise to see how he downed the bottle in the matter of a few seconds.

“Ha!” he let out, laughing as he put his bottle down, “You’re a fool, dude.”

Jimin let out a laugh, shrugging, “Never thought I had a chance, just wanted you to drink a bit. Who’s the fool now?”

“I didn’t know you could drink like that,” you turned to Taehyung.

“This guy used to get so wasted every weekend, he just acts all pure in front of you,” Namjoon exposed his friend, laughing.

You raised your eyebrow at Taehyung, “Oh, let’s see who can handle more then, shall we?”

Taehyung’s eyes widened surprised, not expecting you to challenge him when it comes to drinking, “You might regret that.”

“I don’t mind regretting a thing or two,” you poured the two of you some shots.

“That’s the spirit,” Jimin cheered, opening another bottle of beer.

Taehyung and you were clinking glasses, “To Bertha!” he mentioned his favorite before both of you downed the shots, making a grimace as the bitter liquor went down your throat.

“That shit tastes horrible,” you stated, making him laugh.

“No one said getting drunk is easy,” he countered before immediately pouring you another shot, “But you wanted this. We can stop if you can’t take it, you know.”

“Definitely not,” you scoffed raising your eyebrow at him and holding up the shot glass, “It’s going to be a long, long night.”

“Oh, don’t promise what you can’t keep,” he flirted amused, laughing at you before getting ready to down the next shot, “To you and me.”

Nodding, you gave him a smile, “Whatever that might mean.”

You didn’t know what was faster: The time flying by or your alcohol level rising. It was around midnight now and the night just started. All of you were still drinking eagerly, sharing stupid stories and daring each other to do even more stupid things. The music was loud and the older people were dancing like there’s no tomorrow while you were still sitting at the table, playing cards and taking videos and photos of each other.

Some other girls around your age joined your group, you didn’t know them but the rest did. It was a nice group of people overall.

You still were watching the elders dance, smiling to yourself as your uncle and Taehyung’s mum were dancing with each other, seemingly having the best time.

“Aren’t they cute?” Tae turned to you with a grin, his hand resting right above your knee, slightly squeezing it. You could tell the alcohol had its impact on him because he was getting more touchy by minute, his eyes sparkling.

You nodded, feeling a bit nostalgic seeing them together. They always have been close, both of them lost their significant others early and were left with their children and a whole farm to manage. “It’s nice that they’re having fun. I wish they’d take a break more often.”

Taehyung hummed in agreement, his thumb caressing your leg, “I’m happy Mum has Minwoo. They are always there for each other and talk shit about me and Jimin,” he joked, his eyes still glued to his mother.

He was clearly adoring their little dance while you were adoring him.

“He’s really grateful you’re here.”, you didn’t expect Taehyung to be so serious, a new side of him showing.

“I like being here. Wouldn’t go back,” you told him as you put your hand on top of his, appreciating the moment.

His eyes met yours, not thinking you’d hold his hand in front of everyone, even though no one could see, “You do? I didn’t think you’d fit in or like it here at first if I am honest.”

You let out a laugh, “Yeah, I know. You were very vocal about that if you don’t remember our first encounter as I came back.”

He joined your laughter, giving you an apologetic pout, “I’m sorry. I was being a bit rough, wasn’t I?”

You nodded, “Didn’t expect anything else though. You never opened up towards me when we were younger,” you explained to him in a soft voice, you didn’t want to hurt him with your words.

“I just wondered why you’d move here. I thought it was stupid. What does this little town offer you?” he asked curiously, his eyes glued back to your family.

“This, for example,” you gestured to them, “It’s very heartwarming here. You might not realize because you’ve always been here but this town is full of love.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyebrows a bit, “I bet the actual reason you like it so much here is this cute neighbor of yours.”

You scoffed at his confidence, “Oh, you mean that Taehyung guy? No, he’s just too busy loving himself, I doubt he could ever make time to let someone else in.”

He opened his mouth a bit, acting shocked, “Didn’t you hear?”, he asked you, turning his body to you now to completely face you, “Everyone says he’s a total sucker for you.”

Playing along, you slightly brushed your knees against his, “I don’t think so,” you let out a sigh, “Last week he had the perfect chance to kiss me but instead he threw me into the lake.”

He grinned, not expecting you being so witty. “I’m sure he was just nervous and regrets it very much.”

“I wonder what your sources are. They don’t seem very trustworthy. You know that guy, he has a heart made of stone.”

“Don’t let him fool you,” he came closer to whisper in your ear, “He’s actually a soft man inside.”

“(Y/n)!” your cousin screamed over to you, clearly drunk, ruining your little moment with Taehyung, “Let's go, dance with your favorite cousin.”

You sighed heavily, knowing that refusing won’t work even though you didn’t want the playful banter with Taehyung to end. So a few seconds later you found yourself on the dance floor, jamming to the old classics with your favorite human in town. Taehyung and Yoongi might be close, but no one would beat your family.

The two of you danced around like crazy, exaggerating every move, having fun without any worries for a few songs.

That was until you saw Jimin looking over to the rest of your group, his eyebrows narrowing, a mixture of confusion and anger in his eyes - his jaw clenched as he was glaring somewhere. You followed his gaze to see Taehyung talking to a girl you didn’t know. You didn’t think anything of it at first, he didn’t seem very close to her, maybe even a bit uncomfortable.

“That little shit,” your cousin raised his voice, looking at you, “He better doesn’t do anything stupid.”

You threw him a questioning look, no idea what was going on, “What do you mean? They’re just talking.”

He shook his head, “That’s Elly. Elly and Taehyung are never just talking.“

His ex. What did this mean to you? You didn’t feel jealous somehow. The evening was fine, Taehyung was clearly giving all of his attention to you, the two of you weren’t dating, you didn’t even kiss yet. Of course, you hoped that this would change sooner or later, your feelings for him were undeniable at this point and part of you thought that they weren’t one-sided.

Before you said anything, Jimin was losing his temper, “He can’t treat you like this, (y/n). I’m going to talk to him.”

You laughed at his clearly drunken state, shaking your head, “No no, I can manage my relationships alone, don’t worry.”

He tried to look you in the eyes, failing slightly. You were pretty sure that if you’d ask him to touch his nose right now, he’d miss it by miles.

“Why, of all people, Taehyung? He’s too cold for you. I love this dude but I don’t want you to go through a hard time because of him,” he pouted, suddenly wanting to discuss your love life with you.

You knew you shouldn’t laugh, Jimin was being sincere and caring about you right now but his state was so fucked up that you couldn’t help it, “Let’s get you some water.”

Letting out a heavy sigh because you ignored him, he followed you to the Mins’ table where they were selling drinks.

They immediately let out a laugh, “Oh, Jimin,” Yoongi’s mother said amused at his clearly fucked-up state.

“Can we have a water, please?” you asked her as you held Jimin, wishing he’d stay still.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he tried to convince you, “I could do a cartwheel without a problem.”

“Please don’t,” you laughed at his confidence, giving him the cup of water and thanking Yoongi’s mother, “Should we go back to the table?”

He nodded and you walked over to your group of friends, handing Jimin over to Jungkook. Looking around you saw that Taehyung was missing. Just as his ex-girlfriend.

Of course, you couldn’t know if they left together. Maybe Taehyung just went home without saying goodbye. Checking your phone to see if he maybe texted you just disappointed you even more. You hated that you suddenly felt so vulnerable. The evening was so much fun up to this point, the fact that such a tiny thing could ruin your mood completely made you feel foolish.

Not daring to ask Yoongi if he knew where he went or if they left together, knowing he’d try to comfort you, making you feel even worse, you said your goodbyes to your friends, claiming you were tired and needed some sleep.

Walking over to your home luckily was only taking you a minute, considering that the harvest festival was held on your farm. The worst thing about all this was that you didn’t know how to feel. Technically, you had no reason to be mad or jealous, Taehyung and you never did anything more than flirting.

On the other hand though, you liked him, so of course, it hurt you that he was probably enjoying himself with his ex-girlfriend right now. Your head hurt from all the alcohol and overthinking. You wished he would at least have said goodbye to you. Maybe, after all, he wasn’t into you as much as you thought. Today would’ve been his chance to make a move otherwise.

Opening your door you almost got scared to death. Your heartbeat was going crazy fast and you were even more confused than before. Just as you accepted the fact that Taehyung left the party with his ex-girlfriend, he was sitting on your sofa, playing games on his phones, waiting for no one else than you.

“What are you doing here? How did you even get in?” you almost screamed, still shocked by the thought that someone broke into your house at first.

He laughed, simply stating, “I know where your spare key is.”

You shook your head in disbelief, “But what are you doing here? Why are you just sitting on my sofa?”

“I wanted to leave the party. But I still wanted to spend time with you.”

“What about Elly?” you blurted out, your eyes immediately widening after you asked, realizing that he and you never talked about her.

He looked at you in shock, “W-What?” you never head him stutter before, “What about her? How do you know?”, the confusion on his face vanished a bit, sighing heavy, “Yoongi told you about her, right?”

You nodded, “It just came up once in a conversation we were having. And when I saw you with her I just assumed you left with her.”

He laughed, looking at you like you were crazy, “Why would I do that?”

You shrugged, not having an answer to his question. “What do I know? Maybe you missed her.”

“You’re crazy if you think I’d waste your time like that. And my time also,” he said softly, “Forget about her. She came up to me as soon as you left, trying to talk so I left.”

You nodded, understanding what was going on now, “So, you decided to break into my house?”

“Oh, I can leave if you want me to.“

“That’s not what I said,” you rolled your eyes. Suddenly, there was a pause. Neither of you were saying anything and you felt unsure of how to continue.

“Shouldn’t we clean outside a bit already?” you asked Taehyung, trying to break the silence so you’d get out of this overwhelming situation.

Taehyung, on the other hand, seemed to be very relaxed, he almost felt at home on your sofa. He stood up, coming closer and closer to you, “It can wait until tomorrow.”

When he stopped, he was right in front of you, your feet were almost touching and if someone would push you at this moment, you surely would land on top of him, which actually sounded pretty nice to you. You nodded, trying to sneakily take a deep breath to calm down, you had no idea why you were so nervous. He’s by far not the first guy you kissed but he might be the one kiss you anticipated the most.

His hand slowly ran up your arm, then down again, giving you goosebumps all over your skin, his gentleness making you fall for him even more. His hand found yours and you looked into his eyes, wanting to drown in them as your stomach felt like it was tied in knots.

A small smile formed on Taehyung’s lips as you locked eyes, not able to have a single clear thought. By now you were sure that tonight would be the night you’d finally have him where you wanted him. All for yourself.

Coming nearer, you felt his upper body almost touching yours, his head was leaning in and you saw him slowly closing his eyes as his free hand found your hip, bringing you even closer to him.

The moment before the actual kiss was already breathtaking enough. The mixed smell of his cologne and the alcohol the two of you drank earlier was making you feel dense. The touch of his hand was already burning but as his nose brushed yours slightly, a rush of adrenaline was sent through your whole body, making your stomach turn and you suddenly felt hot in places you didn’t know he had an impact on until now. It was rather quiet, the only sound you could hear was the muffled music from outside, but you couldn’t figure out what song was playing, only feeling the bass of it. Your heart was beating so fast, you hoped he couldn’t hear it.

But all those little and unimportant things around you vanished as soon as you felt his soft lips, pressed onto yours with the perfect amount pressure. The kiss developed from something shy and soft into the projection of what both of you had been craving secretly for so long in no time. No one dared to break the kiss, not wanting it to be over.

His hand wandered all over your body, from your hip to your waist, to your arms, to your neck, right back down to your lower back until he held onto your thighs.

“Jump,” he mumbled hectic, his voice deeper than usual, between your kisses, not wanting to stop.

“Are you sure?” you asked him carefully.

He chuckled into your kiss, “Never been more sure.”

So you did as he told you and jumped up, your legs now crossed around his hips as he held you up like it was nothing, deepening the kiss once again, your tongue playing with his. Being with him like this was more exciting than you ever could’ve imagined.

Your hand found the nape of his neck, burying itself in his soft hair, as he was carrying you to the sofa he was sitting on just a few minutes ago.

So there you were, on top of Kim Taehyung, straddling his muscular thighs, feeling a heat in your core that you haven’t felt in such a long time but missed so much. The way his hands were exploring your body while his lips were busy kissing every single spot on your jaw and your neck was making you feel like you were going insane, leaving you wanting every single part of him.

A small, rather quiet groan came out of your mouth as he pulled you closer to him, not able to suppress what you were feeling any second longer. He chuckled once more, clearly satisfied with the feelings he was giving you, before giving his attention to your lips again.

His one hand was now on your neck, supporting every movement between the two of you, as his other hand was resting on your hip, slowly making you rock back and forth on him, the tension in both of your pants growing.

Slowly, his hand started to wander under your shirt, to a place where you needed him desperately. He was caressing the skin under your shirt carefully, teasing while taking his time. You wanted nothing more than for him to move them upwards towards your breasts, giving you more and more.

His lips were doing its magic on your neck again, kissing and nibbling on a soft spot under your ear as his hand slowly wandered up until his thumb finally found your nipple under your lace bra, the contact making you flinch a bit because of the intense feeling.

He let out a deep groan, sending shivers down your body and an undeniable friction in your underwear grew, making you rock your hips into him once more.

You started to wonder if you were prepared for what was about to happen, the two of you were just starting and you already felt like a mess, wanting him so much more. But he took his time, enjoying every single second of you on top of him.

His hand was now kneading your breast, the pressure just exactly right as he brushed your nipple every now and then, already knowing its effect on you. Every time he touched your bud lightly you couldn’t help but moan.

You let out a small whine as your breast lost contact with his hand, not wanting him to stop. But as you realized that he was only stopping to pull up your shirt you were more than willing to give him what he wanted. Within seconds you were not only shirtless but also braless, as Taehyung was throwing your bra away to the floor.

He studied what you looked like, wanting to never forget this moment. Leaning back on the couch you saw a satisfied smirk on his lips as his hand found your nipple again. He now was looking right into your eyes and you held eye contact with him, trying not to break it as you got wetter every time his thumb was caressing your nipple.

He enjoyed watching you trying to contain yourself for sure. The smirk on his lip was growing now and his glance was filled with a mixture of lust, adoration and mostly, anticipation of what was going to happen next.

You put your hand on his shoulder to support yourself as you started to dry-hump him, letting out a moan, a louder one this time, as you felt his erection under you.

“Shit,” he moaned, breaking eye contact and throwing his head back, his eyes closed as he bit his lip.

All of a sudden he stopped you from your actions, holding your hips down with both of his hand as he looked at you, frustration all over his face, “(Y/n), are you sure about this? I don’t think I’ll be able to stop once we started.”

Your heart skipped a beat, appreciating his question but you immediately gave him another kiss, this time a bit softer, kissing him deeply, before whispering into his ears. “Don’t you dare to stop now, Taehyung.”

You could hear his chuckle, his breath on your neck giving you goosebumps. “Thank god,” he said before lifting you up without warning you, making you scream a bit, afraid he’d let you fall.

“Be careful, you scared me to death,” you laughed as you were being carried towards your bedroom.

“You think I’d let you fall?” he said amused, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you countered, making him laugh as he arrived in your bedroom, letting you down on top of your bed - now you were under him, lying down as he was still sitting on his knees, taking in the view of your naked upper body right in front of him, for him only.

You did the same - and what a beautiful view it was. He was hovering over you, your legs between his as he was pulling his top over his head, throwing it away before unbuckling his belt as you were running your hand over his toned chest.

Not long until both of you were only left in your underwear. Taehyung slowly removed your pants, before coming back up to you, supporting himself on his elbows as he gave you a deep kiss, adding tongue and caressing your cheek before looking at you. You couldn’t help but smile.

Taehyung gave you a small smile back, his eyes soft, “I love that smile.”

Before you could think about his compliment, one that he never gave you before, before you could get flustered or say anything back he suddenly changed the game completely, fastly pulling your underwear to the side and sliding one finger inside of you while his thumb was rubbing circles against your clit.

Taken aback by his sudden actions, you let out a loud moan, almost a scream, making Taehyungg smirk a bit before his lips wandered down to your neck once again, taking his time with you as he pumped his finger in and out in just the right rhythm. You moved your hip into his movements as his lips kissed down to your chest, his free hand holding your breast while his mouth teasingly played with your nipple, licking it and twirling his tongue around it, making you a moaning mess already.

Your hand was lightly stroking his dick through his boxers, leaving you wanting more. God, the things you wanted him to do with you were unholy.

The way he glanced at you as he was kissing his way down to your core looked like living art. Your whole body wanted him so bad, just the thought of where his mouth would travel to next or how it would feel when you’d finally feel him inside of you was making you go insane. Never before have you wanted something as much and at the same time hoped he’d take his time before.

Arriving at his destination he let out a moan, definitely being into all of this a bit too much too. He started to slowly kiss your inner thighs, holding your legs up a bit, teasing every part around where you wanted him the most.

“Stop teasing,” you whined, wanting him so much more than you currently had.

He chuckled against your core, the warm air making you flinch, “I thought that’s our thing,” before licking along your wet folds and then adding another finger, his tongue giving all its attention to your clit.

The pace in that he was going down on you was making your knees feel weak. He looked so handsome, his forehead in wrinkles as he was concentrating on pleasing you completely, moans vibrating against you.

It didn’t take long for the two of you until you were having sex, the two of you completely concentrating on the sensational feeling for the next moments.

After you finished you laid down on your stomach, not able to really move, as Taehyung let himself fall right next to you, giving your nose a small peck. He was not only out of breath but also still in trance of what had just happened, “I didn’t expect this,” he breathed, calming down from his orgasm.

You giggled a bit, “What? Us having sex?”

The smile he gave you made your heart race like crazy, his messy hair falling into his eyes, “I’m not complaining though.”

For a second you were lying there, letting Taehyung catch his breath and calming down. You felt your legs shaking from the intercourse you just had.

“Feel my legs,” you ordered chuckling, his hand on your thigh in a second as he felt how much you were shaking.

“Glad you liked it,” he laughed before getting up, “I’ll get you a towel, be right back.”

As you were waiting for him to come back you realized what had just happened. After all the flirting and teasing Taehyung and you actually ended up in your bed. The thought made you dizzy, but it could also be from the alcohol you drank. It seemed too good to be true.

Cleaning you up, you suddenly heard a laugh as he grabbed your ass, “I may or may not have left some marks. I’m sorry.”

You turned you head back, squinting your eyes at him, “You’re lucky no one else sees that part of me. The others would tease me to death about that.”

Slowly, he climbed back up to lay next to you, both of you on your stomach, his hand caressing your side, “Apparently they have a bet going on about when we’re going to end up together.”

“I’m not even surprised. Sounds like them,” you closed your eyes, enjoying Taehyung’s affection, “This feels nice.”

He hummed in agreement before giving you a small kiss, his forehead resting next to yours, “I could stay like this forever.”

“Then stay,” you offered, still not opening your eyes. Taehyung was getting a blanket, throwing it over both of you so you wouldn’t freeze, “Don’t leave. Stay here.”

“You want me to?” he asked, his hand now playing with your hair, “Alright, I’ll stay then. Sleep a bit, it’s late and you’re drunk.”

“I will, just give me one more kiss, okay?” you asked him, feeling yourself getting more tired by any passing second.

He chuckled as he came closer to your face once again, holding your face in his hands as he softly pressed his lips onto yours one more time, your naked bodies touching. “Good night, (y/n).”

Falling asleep, everything seemed too good to be true. Taehyung beside you, his scent in your nose as you slowly drifted to sleep in his arms.

As you woke up he was gone. First, you thought you had dreamed about yesterday's events but after a few seconds, you realized that it wasn’t a dream. You got drunk, you had sex, you fell asleep next to him. And now, he was gone.

Standing up, you wrapped your blanket around your naked body, looking for the man that you spend the night with but he was nowhere to be seen.

Well, maybe it was too good to be true.

It’s been five days. Five days since you shared your bed with Taehyung. Five days and your goddamn sheets still smelled like him – or maybe you were hallucinating at this point, wanting just something that reminds you of him around you.

The two of you talked to each other casually when you met on the farm. You said hello and talked about the weather. Shared awkward smiles. And that was about it. It’s not like he was cold to you or anything, he seemed to feel just as helpless and awkward about your drunk night together as you. As much as you loved the night and what happened, you definitely hated the aftermath.

Talking to Yoongi about it didn’t help, sadly. While you appreciate that he always listens to you and is ready to give you advice at any given time, you still had hoped that he’d suggest something else than to give him a bit of time.

The current tension between you was even worse than the sexual tension between you before. You didn’t care if you and Taehyung wouldn’t end up as a couple, of course, you’d like that very much and still hoped that things were going into that direction, but the two of you developed too much to just destroy the nice friendship you built because of feelings getting in the way.

So you decided to visit him that afternoon, feeling anxious as you were walking up the front porch of your neighbors. You barely remember how their house looked like from the inside since it’s been so long since you been inside. The front door stood open and you knocked against it, not wanting to be rude.

“Mrs. Kim?” you called for her as you slowly stepped inside, looking if you could find her but there was no sign of her being home.

Walking up the stairs, you tried to remember which room belonged to Taehyung until you were distracted by something odd and unexpected – suddenly your ears were filled with a beautiful but rather sad piano melody coming from the room on the back of the corridor.

Curious, your feet walked towards the source of the sound, your heart suddenly felt heavy, the sad melody immediately managed to impact your mood, making you feel blue. A part of you wanted to turn around and leave Taehyung alone, just like he probably wanted you to – if you figured out one thing about him over the last few months than it was the fact that this man was a complicated person, hard to read and even harder to talk to, but you decided to accept that. There were only two options: Either you’d work it out with him or you wouldn’t.

You stood in the open door, looking at the back of the man your heart wanted so bad, sitting in front of a big, wooden piano – for a second you couldn’t even believe that he was able to play such a heart touching piece of art, sitting in his room all alone. What a waste it was for him to play all alone, with no one around to hear. It made your heart sting for a second, at this point you liked him too much to go back. Just looking at him being at peace was making you crave to be the woman beside him. After all, he was Kim Taehyung, the one man that managed to surprise you over and over again.

As quiet as possible you walked into the tidy and light room, not wanting to give him a heart attack by creeping up on him but also not wanting him to stop playing. It was a beautiful sight, the way his hands were gliding on the big instrument so smooth and without thinking. You couldn’t see his face yet but you were already swooning over how beautiful he looked.

He looked over his shoulders as you cleared your throat, continuing to play even without paying attention to the keys, giving you an unreadable smile. You sat down on his bed that was placed right beside the piano as he stopped playing.

“Didn’t expect you to come visit me if I am honest,“ Taehyung admitted, almost sounding shy. He seemed to be a bit uncomfortable, knowing exactly that he finally had to face the night you shared a few days ago.

“Well, I didn’t expect you to be able to play the piano so skillfully but yet, here you are, doing exactly that,“ you countered in a soft tone, not wanting him to feel like you were mad at him, “That sounded beautiful.”

He chuckled and you were happy to see him relax a bit, “You think so? It was rather depressing, wasn't it?”

“Matching your mood?” you dared to ask him carefully, trying to address the whole situation somehow.

He stood up from his chair and walked over to you, sitting down next to you on his bed, “It’s my dad’s birthday today. He taught me the song I just played.”

His voice was full of love while talking about his father but you could hear the hidden sadness behind it. You didn’t know about that and suddenly, you felt guilt rushing over you. While you were wondering why he didn't try to solve the obvious problem between you and him he had something way harder to deal with. Looking up at you, he forced a small smile, “Mum and Olli are visiting his grave but I didn’t feel like going.”

Trying to give him any kind of comfort you nodded, pressing your lips into a thin line. You were surprised that he was opening up to you but as sad as the situation was, it was relieving you that he finally talked to someone about it. According to Jimin and Yoongi he tried to avoid this topic as much as he could.

“Why did you stay here?” you asked him, trying to keep the conversation going and show him your support. What you didn’t want was overwhelm him with questions, so you slowly started to see how comfortable he was around you.

He shrugged, looking up at the ceiling, “It’s such a sad place. I feel like we shouldn’t be sad on his birthday, if that makes sense. We should eat his favorite food and drink a beer and stay up too long, playing guitar on the porch. Mum and Dad always sneaked out at night on his birthday, taking drunk walks. They thought I didn’t notice but they were always coming back, laughing loudly. I miss celebrating his birthdays. But it’s hard to be happy on his birthday without him here.”

He laid down on his bed, his head right next to where you were currently sitting. You studied his face, his eyes still glued to the ceiling, not daring to look at you, the woman he hurt by leaving her after having sex with her. The sun outside was setting, leaving Taehyung’s whole room in a golden light, his tan skin was glowing and his light-brown hair shimmering.

While he seemed to be sad on the outside you could see that talking about the memories he made with his father was making him feel lighter. It was nice seeing him talking about his dad - they always have been very close, you still could recall that.

“I still remember him so vividly. He always gifted me self-made jam before I left the city and no other jam, literally not a single one at home was comparable to his,“ you shared your memory with Taehyung, looking out of the big window in his room, admiring the sun, “He has a beautiful soul.”

When you came over you wouldn't have expected to talk to Taehyung about his father but you knew that everything else, every problem and unsolved question, between the two of you could wait for now.

“I wish I was more like him,“ his voice was nothing more than a mumble, almost inaudible. The sudden craving to hold him came over you, to comfort him in your arms, to kiss him until he felt better. But you held back, as long as you didn’t talk about the obvious.

“What do you mean?” you asked him, daring to lay down beside him – luckily, he didn’t seem to mind. The two of you didn’t touch or cuddled, you just were lying there, on his bed, having a serious and meaningful conversation.

“He was so kind and positive. He told my mother different reasons why he loved her every night. Even after a long day of work he still took his time and practiced the piano with me every night and then brought Olli to bed, reading him a good night story or playing him songs on the guitar until he fell asleep. He taught me so much but still, I could never be so full of love like he used to be.”

“You think too low of yourself, Tae,“ you said determined, meaning it, “I don’t think you see how much your mother appreciates everything you do for her. She knows that you didn’t plan out your life like this but you’re staying here for her. And Olli looks up to you so much, you could do nothing to let him down.”

He shrugged, looking at you for a second, “I don’t feel like that’s enough.”

Feeling heartbroken about hearing him talk so bad about himself, your hand found his in between the two of you, linking it with yours, now it was you who didn't dare to look into his eyes, “Look at us then.”

“What do you mean?” he asked you, confused.

“Since I moved here you gave me so much joy and helped me everywhere you could. You have no idea how much I appreciate all the things you’ve done for me since I came here, complicated tensions between us or not,“ you meant every word.

He scoffed lightly, “I attacked you on your first day, made you churn butter and let you fall into the lake in the middle of the night on your birthday.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his words, “Well, yes. And I could still kill you for all of those things. But,“ you started, turning your body towards him to look into his eyes, “You also helped me calm the cows during the storm. You gave me the most meaningful birthday present I could’ve thought of. You brought me a basket full of my favorite fruits even though you still deny that you did-”

He let out a soft chuckle before interrupting you, “That wasn’t me,“ he insisted once again with a grin on his face.

“Sure, Kim,“ you rolled your eyes at him picking up this discussion again, “You might think you’re being cold but you’re not at all.”

Now he turned to face you too, both of you lying on the side, looking in each other’s eyes. His brows narrowed as he tried to say something to you, the expression in his eyes seemed to be hurt, maybe even guilty.

A heavy sigh came from his lips before he closed his eyes, “I just left you. That morning. I just got up and left.”

Those words made you freeze. After all, you came here to talk about exactly that but it seemed so wrong right now, “We don’t have to talk abou-”

“I just left,“ he repeated, seeming disappointed with himself, “I never just left someone after having sex with them. There were people that meant way less to me and I still stayed the morning after. I am being a complete asshole to you all the time and still, you don’t hate me. You’re here, trying to make sure I’m okay.”

Keeping quiet was the only thing you could do at that moment. Taehyungs words seemed harsh but the tone in his voice sounded guilty. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t say anything – you had no idea what Taehyung was trying to say.

“Tae,“ you finally started after a few seconds, his full attention on you, “This day is hard enough for you already. We don’t have to talk about that right now. I’m not mad at you.”

“You should be though. I know, I am pretty amazing but not even such a godlike man like me shouldn’t treat you like this,“ he joked but both of you knew it was his way of comprehending because he didn’t know how to handle the conversation you were about to have since he always struggled to talk about his feelings, especially sober.

“Why did you leave then?” you asked him the one question you asked yourself over and over again. There could have been millions of options in your mind. Maybe, he regretted it and it was just a drunk mistake. Maybe, the feelings you thought he had for you were just sexually. Maybe, he simply had to go and do something early in the morning. So many maybes that have gone through your head without any idea if any of those maybe’s were right.

“I don’t know. I wish I didn’t,“ he bit his lip nervously, not looking into your eyes anymore, afraid to see your reaction, “Maybe I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” you asked, not sure if you actually wanted to know the answer. You felt many emotions when it came to him. You felt happiness, joy, hope, possibly love. On other days you felt powerless, insecure and confused. What you never felt was being afraid. Pretty sure, you actually felt safe around him.

“I’m not as flawless and strong as I constantly try to convince you I am,“ he sighed, pressing his lips into a straight line, “I couldn’t stand to hurt you because of my own problems. But I still did.”

Slowly you nodded as your heart was sinking deeper and deeper in your stomach, “You’ve got to talk to me. What are you thinking about?”

Taehyung hated this probably even more than you did. He was good in so many things – he was a good friend, a better brother and the best son. He was an amazing cook and apparently, an amazing piano player. He could flirt like no tomorrow and crack jokes around his friends that would make everyone laugh. He could drink a lot and he could make your heart beat faster.

There were countless things he was able to be and to do without any problem. But when it came to talking about his feelings and showing his vulnerable side he failed. You knew that just as good as everyone else but if he wouldn’t talk, you couldn’t continue to work on your relationship.

“I–“ he started but stopped, looking at you sternly while clenching his jaw a bit. His eyebrows furrowed and his expression looked almost pained, trying to find the right words, “I think that I loved the night with you. I did, really. But maybe, it was a bit thoughtless of us.”

“So, what you’re trying to say is that you regret it,“ you stated, trying to just get this conversation over with, hoping he couldn’t see or hear that you felt like he just put a knife in your stomach.

„God, no,“ his answer bursted out of him like a bullet before he started mumbling to himself, „I am truly terrible at this.“

You gave him a few seconds to gather his thoughts even though the silence was deafening. This wasn't how you expected to spend your first time in Taehyung's bed at all.

„I like you, (y/n),“ he then spoke, determined, „Obviously I do. And I think you like me too, or at least I hope you do. But we were drunk and desperate when we had sex and I wanted it to be special.“

You couldn't help but pout at his helpless confession, adoring him even more than before. Within seconds all of your doubts vanished – as long as Taehyung liked you too you would find a way to work everything out. Trying not to let your overflowing happiness show, you gave him a small smirk, „You thought about us having sex?“

Luckily, his body relaxed too, an annoyed smile appearing on his handsome face, „All the time,“ he scrunched his nose, his arm wrapping itself around your waist.

„So, what you're saying is that you ignored me for days because you didn't like the way it happened?“ you asked him, coming back to the actual topic.

Frowning, he sighed, „When you put it like this it sounds stupid.“

„Because it is,“ you insisted, squinting your eyes at him, „I thought you avoided me because you hated me or something like that.“

„I'm so sorry,“ he apologized again, his face coming closer to yours, „Apparently, I'm very bad at this.“

„So, what are we doing now?“ you asked him, feeling a bit anxious even though Taehyung just told you that he liked you too, so you had nothing to worry about.

„First, I want to kiss you if you're fine with that,“ his fingers were drawing little patterns on your waist, „and then I'd like us to become something serious.“

Nodding, you did as he asked and gave him a kiss, his soft lips feeling just as good, if not better, as you remembered them. You felt something like butterflies in your stomach and you thought that Taehyung would probably make fun of you if he knew how jolly he made you feel.

Breaking from the kiss, the most handsome man you've ever seen stared you down for a second, not saying anything.

„We should celebrate,“ he suddenly suggested.

„What do you have in mind?“ you asked him curiously, not once escaping his gaze.

„Let me take you out to dinner,“ his voice was sweet as honey and you were sure you never heard him talk in such a soft tone – it might be the rest of guilt he still felt towards you or the fact that now you officially knew about each other's feelings but you could get used to it. You wanted to get used to it.

„Right now?“ you asked him, wondering if it would be okay considering it was his father's birthday.

„I don't wanna wait a second longer,“ he smirked at his own cheesiness, getting out of his bed to get ready to go.

You joined him, „Stop being so loving. God, where did my cynical Taehyung go?“

Rolling his eyes, he chuckled as he wrapped his arm around your waist, walking down the hallway with you. „This changes nothing,“ he gestured between the two of you, „You're still terribly annoying even if we're together now.“

„I could get used to the sound of that,“ you scrunched your nose as your eyes met before you repeated his words, „We're together now.“

Even though he tried to hide it, he was just as excited about the label as you were. You could feel it in the way he touched you and the sparkle in his eyes gave him away.

A few minutes later you were sitting outside of the restaurant in the heart of your city, the marketplace was pretty quiet as it slowly got dark outside, a candle lit on your table.

The owner of the restaurant greeted you, raising his eyebrow and smirking as he saw the two of you together. „Oh, what a nice sight to see the two of you here together. Is this a date by any chance?“

You let Taehyung answer, not knowing if he was okay with telling people yet.

„It's still a secret so you have to keep quiet, please,“ he answered with a proud smile on his lips and you could swear his chest was sticking out a bit.

„What a pretty couple,“ he sang as he went back inside, giving you a bit of time to read the menu and decide on what to eat.

Even though it was almost autumn it was still warm outside – you loved those kind of late summer evenings. Without even having a single sip of alcohol you felt almost tipsy, the man opposite of you making you feel all light and smitten.

„This is the downside of living in such a small town,“ Taehyung started, his skin glowing in the candlelight, „We have zero privacy.“

„I don't mind,“ you shrugged, „They're going to find out sooner or later. It's the charm of towns like ours.“

„I just would like to take you out on a date every now and then without one of the guys crashing it because they see us,“ he explained, „But you're right, it's not as bad here as I make it out to be.“

He took your hand that was resting on the table, caressing it with his thumb. Every touch you two shared make you shiver in anticipation for more. Even though you already knew you were head over heels for him you felt yourself falling deeper every time you touched.

Time went by way too fast for your liking and before you knew it you two had your dinner, your dessert and even some drinks afterwards. The atmosphere was light, both of you enjoying each other's company after not talking for some days.

„I don't want this night to end just yet,“ you pouted. Before you dared to take his hands you glanced around to see if Jimin was anywhere to be seen, not wanting him to disturb your peace.

Your new boyfriend, still a weird thought to call him that, nodded, „I can stay if you want to.“

Before you could say anything he fastly added, „I don't have to though. It's your decision. I can leave too.“

You gave him a weird glance, „You're acting like this would be a first for us.“

Not saying anything he almost froze in front of you, fidgeting with his hands, staring at your door. For a few seconds you mustered him, waiting if he'd say something but nothing came out of his mouth, which was pretty unusual for him.

„Oh god, you're nervous!“ your grin was a mile wide and you clapped your hands amused, „Kim Taehyung is nervous because of me. I can't wait to tell my diary about this.“

Frustration was written all over his face as he closed his eyes as if he couldn't believe himself. „Your diary must be full of my name,“ he mumbled under his breath before looking at you again, the satisfied smile on your face provoking him, „Stop making fun of me.“

As you were searching for your keys in your back he hugged you from behind, pressing a kiss against your hair, “Let’s drink some beer and watch a movie.”

Nodding, you stole a quick kiss from his lips and opened the door, letting the both of you in.

“I’m going to get a blanket,” you informed him, “Get some beers, I’ll meet you in the couch in a minute.

„What do you wanna watch?“ he asked you a few moments later, one leg bent while the other one was spread out on your sofa, his arm spread on the back of it, just waiting for you to join him.

The sight of him comfortably sitting on your sofa gave you the most domestic feeling you've felt in a long time – he seemed to look even better than before somehow.

„Let's watch an animal documentation,“ you responded, sitting down next to him. The blanket you brought from your bedroom spread over the two of you, you dared to cuddle yourself up to him and he seemed to enjoy it as much as you, giving your head a quick kiss, your face resting on his chest.

„You're weird,“ he muttered, „Let's watch a horror movie instead.“

Giving him an unimpressed glance, you sighed, „How cliche.“

You could feel his chuckle going through his chest, „At least it would give me a reason to stay for the night.“

Rolling your eyes, you looked up at him, his glance already on you, „Why? Because you're too afraid of horror movies? Because I am certainly not.“

„I have such a brave girlfriend,“ he acknowledged in a sarcastic tone while opening two beers, handing you one, „Here's to us, babe.“

Clinking your bottles, you took a sip of your beer, „So, you're a babe kind of guy? Wouldn't have thought that.“

„I can call you asshole if you prefer that,“ he said seriously before starting to laugh at his own joke once again.

And with that, the rest of the evening was just as perfect as the first part. It was just you, Taehyung, some beers and Netflix. Every now and then you shared kisses, sometimes those kisses were a bit more passionate and longer, turning into full make-out sessions before Taehyung started to whine because he missed the plot of the movie you were watching.

“God, I’m so happy,” he told you softly as you were slowly falling asleep in his arms, relaxing completely under his touch, “I wanted this for so long.”

You and Taehyung managed to keep your relationship a secret for about two weeks. It took you only two short weeks to decide that it didn’t make any sense to keep it from them. Not only were both of you pretty sure that the relationship between you was serious but also, like always, none of your friends stopped their teasing, making it difficult to stay hidden because their eyes were always on you.

“We have to tell them,” your boyfriend looked at you, “It’s a miracle they didn’t find out yet.”

You chuckled, wrapping your legs around his, “I guess you’re right. But they are going to be so nosey about it. I hate it already.”

It was a late summer Saturday evening, probably one of the lasts warm days for this year and Yoongi decided to gather your friends and your family together for one last barbecue.

Walking outside, you linked your arm with Taehyung’s, something you’ve never done before in front of other people. A part of you almost felt nervous to let the rest know.

“You’re ready?” he asked you, giving you a small wink as you walked towards the big table next to the barbecue grill. Your families were already sitting down on the big table while Yoongi and Hoseok were struggling to get the barbecue grill to work. It was a beautiful evening, the sun was still high but was about to sink, the warm summer breeze felt refreshing and the big table in the garden was full of drinks and food, from meat to salads to bread to vegetables. Yoongi’s parents were there too, currently mixing some cocktails.

Jimin was the first to spot the two of you walking out of your cottage, giving you a confused glance, his eyebrows narrowed. He stopped telling the other a story he was in the middle of, wondering about the sudden skinship. Immediately, everyone turned their heads to where he was looking, wondering what made Jimin speechless.

As you arrived you said nothing, waiting for anyone to say something.

Yoongi looked at you with a big grin on his face. “What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, pointing onto your linked arms.

“You are fucking with us, aren’t you?”, your cousin asked suspiciously, “Ha Ha. Very funny.”

“No, for once I’m serious,” you replied, amused because he didn’t believe you, “Are you really surprised?”

Mrs. Kim and your uncle looked at each other, a smile on their faces.

“Taehyung, are you serious? You can’t trick your old mother like this, don’t make me excited for something that isn’t true.”

Taehyung chuckled at his mother, nodding, “Don’t worry, mum. I’d never lie to you.”

Jimin still didn’t seem to believe you, “If you’re not kidding you gotta kiss,” he insisted with a sly smirk, thinking that he exposed you now.

You looked at Tae, giving him a questioning glance, not knowing if he’d be comfortable kissing you in front of everyone. But he didn’t seem to care and just shook his head amused before he came closer to give you a short, but still very adorable, kiss on your lips, his arm now around your waist, before turning to Jimin, who looked like he was about to faint.

“Who do you think you are just dating my cousin without asking me for permission?” he yelled angrily, getting ready to fight Taehyung.

You, Yoongi and Hoseok started to laugh out loud as Jimin started to chase after Taehyung.

Sitting down on the table right next to Yoongi’s seat he pinched your cheeks lightly, “Congratulations, finally trapped him, huh?”

You nodded, “Was about time. I was slowly going insane.”

“In a more peaceful minute, you need to tell me all about how it happened, alright?” your best friend said with a satisfied smile on his lips, “And don’t forget me now that you’re in love.”

“How could I ever?” you promised, laughing as Taehyung came back to the table, out of breath from running away from Jimin.

“Your cousin is crazy, (y/n),” he breathed heavily, shaking his head, “Maybe I have to reconsider becoming part of your family.”

“Well, too late now,“ you shrugged as Jimin joined the table again too, a goofy smile on his face as he turned to you.

“So, I assume I can’t try to set you up with Jungkook anymore, right?” he joked, sitting back down on his chair and opening two cans of beer, one for himself and the other one for you.

„You better watch your mouth,“ your boyfriend warned Jimin, giving him a warning glance.

A few hours later, the sky was pitch-black by now and the stars sparkling, you noticed that Taehyung was gone for quite some time now and decided to go check up on him - you saw him going to the barn earlier.

As you walked over to Taehyung he already noticed you but didn’t look at you yet. Instead, you only saw his back as he was busy giving Bertha some kisses.

“Oh no, don’t worry, Bertha,“ he talked to her, “You’re still my favorite cow, just don’t tell (y/n).”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing, “You’re trying to make me jealous?”

He turned around, acting as if he didn’t realize you coming on, “Oh no, (y/n),“ his voice was mocking, “You shouldn’t have seen this, I can explain, I promise.”

Laughing at his own joke, he came over to you and put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. Trying to give you a kiss, you freed yourself from his grip, giving him the cold shoulder.

“No, go and kiss Bertha, if you love her so much,“ you huffed and held your chin up high, trying to stay serious but Taehyung wasn’t having it. Within seconds his arms were wrapped around you once again, now tighter than before so you couldn’t escape if you wanted.

Pulling you into a hug, he locked his eyes with you, a joyful smile on his still so beautiful lips, “You’re so annoying.”

Scoffing, you avoided his eyes, still playing hard to get, „I thought we're over the whole 'you're annoying me' phase.“

„Actually, each time I told you that you're annoying I fell in love with you a bit more,“ your boyfriend confessed, still hugging you tightly before smirking, „But you still were a pain in the ass.“

You gave him a quick and small kiss before resting your forehead against his, “I want to spend the rest of my life annoying you.”

He let out a small laugh, his eyes closed. “Oh, that’s good,“ suddenly he picked you up, giving you no other chance as to hold onto him, your legs around his waist as he was holding you up, his arms tightly around your waist, “Because I want to spend the rest of my annoying life with you.”

#bts #taehyung #taehyung imagine #taehyung scenario #taehyung smut #taehyung au #jungkook #jimin #namjoon #hoseok #yoongi #seokjin #bts imagines #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic

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rosesradio · 2 years ago

Note

Despite liking the newest Sander Sides video I'm still a bit disappointed in it. 1: Its been 9 months since the last proper one, 2: The last one being the 5 year anniversary was just filler. 3: It was an Advertisement. 4: I'm starting to get over the whole Depression Arc, like its okay to have conflict but with everyone just being awful to one another for several videos spanning years is making me depressed. Like there is very little progress being made here. Last but not least: No Janus.

wow, my first non-anon in a minute. saying something with your name attached and everything. what's up 💅

this might get a bit lengthy...i'm not sorry & i have no shame haha--

i...wasn't a fan of the new video tbh, for nostalgia reasons it was nice to see the guys again, though it felt stale and repetitive. i'm sure you've heard...and i'll probably say more than wanted lol

it seems to me that the last almost half a dozen videos have been fillers. i mean, it's almost worse than when i was posting fics to wattpad at 14, posting a chapter, three author's notes, then another chapter six months later 😭

literally, when we backtrack we have:

1.) the plush ad

2.) the gavin sides (nothing wrong with gavin though the vid was really cute)

3.) bloopers

4.) the five year anniversary

5.) bloopers

and then, finally, working through intrusive thoughts, which came out a little over a year ago. that was the last legitimate sanders sides video in my eyes, at least. the others may have had more plot hints, but that was the last one with actual plot that i can remember.

to advertise that advertisement as a legitimate video, to place it in the playlist, is an insult to fans that have been excitedly waiting for content. what thomas & crew should do is take advantage of the asides playlist and put more of this stuff in there (to be honest, they should have three playlists: the actual sanders sides videos (ex: intrusive thoughts), the asides (ex: gavin's sides, the anniversary) and the bullshit sides (ex: any and all overhyped and just-slightly emotionally manipulative advertisements))

but i digress

to address your next point, you are absolutely right. the arc is tiring. seeing characters in constant conflict with no resolution or end in sight makes for terrible fic motivation, trust me. you'd think with all the fillers there would be room to breathe, but it just seems so off-kilter with the original content that it seems fabricated.

i wonder what the finale will look like. but that's a whole other can of worms.

no janus.

yeah, no janus and no remus, except for the bit of his hand in one frame. another ts crit user on here went into a bit of discussion on why they may have not included their plushies, and i can link it if you want, but it basically boiled down that they probably only wanna market the "core four" and not any of the "freaky" sides. not quoting from anyone, just a theory.

i'll admit janus and remus scared me a bit as a 14 y/o lol, so i never bothered making or taking in content with them, but for the sake of other fans, i wish they were included too. we've waited long enough

just like you've waited for the end of this ask lol. i think that was all, thank you sm for the ask, i enjoyed breaking this down. until next time <33 (no, we're not gonna take it easy guys gals and enby pals--)

#hopefully this doesn't come across as hate btw it's just crit. i just have more admiration for the fandom atp #sanders sides #ts crit #not tkk #💌

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floralseokjin · 4 years ago

Text

⤑ made-up love song vi (m).

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, smut; basically a montage of the sex they’ve been having during the rest of the summer lol, they can’t keep their hands off one another, seokjin’s mouth gets progressively dirtier as time goes on, he also gets strategic with condom storage, smut includes; 69, face riding, condomless sex, creampie, biting, (light) spanking, there’s cute things too, like arin’s birthday party and oc meeting his parents words; 12,064

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

You spent the whole of Sunday in bed – which you thought was Seokjin’s plan all along, only finding your way downstairs to eat, and even then he couldn’t keep his hands off you for long enough. (Not that you minded.) He was making the most of it, he told you, before he had to leave you for work. That, and he was waving goodbye to his celibacy the right way… Despite your snort, you understood what he meant. You had fun familiarising yourself with the wonders of sex again… Miraculously blessed with an abundance of energy. Although, when it came to Seokjin, how could you even think about resisting him?! You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. And neither could he…

“Mmm. What time is it?” You asked Monday morning, voice heavy with sleep, eyes still closed as you heard Seokjin’s alarm go off. He stirred beside you, sitting up to knock the device off before burrowing back under the covers to wrap his arms around your naked body.

“Half 6,” he grumbled, mouth pressed against the back of your neck. “I don’t want to work.” With one squeeze to his chest, you felt that very obvious erection of his pressed against your ass. “Can’t I just stay here for the rest of the day? Inside you…”

You giggled, attempting to roll over and face him. A hand cupped your cheek instantly, puffy lips finding yours. Morning Seokjin wasn’t good for your heart. His messy hair flopping over his eyes, pillow marks marring his skin, the slight stubble beginning to grow along his top lip… It was all just so… sexy, and now you were wide awake. Still, some teasing couldn’t be helped.

“We literally spent yesterday all day in bed…”

“Yes, and it was amazing,” he declared. “I’d do it all again today.”

You raised an eyebrow, a palm holding him steady at the waist. “All again? You do realise we still have all week to go, right? I wouldn’t want you to fail on me so soon…”

He huffed out a laugh, fingertips ever so cheekily grazing the underside of your right breast. “You underestimate me…” His voice was still gruff from sleep, it made his words ripple through your body, settling between your legs. “I still have 95% of the condoms to use. So,” he grinned, dipping his head to capture your mouth. “You,” – he rolled you onto your back expertly – “better,” – he kissed your throat – “keep,” – then your cleavage – “ up.” His tongue around your nipple had you gasping out immediately, back arching, wanting more.

Spreading your legs, he nestled in between them easily, the muscles of his meaty thighs protruding as he kneeled up slightly. You gripped them urgently, needing to anchor yourself somehow, knowing what was about to come.

His teeth grazed your nipple as he dragged away, lifting his head up to smirk. “What do you say, baby, one for the road?”

Baby. Yesterday he’d become quite partial to that word, learning quite quickly what it did to you, what effect it had on you. (Yes, a curse word – or two, or more – may have slipped out of you yesterday… He’d won, embarrassingly soon.)

You refrained from rolling your eyes, but still told him to shut up. Two minutes later he was buried inside you making you moan out his name.

It wasn’t even 7am.

When Seokjin finally got off to work (after about a bajillion kisses…), you slipped into the shower, attempting to work it without breaking it. With that successful, you wondered downstairs to make some breakfast. It was strange being inside his house alone. You’d arrived to meet him for lunch early a couple of times, yes, but Misook and Arin had always been there ready to greet you. Today it was just you, playing music as loud as you could just to drown out the deafening silence as pottered about in the kitchen. After eating, you washed the dishes (most leftover from yesterday) in the sink, unsure how to set the dishwasher correctly, and wondered to yourself how Seokjin had managed to cope living here alone before Arin moved in…

You busied yourself with unpacking your case, not having a chance to do it yesterday – too preoccupied – while watching the clock. You had a lunch date with Soojung at half 11. You’d managed to text her a brief reply yesterday but other than that you’d been AWOL. You knew it must’ve been killing her. By the time you met up at the food court, she was frothing at the mouth, desperate for all the details, which you gave to her in hushed whispers over a shared thin crust margherita. You didn’t divulge all though, just enough to keep her nosey butt satisfied.

“This is not fair at all,” she whined. “You were getting dilfed the hell down and I was getting farted on by Tae.”

You laughed, wholly impressed. “You’ve turned it into a verb now? Very creative. I’m so glad to have you as a best friend.”

Although, she wasn’t so happy to have you as one when you confessed to telling Seokjin about his plethora of nicknames…

Seokjin came home a little earlier than you’d expected. After lunch with Soo, you’d popped to the local grocery store, picking up a few things for dinner and then you’d sat in front of the television for the afternoon. It wasn’t the most productive day you’d had by any means, but you felt contented, excited to greet Seokjin after his long day at work. You were in the kitchen, beginning to prepare dinner when you heard his voice.

“Honey?” Before you had time to reply, he was calling your name, closer down the hallway. “Y/N? Where are you?”

“Kitchen,” you called back.

You weren’t looking when he entered, back to him, so suddenly you were engulfed in his arms from behind. He held your back to his chest tightly. “Hey,” he murmured, nestling into your neck. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you said with a smile, holding his hands that were around your stomach.

He shook his head, pressing his crotch to your ass. “No, I really missed you.”

“Seokjin,” you hissed in surprise, feeling his erection instantly. You were getting déjà vu. Laughing, you wriggled around, facing him. He already had his tie loosened around his neck, the top two buttons of his shirt free. “Control yourself. You’ve literally just gotten through the door.”

His facial expression looked immediately agonised. “I can’t. You’ve awakened the beast.”

“The beast?” You snorted.

He stared you down. “Yes.” And then he was on you, no time to return his kiss with just as much enthusiasm before he was at your neck, growling playfully. You fell into a fit of giggles, held prisoner by his hands pinned to your hips. “I was – distracted – all – day.” He informed you between tugs of your skin, tongue dutifully swiping where he’d bitten. He repeated. “Couldn’t stop thinking – about you naked – and moaning my – name – while I ate your–”

“Seokjin!” you roared, heat instantly travelling up your face. You swore his mouth was getting dirtier by the hour. It made sense. He was teasing in nature… you just needed some time to get used to it. You would not let him finish that sentence for fear your legs would collapse beneath you.

He broke away and leaned back, pupils so dark you could just about make out the brown of his irises. He panted slightly, lips wet. “Do you want to?”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Right here?” It didn’t practically look like he was about to sweep you up in his arms and dash you up to the bedroom if the urgent grinding of his crotch was anything to go by…

He grinned wolfishly, tilting his head. “Why not?”

“It’s not very sanitary.” You glanced to your left as you spoke, eyeing up the two bell peppers you’d placed on the counter five minutes before Seokjin and his penis had shown up…

You watched in pure disbelief as Seokjin eased back and pulled a square foil packet out of his inner breast pocket. “Why? I have protection.”

“What the hell?” You exclaimed. “Why do you have a condom with you?” He’d gone to work with that in his pocket? Attended meetings? Was he crazy?

“It’s not what it looks like.” He chuckled, looking momentarily bashful. “I just thought… easy access. We never know when we’ll need one.”

Folding your arms, you stared at him. Frustratingly you were unable to keep the corners of your lips from quirking up. “We’ll need one at your office?”

He shrugged casually, a smug smirk on his face. “Who knows. I’m a man of very many fantasies…”

Oh, my god. Unbelievable. But you couldn’t pretend that his words weren’t having an effect on you, nor that the office fantasy didn’t sound hot… You stepped forward, hooking your fingers between his belt and slacks, pulling him forward – which was easy because he was caught off guard. “Enough small talk. Are you going to fuck me in your CEO suit, or what?”

He composed himself expertly, hands reaching for your waist as he leaned in. “First of all, hearing you curse will never not completely obliterate me, and second of all…” He paused to grin, so full of himself it was unbelievable. “You want me to fuck you in my suit?”

“Uh huh.” You nodded, tugging on his tie.

And fuck you in his suit he did, spread on the counter, your tank top yanked down so he could watch your breasts bounce as he pounded into you…

You spent the Tuesday in his home office, making the most out of idle time to lesson plan for your new class come September. You facetimed Soojung (who tried her best to get you to give her a house tour) and then ended up sunbathing with a book for an hour or so outside. After Seokjin came home he called Arin, asking her what she’d been up to so far and if she was having fun. Despite how much he was enjoying your company you could tell he was missing his daughter, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you with words. You sympathised with him, it must have been weird not having her around.

Unsure what to do for dinner, Seokjin suggested making a last minute dinner reservation. That sounded fine by you, too lazy to think of preparing something tonight, so off you went upstairs to get ready, but of course, Seokjin found ways of distracting you… (You were thirty minutes late for dinner.)

The days were passing by quickly, and you could quite honestly say the week with Seokjin was bliss – and not just because of all of the sex. Although, it did play a very big role… It was the little things that meant the most, such as grocery shopping on the Wednesday afternoon. Generously, Seokjin had used two of his vacation days for the end of the week, saving the others he was due in the summer to spend with Arin for her birthday at the end of next month. He’d arrived home early on the Wednesday afternoon, informing you he would be making dinner tonight and as silly as it sounded, walking around the store while Seokjin pushed the cart was one of the sweetest activities you’d shared together. The domesticity of it made your whole day, but the pasta dish he prepared later that night almost ruined it. His seasoning quantities were a little off, shall we say, all those years out of practice, so it turned out he was a danger with those chilli flakes. However, the coughing fit you both had after the first bite made for great entertainment… You didn’t know whether you were crying with laughter or because your throat was on fire…

The next day, as great as staying in bed and having sex all day sounded, Seokjin wanted to take you out and spend some time together as a couple. You were left to decide what you wanted to do, and of course you chose shopping. A new mall had recently opened up about an hour away and because you were so nervy on highways, you hadn’t had a chance to go yet. Seokjin was more than happy to take you, and kindly enough he did spoil you a bit that day. Usually you wouldn’t allow it (he’d tried it in the past), but there was no harm with once in a blue moon, was there? Besides, he got great use out of a few of the gifts too… One being the black skimpy laced lingerie he’d picked out… (The panties had an open crotch…) That evening you shared a bath and a bottle of champagne before you’d given him a very indulgent fashion show…

On Friday, you prepared a picnic and went hiking, which left Seokjin with an incredibly (and comically) red nose even though he’d applied sunscreen. You spent the afternoon cuddling in front of the television, making the most out of your last day alone together. Truthfully, you felt a little sad at the prospect of tomorrow. You missed Arin too and couldn’t wait to see her but spending your days so intimately and lovingly with Seokjin had been amazing. You told him just as much gone midnight, wrapped up in his arms and bedsheets, head pressed against his sheened chest as you listened to his heartbeat slowly even out. This week had made you fall for him harder – if possible – and you were sad it was ending, but just so excited this was only the beginning… He kissed you long and hard, agreeing wholeheartedly, words unneeded.

Arin was due back early afternoon, so you and Seokjin shared breakfast together before you packed up your things. He clung to you the entire time, sighing every time you folded up an item of clothing and placed it in your case.

“How will I function without having sex with you every morning?” He bemoaned after one particularly loud unhappy exhale.

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” you laughed. He was unbelievable. And whiney. But then again, so were you…

Stood beside your car an hour later, saying your goodbyes, you hugged him tight. “I’m going to miss youuu.” How were you expected to sleep alone tonight?! It wasn’t fair.

It was now Seokjin’s turn to chuckle at your ridiculousness. “I’m not going anywhere.” He assured, cupping the back of your head as you pulled back to look at him. His expression softened instantly. “But I feel the same.” Kissing your nose, he smiled. “You know that you can spend the night here anytime you want though, right?”

You held out until Monday. You wanted to give Arin some time alone with Seokjin after her week away, you bet she’d missed her father like crazy, but apparently she’d missed you too… Seokjin called you while he was at work – his second call of the day. (His first had been at six o’clock this morning, waking you up to let you know he (and his dick) missed you.) Arin had asked him to ask you if you wanted to come over tonight for an impromptu movie night. You were touched to say the least. You let Seokjin know you’d be there 6pm on the dot with snacks at hand. He told you to bring an overnight bag…

Having sex with Arin under the same roof took some time to get used to. The first time was so hilarious looking back. It was 1am, time was ticking on and Seokjin had to be awake in under six hours, Arin was long asleep – and across the hall! Yet still you were both anxious fools, listening out for the slightest of noises just in case the unthinkable happened. Not that it would have, Seokjin knew Arin was a heavy sleeper so there was little chance of her barging in… but it still didn’t stop him from whispering “What was that?” every five minutes, eyes pulled wide like a deer caught in headlights.

It definitely got easier though, and soon movie nights became a regular thing as the last weeks of summer rolled by. You had a routine; one movie of Arin’s choice and then it was her bedtime, and then if Seokjin and you felt like it, you’d choose a movie yourselves to watch. Tonight was a Saturday, so after Enchanted had finished and Seokjin put Arin to bed, you decided to watch something too seeing as he didn’t have work the next morning.

Halfway in, however, you were getting distracted… Your hand sneaking inside the blanket you had wrapped around the both of you to run up and down Seokjin’s thigh. This week had been an odd one. Your boyfriend had been super busy with work and you’d missed him – obviously. You’d done well to keep your hands off him for this long, now you were finally caving…

“I guess this movie is boring?” Seokjin whispered into the darkness, face lit up with a blue glow. His eyes sparkled as your gazes met, your palm hovering over his crotch. He lifted his hips a touch, brushing against you.

“No,” you grinned, leaning in to kiss him. “You’re just more interesting…”

He chuckled against your lips. “I definitely agree with that.”

Groaning, you went to lift your hand away but he snatched it back, pressing you into him, encouraging you to rub. With your tongues entwined, you soon felt his erection stirring, cock stiffening under his sweats.

It was a wonder you both heard the creak of the wooden floorboards in the hallway – but thankfully you did. Movements stilling, you pulled back. Eyes wide in question, you mouthed, “What was that?”

You both listened out for another noise, hearing the tell-tale sound of footsteps walking towards the movie room. “Arin,” Seokjin breathed, and just like that the moment was over. You broke apart, Seokjin rearranging his junk expertly (a round of applause) before he stood up.

On cue, a tiny voice sounded from behind the door. “Daddy?”

“Arin, sweetie, what is it?” He asked, walking over to pull it open.

Arin was stood there, looking perfectly wide awake hugging her rabbit plush. “I can’t get to sleep.”

“And why’s that?” Seokjin asked.

She ignored him completely, walking into the room. “What are you watching?”

“A grown-ups movie,” he replied, sounding amused. “Come on, let me take you back upstairs. Say goodnight to Y/N again.”

Arin whined loudly, turning to her dad. “But I can’t sleeeep!”

“Maybe she can stay up for a little while?” You suggested, looking over at Seokjin before you turned your attention to Arin. “Until you’re tired, hm, Arin?”

Her face lit up immediately. “I think that’s a great idea, Y/N.”

You laughed and Seokjin wasn’t close behind, bending down to squeeze Arin’s sides, playfully causing her to squeal. “Do you, little miss?” You met Seokjin’s gaze, both of you coming to terms with the fact your moment had been well and truly ruined. It was fine… You had later on tonight…

“It’s the weekend, she can stay up a little later than normal, no?” You asked with a smile.

“Fine,” he mock sighed, pretending to only give in right now.

Arin cheered in victory, rushing over to sit next to you on the sofa, cuddling in immediately. She had gotten what she’d came downstairs for. You wrapped your arm around her shoulders, an action that had become more than normal these past couple of weeks. The more time you spent here, the closer you had become. You were no longer the teacher who had started dating her father. You were now his girlfriend, someone she saw regularly, someone she could laugh and joke around with. Someone she felt comfortable around, and vice versa. You were Y/N. Just as your relationship with Seokjin was growing and developing on the daily, so was your relationship with Arin. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Arin looked up at her father and grinned. “Can we watch another Disney movie, Daddy?”

As it happened, Arin didn’t last an hour before she was fast asleep between you both, softly snoring, her bunny fallen forgotten to her side. Deciding to head upstairs too, you followed Seokjin as he carried her to her room, stopping by the entrance to watch him lay her down and place a soft kiss to her forehead. You smiled to yourself, warmth flooding your chest at the touching scene in front of you before you both headed off for Seokjin’s room and began getting ready for bed.

Seokjin was lying on top of the mattress when you exited the bathroom, knowing you’d left your pyjamas in the closet somewhere. Only, the sight of him sprawled out in baggy shorts and a t-shirt, so casually sexy, had you suddenly distracted. In just your underwear, you viewed him from the end of the bedframe. “Where were we earlier?”

He groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “I don’t know, I think I’m in a Disney Princess coma.”

Chuckling, you placed a knee on the bed. “You enjoyed yourself really.” Then your hands. Then your other knee. Slowly crawling towards him. “Do you want to enjoy yourself now?”

He immediately sat up, back against the headboard, his eyes falling to your cleavage. He smirked softly. “That sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.”

Ten minutes later you had him in your mouth, knelt to his side, ass facing him as he rubbed and massaged the flesh to his heart’s content. “You’re so good at this,” he praised, his fingers slipping into the side of your underwear teasingly. You sucked him deeper. “Fuck. So good. Baby, let me make you feel good too.” He removed his fingers and ran them along your ass, stopping at your entrance to rub. You were soaked through, could feel it yourself. He moaned. Either because of your tongue or because of what he felt. Maybe both. “So wet and you’re only sucking my cock.”

You slid your mouth off of him, running your fist up and down the solid and slippery length instead. He jerked his hips into your touch, chasing the pleasure. “Quit inflating your ego,” you quipped.

He chuckled, turning to his side as his fingers moved up to the waistband of your underwear. “Mm. Like this?”

You got the message loud and clear, letting him slide the fabric down your ass before settling down on your side too. You ran your fist over the tip of him as he rid you of your underwear altogether, wrapping his arms around your hips to angle your heat towards his mouth. You wriggled as you felt the first press of his tongue, earning you a quick, playful smack to the ass and after that you let him hold you tight, the tip of his tongue digging between your folds to flick against your clit.

You leaned forward, wanting to return the favour, and sucked him back into your mouth, the angle now making it easier to slip him deeper. You’d never done something like this together before, which was surprising in itself considering the sheer amount of times you’d been unable to keep your hands off each other these past three weeks. It was so erotic hearing him groan against you as he continued to pleasure you, your own moans vibrating down his cock as you both grew more eager, lost in the feeling.

He came first. It probably had something to do with the way you massaged his balls, concentrating on sucking the tip of him as his hips grew impatient and he began rocking into you. He moaned your name, mouth faltering, and all he could do was grip your ass tight as he felt his orgasm take over, grunting as you swallowed each drop.

“I win,” you gleed softly, pulling away from him to kiss down his softening length.

“Of course you do,” he murmured, sounding fucked out. “Fuck, I needed that.” Rolling onto his back, he ran his hands down your thighs. “Come here, let me kiss you.”

Moving to straddle him, you leaned in and kissed him hungrily, still very much horny, and tasting yourself on his lips didn’t help matters. His hands cupped your bare ass, spreading it slightly so he could run his fingers along your lips, so wet he was sinking in before he could realise.

You moaned, rocking into him and he cursed softly, pushing his head back into the pillows. He tugged you forward. “This way,” he got out, panting slightly, out of breath from the way you’d kissed him. You understood from the way he was lifting you up where this was going…

Moving up his body, your thighs were soon either side of his head. He wasted no time in lunging forward, mouth picking up where he left off. You held on to the headboard, careful not to press your entire body weight into him for fear of suffocating him. Not that he would mind, you thought… He was all over you, licking and kissing wherever he could reach, hellbent on tasting every inch of you, humming in enjoyment the entire time as you panted.

You kept your eyes on him, one of your hands moving to caress his hair, pushing it out of his eyes, his forehead on show as well as those deadly eyebrows of his, currently furrowed in determination. When his dark eyes flickered up to your face, you shuddered, moaning loudly. He loved it. It set him off.

“I love the way you taste so much,” he praised, pulling back to rub his thumb over your clit. You bucked into him, fluttering when he kissed the spot lovingly. “That right then,” he almost rasped. “It’s been a fantasy of mine for a while.”

In other circumstances you’d 100% shoot a witty comeback his way, but not now – definitely not now. Not when he was slipping two fingers inside of you right this instant. You were soon rubbing your hips into his face like a woman possessed, needing to feel his tongue again as you choked out a few extra moans.

“Honey, that’s it,” he encouraged with a long groan. “Ride me a little. You have no idea how much this turns me on. I could get hard all over again.”

Moaning, turned on by his words, you listened, relief flooding you when you felt the warmth of his tongue against your clit. You moved like you usually did when he had you spread on your back, grinding against his tongue, only this time you had a lot more control – and he seemed to love it, free hand digging into the side of your ass, the other dragging against your walls, making you tremble. With one hand clutching the headboard, the other in his hair you used the leverage to rock against him, the squelchy wet noises fuelling you further, until you were panting and out of breath, unable to take much more.

You lifted your hips a little, feeling your legs tremble like jello, and let Seokjin kiss the inside of your thighs, his fingers now shallowly fucking you as you attempted to catch your breath. “I love how wet and warm and soft you are,” he groaned. His lips brushed past your clit, breath fanning over you. “You really have the most amazing pussy.”

“Seokjinn,” you moaned, unable to stop from jerking against his face again. His mouth would be the death of you. He latched his lips against your clit, sucking the bud gently into his mouth over and over again. You were done for, sighs of pleasure rolling out of you as you stared down at him.

“Mmm, baby? You gonna cum?” He asked, stroking your walls deeper, pressing and curling as he went. You nodded, incoherent noises all you could manage as your thighs tightened. “All over my face?” He prompted.

You didn’t need much encouraging.

It was inevitable the need for condoms would become unnecessary soon enough. Which was a shame really, given Seokjin’s bargain hunting, but it wasn’t long before they became a bind – inconvenient, more so. That, and you wanted nothing more than to feel Seokjin bare inside of you, to be as close as physically possible, and nothing could be as close to feeling him come inside you. It had been a while since you’d been on birth control, years obviously, but highly organised and a bit of a control freak, you’d be damned if you ever forgot to pop that pill every goddam day.

The first time without a condom had been mind-blowing. You were under the impression sex with Seokjin couldn’t get better than it already was, but you were wrong – very wrong. You were home alone, Arin staying with her mom for the night and you were taking full advantage of the opportunity. Who needed dinner at a time like this? But Seokjin (who had now become reacquainted with his culinary skills) insisted on preparing a candlelit meal. It was almost reminiscent of your first time together entirely, Seokjin keen and eager to pull out all the stops, and you teased him to no end. Was coming inside you for the first time really that big of an occasion? His reply: Yes. Very much so yes.

Not an hour later, half your plates still full and too excited for no more than ten minutes of foreplay, you were both naked, sweaty and way beyond control. The bedsheets were rumpled, barely hanging onto the bed as you rolled around, the pungent smell of sex in the air, and in hindsight, you should’ve knocked the aircon on…

Not that you had time to think right now. You’d successfully gotten him onto his back, riding him into submission until all he could do was hold onto your breasts and meet each bounce with a roll of his hips. You clutched him to you, hands over his own as you concentrated on the burning pleasure travelling up your body. It had been a couple of weeks since the last time you’d been able to fuck with such abandon. Arin was obviously home 90% of the time and on the odd occasional Seokjin spent the night at your place, Soojung was there (maybe even Tae too), her bedroom right next to yours.

Seokjin’s hands soon found their way clamped to your hips, pushing you back a little so he could see himself as he thrust up into you. You cried out, the sound of his skin thudding against yours telling you just how hard and fast he was pounding into you. His eyes were glued to where your bodies met and he could see perfectly just how well you were soaking his dick, just how good you were taking it, stretching over his girth.

“I’m close,” he panted, hips stuttering. He slowed his pace, but kept the pressure, his cock getting deeper. You held on tightly to his thighs, anchoring yourself, your walls clamping down around him. He groaned, feeling every minute sensation without the latex barrier. “I’m so fucking close. Can’t wait to cum inside you.”

You moaned in response, holding eye contact with him, your face contorted with pleasure, and that seemed to set him off, your pants and sighs of pleasure happening in unison as he sped up one last time, ready to fill you with his cum. The veins in his neck burst as he grunted and his cock twitched, flesh scorching. He fucked you through each wave of his orgasm, holding you still, your body jerking with the force. In the back of your mind you realised come tomorrow morning you’d be sore as hell, but honestly, who cared?

Carried away, no longer able to think straight, his cock fell out of you with one awry thrust. He was growing flaccid anyway, sensitive, so it was impossible trying to push back inside of you. Which was sad because you were still a mess, warm with his cum and desperate for more relief. You plopped down on his thighs, your breasts rising up and down with each laboured breath and then Seokjin’s eyes caught something. Something seeping out of your body…

“Fuck.” He half moaned in amazement. “It’s dripping out.”

After that you didn’t have a moment to think. You were flat on your back before you could truly process his words, his fingertips circling your swollen entrance, smearing his cum in the process. You pulsed in anticipation, body greedy, and he gave it to you swiftly, plunging two fingers inside you. You moaned on impact, feet planted to the mattress as he started snapping his wrist, pushing his cum back into you.

“Baby, you drive me crazy.” He husked, sounding positively tormented. “Look so pretty with my cum inside you.” All you could do was moan in reply, walls squeezing around his digits as he coaxed you to orgasm. “I can feel it,” he grunted, pressing his body into yours, his mouth chasing for a kiss. Your tongues meshed together urgently, kiss sloppy, done in haste.

“Seokjinn…” Your voice was a whine and you clutched at his shoulders, closing your eyes when you felt his lips trail down your chin, moving southward, towards the valley of your breasts.

He growled as your body jerked, his tongue swirling around one of your hard nipples. “You’ve started something now. I’m gonna have to cum in you every single day.”

You were on fire. His words affecting you in ways you didn’t think were possible. “Don’t s-stop,” you implored, although if anything, he was snapping his wrist even faster now, fingers curved, hitting right where you needed. You moaned loudly. “You always make me feel so good. Mm. I’m-I’m… Fuck.”

Grunting, your curse ruining him, he made his way back to your mouth. You held him tightly, back stuck to the bed with sweat. “Cum, baby.” He told you. “Please.”

That sent you over the edge, waves of pleasure rocking your body and he swallowed each one of your moans greedily, his fingers gradually slowing, easing you through your orgasm until he slid out. He pulled back with a drunken grin. “You’re so sexy.” Then he looked down your naked body, sighing in wonder. “God, you’re amazing.”

“Quit it!” You exclaimed with a laugh, whacking his shoulder. Still very much out of breath.

Summer continued to fly by, not long left now until you were back at school. As much as the prospect excited you, you couldn’t help but feel a little dejected. Having so much time off had worked out perfectly for your relationship with Seokjin, because even though he was still very much busy with work, you had all the free time in the world to match his schedule. It made you sad to realise there would be no more lunch dates. No more impromptu midweek movie nights. Actually, thinking about it, staying over during the weekday would probably be pretty impossible too – with all the lessons you’d have to plan and the work you’d need to score. In fact, you were about to be a hell of a lot busier from September onwards.

Seokjin reassured you as best he could. You’d fall into routine soon enough and things would work out. You could still meet up for lunch – he’d drive over and you’d eat in his car if needed, and you could still spend the night on a weekday. He’d wait patiently while you finished up work, make you dinner and then make sure you were asleep by 10pm. You appreciated the sentiment, he always did know how to cheer you up. Although his “Think of it this way, you left school single and now you’re going back with an incredibly kind and insanely sexy boyfriend. I’d call yourself lucky, if I was you.” wasn’t as treasured… He thought he was funny, but he wasn’t at all…

Still, you had two weeks left to go, there was no point being miserable over the inevitable. You’d had the best summer of your life, you were lucky. (Just not in the way Seokjin had implied…)

“I can’t wait to take this off you tonight,” Seokjin murmured against your ear as he zipped the back of your dress up, insinuation deep in his tone.

Turning around to face him, you placed your hands on his shoulders. “We can always skip tonight and go straight to the sex.”

Laughing heartily, he tapped your ass. “Nice try. There’s nothing to be nervous about, okay?” He ignored your grumbling and stepped away, reaching for his cufflinks on the bedside table. “It’s just a dinner, honey.”

“With a bunch of the country’s richest people,” you exclaimed, feeling sick all over again. Every few months or so Seokjin had dinner with a few of his colleagues. They brought their partners along, and this time Seokjin was ecstatic you would be joining him. You on the other hand were this close to hyperventilating.

“That’s a small exaggeration,” Seokjin scoffed, cufflinks now attached as he made his way back to you. He cupped your waist, tilting his head to the side with a smile. “Besides, your boyfriend is included in that bunch. Are you nervous around me to?”

“Shut it,” you muttered, reaching to straighten his bow tie. He looked amazing in his suit tonight, hair parted to the side. Skipping dinner seemed like an excellent idea… But when he leaned in to kiss you sweetly, you knew you couldn’t. Seokjin was looking forward to “showing you off.” (His exact words.) I’m not a trophy, you’d shot back, but of course you knew he hadn’t meant it like that. It was sweet actually. He was proud. And happy. And cute.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you hugged him close. He nosed your neck, humming happily before nipping a patch of skin with his teeth, growling playfully. “Seriously, I can’t wait to rip this dress off you.”

You squealed as he began to tickle your sides, trying to push him away. “Stop, you’ll crease it.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured, easing up to gaze at you. “You’ll still look stunning. Always do.” The black floor-length dress you were in was nothing you were used to, and maybe that’s why your nerves were worse than what they should be but knowing Seokjin liked what he saw helped ease your reservations. How could it not? He always made you feel like a million dollars.

He was looking forward to tonight, so you should try to as well… You had nothing to worry about.

You really didn’t.

The night was a success. Despite your lives being vastly different, you got along with Seokjin’s colleagues well. They seemed like lovely people, especially the wife of Seokjin’s CFO. She was around your age, a couple of years older maybe, and you bonded over your favourite book series like a pair of nerds. You both left with a recommended reading list saved into your phones, numbers exchanged with plans of encouraging one another to read more. Seokjin was delighted you’d enjoyed yourself so much and you spent the chauffeured car journey to your place talking about the night.

Although, as soon as you got inside was an entirely different story altogether. It had already been pre-decided that Seokjin would spend the night with you, Misook babysitting Arin at his home, and you soon realised that he had not been messing around when he’d informed you he was going to rip the dress off you. You weren’t even up the stairs before he was attempting to unzip you, bumping his crotch into your ass with every step as he kissed your neck, blowing raspberries as he went.

“Shhh. Shush,” you giggled, trying your best to whisper successfully. “They may be still awake.” You knew Taehyung was staying over tonight too, he’d been here spread out on the couch before you’d left for Seokjin’s place this afternoon.

“Better get you to your room quickly then.” He said confidently, pouncing on you at the top step as he wrapped his arms around your middle.

You bit back a squeal, shoving your foot into his shin. “Seokjin!”

In the privacy of your bedroom, you shut the door tight, turning back to see your boyfriend already stripping out of his tux jacket. He didn’t have shoes on either and as you looked around for them, spotting nothing, you realised he must have kicked them off back downstairs. When?! He reached for you, running his hands down your curves before they settled on your ass. He looked at you as if he wanted to eat you. Your stomach stirred, only now realising exactly where tonight was heading. He really hadn’t been bluffing…

“Did I tell you how stunning you looked tonight?” He asked, popping his bowtie off and unbuttoning his shirt halfway. His collarbones sharp enough to cut, the outline of his chest clear enough to make you dribble.

You chuckled, although you could hear the aroused tremble so obviously. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

He smiled your way, although it was more like a smirk, and stalked towards you. “Turn around.”

You obeyed in an instant. His fingers reaching for the zip of your dress. It was already halfway down – something you hadn’t realised. (He was obviously somewhat success back in the hallway.) As he revealed the expanse of your back he kissed the nape of your neck, gently pushing the straps over your shoulders to let the fabric slide down. With an expert snap he had your bra loose, removing that too, and it fell to the floor in front of you, hands reaching forward to cup your breasts, fingertips pinching your nipples. You moaned, disappointed when he moved, but then he started mouthing down your spine as he helped the dress along, surprising you when he crouched down, and then inevitably got on his knees, pushing the garment past your hips. He groaned when he saw your thong, lips parting to caress you with his tongue.

“You have the most perfect ass,” he gruffed against the skin, giving you a squeeze. “Have I ever told you that? Could worship it all night.”

Please, you wanted to murmur, but you held back, biting down on your lip as you felt him sink his teeth into one of your ass cheeks. What was with him tonight? You could already feel your arousal collecting between the small band of your panties. It wasn’t going to hold for long.

“Let’s get you out of this dress.” Despite his casual tone, he tugged the garment harshly, causing you to stumble at the sudden movement.

“Seokjin!” You chided lightly, clutching onto one of his hands now at your hip. “I still have my heels on, could’ve broken my ankle.”

“I was here to keep you safe,” he assured you with a chuckle, and then as an afterthought, “Maybe you could keep them on while we…”

You bumped your butt into his face, silently telling him to shut it, and kicked the footwear off, now able to remove your dress easily. Seokjin stood, spinning you to face him, mouth pressing into yours with haste. He kissed you passionately, wrapping his arms around you, holding you to him, your breasts pushed up against his chest. He was still clothed, but you could feel his erection pressing into your stomach. You wanted to touch it, but your hands were too busy caught up in his hair.

“Bed,” he panted up against your mouth, practically lifting you up to push you down on the mattress. You settled on your elbows, watching him as he tore open the rest of his shirt buttons, throwing the item to the floor, his well-defined torso now on full display.

He pounced on you, kissing you hungrily once more, so hungrily in fact, you needed to pull away to catch your breath. He moved to your cheek, wet kisses finding their way to your ear. Sensitive, you had to push him away with a hand to the chest. “Sorry, am I being too much?” He murmured, lips sticky.

You shook your head with a shaky giggle. “I just can’t keep up.”

“Just lay back and enjoy, baby.” His tone was reassuring, encouraging, and insanely sexy. He lifted your hips, scooting you up the bed to rest your head on the pillows. “Can you do that for me?”

“Of course.” You watched him raise up on his knees, the clank of his belt making you pulse down below as he undid it. He unzipped his pants but made no effort to take them off, running his palm once along the curve of his length before he crawled over you. He placed a sweet kiss to your mouth, smiling as he pulled away. “Did you notice I didn’t go for dessert tonight?” Puzzled, you stayed silent waiting for him to explain. His smile widened, more of a grin now – a very amused one at that. “I was saving myself for something tastier.”

You scoffed. He was unbelievable, but it was easy to let him get away with such corny lines. Especially when he had you spread out near naked on your own bed. “Lame!” You exclaimed, immediately clamping your hand across your mouth. You needed to remember to keep quiet, Soojung and Taehyung were asleep next door, but you were feeling uncharacteristically unbothered tonight, too eager and excited.

He chuckled at your silliness. “Y/N, I’m pretty sure you’ve heard them have sex before. Think of it as payback.”

His nonchalance was pretty attractive so you let his words ease your mind. Although maybe it had more to do with the way he was trailing kisses down your stomach… He leaned back to spread your legs, already bent at the knee. You were pretty sure your thong was doing nothing to protect your modesty anymore.

He confirmed your assumption with a sharp intake of breath. “Honey, you’re soaking. I haven’t even done anything yet.” You braced yourself, waiting to feel the brush of his finger, but instead it was the softness of his tongue. He licked a strip up your clothed mound, a noise of delight rumbling from him. You pulsed uncontrollably, eager for more.

He gave it to you. Lips wrapping around your hidden clit, tongue laving, soaking the delicate material even more. Your legs instantly squeezed around his head, unsure what to do with the sudden influx of pleasure before you moaned, rocking your hips into him gently.

He eased away slightly, replacing his tongue with his thumb, rubbing skilled circles that caused you to squelch. “Love your pussy so much,” he murmured, going back for more hastily.

You moaned again at his words, fingers digging into the sheets beneath you, but it wasn’t long before he was kissing back up your stomach, mouth now attaching itself to one your nipples. Your hands flew to the back of his head, looking down at him as he flicked the bud with his tongue, moaning as he did so. It was such an erotic sight you felt speechless, and when his chocolatey brown eyes met yours, pooling with desire, you felt beside yourself.

“Turn around.” He whispered, roughly. “On your knees for me?”

You had never listened so fast in all your life, scrabbling on your hands and knees in record time. You waited as patiently as you could, ass in the air, anticipating his next move. You startled when you felt a puff of air against your entrance, the sound of Seokjin’s sticky lips loud in your ears. “You look so good in this thong,” he praised, snapping the thin line of fabric between your ass.

Pushing into him, you smirked. “I wore it just for you.”

He hummed – in contemplation almost – before he pulled your panties to the side and dove straight in with his mouth. You yelped, ducking your head at your volume. You’d been expecting him to go straight to the sex, not continue to eat you out. He’d never done it in this position before – it felt amazing. A noise dragged from his throat as he pulled away, fingers dipping under the sides of your panties to drag them over your ass impatiently. As he did so, he bit into your ass, his hands now spreading your thighs, exposing you more so he could bury his face between your legs.

You held your breath, waiting for him to continue but nothing could prepare you for the pleasure he was about to inflict on you. He flicked his tongue out against your clit, nose and mouth pressed flush against your heat, hands rooted to your ass and you moaned right away, bucking into him instinctively. Unable to hit your clit as well as he usually could he slid his mouth along your slit, tongue beginning to lick at your entrance, sucking your inner lips gently into his mouth as he did so. You were soaking, could feel yourself starting to drip down the inside of your thighs, but Seokjin didn’t seem to have a care in the world, lapping you up as if he was a man dying of thirst, rough moans letting you know just how much he was enjoying himself – enjoying you.

When you felt his tongue push inside you, you jolted, sensation instantly making your thighs squeeze together. Not that they could with Seokjin hunched between them. He began to experimentally push in and out of you, noticing the way you tensed around him and hearing the way your breathing got shallower. Wordlessly, his hand reached forward, around your thigh to hook between your legs and start rubbing your clit with his fingers. With his other hand he gently (but firmly) pushed down at the small of your back, your ass rising higher, giving him better access to keep fucking you with his tongue. With the added stimulus you could feel yourself breaking, knees trembling, pushed hard against the mattress. He felt so warm, and wet, and just incredible. Your moans got more frequent, heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“That feels so good.” You managed to choke out, your orgasm so close you could taste it. That’s usually when you gabbled. “Right there. Don’t stop!” He listened, speeding up his movements, the squelch getting louder as he grunted in exertion. He sounded so hot it just turned you on even more, and you lifted your ass higher, pushing into each thrust of his tongue. He rubbed your clit desperately, determined to push you ever the edge.

You gasped, unsure how else to stay quiet as more words rushed out of you. “Seokjin–! I’m going to– Oh, my god, I’m coming!” Burying your face into the pillows your moans turned muffled as you came, white hot pleasure bursting through your veins. So sated, you couldn’t even find it in you to feel embarrassed with how loud he’d just made you orgasm.

His finger moved away first, clit pulsing against nothing as he massaged the round of your ass instead, coating you in your own arousal, before his tongue eased off, placing a delicate kiss to your entrance as a goodbye.

The mattress shifted under his weight as he moved back a couple of inches and you heard him slide his belt out of the trouser loops, the sound flying straight to your core. He stripped behind you quickly, you couldn’t even bring yourself to take a peek, too dazed, yet your imagination worked quite well. Instead, you kept kneeling for him, waiting for his return.

He wasn’t even a minute. You felt the warmth of his dick press against the small of your back as he made his way closer once again.

“Are you ready for me?” Despite the deepness of his voice – how obviously he was affected – you could hear the care in his tone as he checked in on you.

“So ready,” you insisted, jutting into his thighs.

He chuckled, pushing his dick between your legs now, sliding it across your slit. You were still sensitive, squirming against him, but you were also still so greedy, so you let him do what he wanted, soaking his cock along your wetness unhurriedly. You were so distracted by his movements, the smack he suddenly landed on your ass had you yelping more so from shock than sting. If you weren’t so drunk with pleasure right now you’d chew him out for being so loud.

“Did that hurt?” He asked curiously, voice dripping danger. You felt your gut squeeze. That was new. He’d slapped your ass before but never with that much intent. The sting melted into your skin as he massaged the spot. “Mm, baby?” He pressed, voice now dripping honey. “Do you like pain?” He spanked you again but this time you were ready, biting down on your lip. “Like it when I’m mean to you?”

You nodded, some type of agreeing noise leaving your throat which seemed to appease him. He rubbed your ass soothingly, the head of his cock now dragging across your entrance. How he had this much patience was beyond you. You could not relate.

“Quit teasing.” You whined. Put it in me.”

“Don’t be a brat, honey.” He chuckled, but he pushed ever so slightly into you. He let out a sharp exhale, starting to fuck you shallowly with the tip, hands at his sides. You squeezed around nothing, flinging your head back frustratingly. “Seokjin!” You wanted him to fuck you. And touch you.

Chuckling again, throatily, he pushed an inch deeper. He wasn’t even halfway inside of you. “I want to antagonise myself. Shush.” But he gripped your ass, pulling you apart slightly to slowly push inside of you all the way. You both groaned with the drag, taking a breather as you squeezed around him, getting used to the feeling. You always felt so full in this position, trembling around his crazy big dick.

Soon he began to move, sliding in and out of you with intense concentration. You couldn’t see him but you knew his gaze was welded to where your bodies met, watching himself disappear inside you over and over again. “You’re the tease, Y/N,” he murmured, picking up the pace. You could hear yourself squelching around his girth. “You drive me fucking crazy.” He felt you pulse and his breath hitched.

Bunching the meat of your ass in his fists, he pounded into you for a few moments, holding you still, making you take it. You whimpered, trying your best to stay quiet. “Always take my cock so well. Don’t you, baby?”

“Ye-ess.” Your voice broke, a moan tearing through you as he rammed himself deep inside , stopping dead. “Fuck, Seokjin.” You were burning up. You needed him to move before you sobbed.

With precision, he started fucking you slowly, bottoming out each time, revelling in your warmth, your wetness. It was so intense your eyes started to water, trying your best to stay as silent as possible but each breath was sounding more and more like a moan. You could hear yourself squelching around him every time he moved. So could he.

“I love that,” he said, voice tight, as if he was trying his best to keep calm. “I’m gonna cum so deep in you tonight. Fill you up good.”

You moaned loudly this time. It was always hot to hear your well-spoken boyfriend fall off into the deep end, articulation deteriorating with each thrust. It turned you on like no tomorrow. “Please do,” you urged, walls clamping around him at the very thought.

He lost it at that, begging with your words and your body, and it wasn’t long before his movements were speeding up, his hips snapping against your ass as he held it tight. “Can you cum again?” He sounded frantic.

“M-maybe – oh.” You jolted, feeling Seokjin’s fingers at your clit.

“I really want you to cum again for me.” His fingers became persistent, rubbing circles against your sensitivity.

Holding your breath, you concentrated. On each thrust, how good his dick was, how the motions on your clit felt. Everything… You willed your second orgasm, feeling it start to be pulled out of you. You started to meet each of his thrusts, skin slapping as your sweaty bodies worked together. “Yes, yes, yes, yes–!” You urged with each thud, so close you were trembling. Your voice broke as the sensation took over, moan turning into a squeak as you tried to shut up.

This time your orgasm was shorter, but it didn’t make it any less intense. In fact, it immediately exhausted you. “Shit. Fuck.” You mumbled, pretty much collapsing into the bed, Seokjin wedged deep inside you.

“You feel different.” He groaned. You felt him twitch. “Love that feeling.” Ever so carefully, he drew back, hands gliding along your back. “I’m okay to finish?”

“Yes,” you nodded, turning to press your cheek to the pillow. You jutted your ass out, feeling him slide back in almost involuntarily, your tightness calling him back. “Be quick though.” You were tired – and sensitive. Still horny though…

He found that amusing, chuckling throatily. “I promise you I will. I’m so fucking close.” He pulled back again, grunting. He was taking his time, easing you into it. “Ngh. I’m almost too big for you now. You’re squeezing so much.”

You moaned in reply, loving the way he held your hips firm and rolled into you, slowly fucking you into the mattress.

“Tell me how much you’re loving it,” he pretty much pleaded, ever so slightly speeding up.

“I love it so much.” You professed. “You have n-no idea.” You jerked forward as he hit deep, crying out. “Seokjinn! Please. Go a little faster.”

He grunted, sounding smug. “You want my cum.” You moaned in reply. “Say it for me.” He demanded. “Please, baby, say it for me.”

“I want your cum,” you moaned.

And that was enough. With a strangled cry he began to snap his hips faster and faster, fucking you hard, chasing his end. It didn’t take long. A minute later he rammed himself deep, stiffening as he came inside you, groan of relief loud as all the tension left his body. “Shit.” He muttered, collapsing on top of you, careful not to press his full body weight into you.

He held your shoulders, nuzzling into you as he slid to your side. You used what was left of your energy to turn around, letting him smother you with kisses. “That was… I don’t know what came over me.” He exclaimed.

“It was amazing,” you gushed, running a hand down his sticky chest. You could spot your arousal, now dried to his face, his hairline damp with perspiration. You leaned in for a kiss, pulling back when he began to laugh. You looked at him puzzled.

“You want my cum,” he gleed.

“Get lost!” You groaned, pushing him away. He rolled onto his back, his chest still rising visibly as he caught his breath.

“I need the bathroom,” he announced, standing and looking around. “My bag? I thought Misook said she dropped it off for me?”

Sitting up, you glanced around. “Maybe Soo left it downstairs.” She’d probably thought you’d spot it by the door when you arrived home. You’d been too distracted… “Wear my robe.” You suggested.

“That?” Seokjin questioned, looking sceptically at the pink fluffy nightgown hooked onto your closet door.

“Why not? You’ll look cute.”

“True,” he agreed, turning to reach for it.

“Nice ass.” You had a great view from here.

“Hey,” he whined, throwing the robe on quickly to hide his modesty.

“What, you have a really nice ass for a forty year old!” You insisted.

He clicked his tongue. “Now that’s just rude.”

You giggled as he left, calling out a not very believable sorry after him. A few minutes later you heard Soojung’s door open, footsteps in the hallway and then, voices. Taehyung and Seokjin’s. They’d bumped into each other. You laughed to yourself, imagining how awkward it must be for them right now. Amazing. Twenty seconds later Seokjin and your fluffy robe were shooting through the door.

“Oh, my god.” Seokjin grimaced. “That was so awkward. Taehyung wanted the bathroom as I was leaving.”

“I heard,” you chuckled, amused by your boyfriend’s unnecessary mortification.

He laid on the bed, groaning. “We had to small talk. He was in his boxers… I think he knew we’d just had sex.”

“Yeah, he probably heard us too…”

Seokjin made a noise of discomfort. He wasn’t so sure of himself now, was he? You rolled your eyes and reached for him, gathering the collar of your gown in your hands to kiss him. You grinned. “You look really sexy in my pink fluffy gown.”

He hummed against your mouth, “I know, right?” He didn’t need persuading when you pulled him over you, untying the middle of the robe before pushing the fluffy garment over his broad shoulders. His dick was soft, but he was eager if the way he kissed you was anything to go by. It made you feel guilty when you inevitably pushed him away, robe victoriously clutched in your arms.

“Where are you going?” He whined, watching you stand.

You slipped into the nightgown, smiling cutely. “I need to pee.”

When you woke up the next morning there was a text waiting for you from your beloved best friend…

Soojung (08:12am) Tae just told me he woke up and heard you guys having s e x last night Then he bumped into Seokjin who was wearing ur robe I’m glad I’m a heavy sleeper But he said it sounded like you were having a GREAT time 😏 Dilf got movesss 😳

The embarrassment!

Today was a very important day, according to one little person. Arin’s seventh birthday. She’d mentioned it almost every single day since August had arrived. Seokjin had worked really hard organising her a garden party, inviting all their family and friends, including a couple of her friends from school. You were a bit nervous about that, knowing you’d be met with a few curious questions but there were more pressing issues at hand... You were about to meet Seokjin’s parents for the first time. (As well as numerous other members of his family, but a girl could only worry about so many things at once.)

He’d already met your family a couple of weeks previous – joining you for lunch with your mom one afternoon and then accompanying you for dinner at your father’s house a few days later. Seokjin had taken it in his stride, so even if he was a little nervous he never once showed it. He was good at that, you admired him for that. You on the other hand were this close to breaking out into a nervous sweat.

You were thankful Arin had you preoccupied all morning, insisting on helping Misook and you put up the decorations for her own birthday party. Helpful as always, although be it a little buzzed. Scrap that, a lot buzzed. She was still on a high from celebrating her birthday with her mom for a couple of days. She’s only gotten back yesterday afternoon, and that’s when Seokjin had surprised her with two pet rabbits – one snowy white, the other midnight black. Her excitement levels were through the roof today. Seokjin had called you this morning informing you he’d been woken up at 5am and he needed your assistance ASAP because he couldn’t handle a hyperactive birthday girl all on his own the entirety of the morning…

By 1pm some of the guest had already started arriving; Seokjin’s brother and his wife, along with their two twin boys who were a couple of years younger than Arin. Aunts and uncles, and a few cousins, Seokjin’s friend Namjoon, who had two children; a 9 year-old daughter and a four year-old son, and then a few of Arin’s friends, some from various clubs she attended and two you recognised from school. They recognised you too of course, and you overheard Arin adorably telling them that you were her “daddy’s girlfriend.” No matter how much time past, and no matter how natural this all felt now, you were still so happy that Arin was on board with all this. It was the best feeling.

Seokjin’s parents were the last to show up seeing as they lived quite far away, and you waited nervously to meet them as your boyfriend took their luggage upstairs to one of the guest rooms. Meeting his brother and his friend and the rest of his family hadn’t been bad at all, so you were feeling very optimistic by now. Still, you could hear your heart beating frantically when you saw Seokjin leading them into the kitchen where you were blowing some last minute balloons.

“You must be Y/N,” his mom greeted with a smile, arms wide as she walked towards. With a quick embrace she kissed you on the cheek. Seokjin had warned you about that.

“Hi, it’s really nice to meet you,” you smiled back, relaxing slightly down to her warm attitude. (It also helped Seokjin had taken place by your side, arm brushing against yours.) You glanced towards his father, greeting him with the same smile and he gave you a nod, a friendly “Likewise,” leaving his lips. Seokjin had also let you know that his father was the silent, polite type. Seokjin was similar. They even looked quite alike. His mom was slim and elegant, and incredibly beautiful.

“You’re even prettier than your pictures,” she informed you, taking your hands in hers.

“Pictures?” You chuckled nervously, glancing up at Seokjin.

He groaned quietly. “I may have sent her a couple of us together. My mom’s very nosey. Dad not so much.”

“Oh,” you blurted, hearing his father laugh. You smiled coyly back at Mrs. Kim. “Thank you.”

“Nonsense. I’m not nosey,” she insisted, raising an eyebrow at her son. “Curious, I’d call it.”

Seokjin chuckled. “Of course, mom – Oh!” Something caught his attention out of the window and he rushed off, opening the sliding glass door to stick his head out. “Arin, your grandparents have arrived. Come say hi.”

Mrs. Kim let go of your hands as Arin came dashing in like a hyper puppy. “Grandma! Grandpa!” She squealed, throwing herself into her grandfather’s arms. “It’s my birthday!”

“Is it?” He asked, playing clueless, but he couldn’t keep it up for long. “Of course it is!” He kissed her cheek. “Happy birthday, pumpkin.”

“Happy birthday, Arin. Are you having fun so far?” Her grandma asked, fluffing her hair. Arin went to hug her next. “What gifts did you get? We have yours in the car, but you have to wait until later, okay?”

Arin nodded, before proceeding to talk all about her day. She didn’t come up for air, which was highly amusing for all four of you. However, inevitably, she got bored, her hand slipping into yours, tugging it gently for your attention. “Y/N, can we go and see if the buffet is ready now?”

“Of course we can.” You glanced at your watch, then up at Seokjin who was doing the same. It was half past two, you’d agreed to start eating at 3pm. Arin’s senses were perfect.

“No sneaking anything off the table, young lady.” Seokjin told her. “Especially not cake. You won’t have to wait long.”

Arin couldn’t help but giggle at that, already beginning to drag you off.

You were on your way back from the lower floor bathroom when you bumped into Seokjin’s mother again. She was stood by the dining room entrance, rooting around in her purse, pulling out her cell phone. “Oh, Y/N, dear, I was just getting my phone so I could take a few pictures of Arin. I need to show them to my mother. She’s a bit too old to make the journey down here.”

“Awh, that’s a shame,” you replied, coming to a halt politely.

With a nod, she changed the subject. “I’m so glad the weather is hot for her birthday.”

“I know. She’s been so excited, hasn’t been able to stop talking about it for the past month,” you laughed. The party had been a success, the food and games going down a treat. It had been a long time since you’d attended a child’s birthday party – your siblings were long past that age, and you’d forgotten how fun they could be, even if you were much older now.

Being surrounded by Seokjin’s family wasn’t as nerve-wracking as you’d initially thought. They were all so lovely – not that you didn’t expect anything less, of course, you were just thankful you could hold a natural conversation with his mom.

“She really likes you. I can tell.” Mrs. Kim said out of the blue, surprising you, but you tried to hide it well.

Smiling softly, you replied, “I’m fond of her too.”

“I heard you were her teacher?”

“For a short while.” You nodded. “That’s how Seokjin and I met.” But you guessed she already knew that, you know, mother’s curiosity and all.

Her mouth quirked up and then she snorted. “My son definitely knows how to make an impression. I heard he hit your car?”

Laughing, you’d been correct. He had told her how you’d met. “Yeah, but I try not to tease him too much about that anymore.”

“It sounds like fate, no?” She smiled, before shaking her head and raising a hand. “Sorry, I’m a hopeless romantic at heart. The first time my husband and I set eyes on one another it was love at first… You probably don’t want to hear about that,” she chuckled. You opened your mouth, ready to disagree, but she spoke again. “I just… I haven’t seen Seokjin this happy in a very long time. Not since Arin was born.”

Speechless, you tried to think of something to say. Just what? “Oh, I –”

“What are you two conspiring about in here?”

You heard Seokjin’s voice from behind you and turned to see him walking towards you both with a grin on his face. When he reached you he cupped your waist, kissing you on the cheek. His mom watched on fondly.

“Nothing… much,” she replied, a teasing lilt to her voice. It caught his attention. “I was just telling Y/N that I haven’t see you this happy in years.”

“Mo-mm,” he whined, immediately growing red.

“What? I’m just speaking the truth, Seokjin,” she laughed and looked in your direction. “He gets embarrassed so easily. Have you noticed?”

“I have,” you laughed along.

Smiling tenderly at him, she stepped forward and touched his arm. “I’ve loved hearing my son laugh all afternoon.” Seokjin dropped his head, even more embarrassed now. He was cute. “Okay.” She clapped her hands, taking pity on him. “That’s enough from me. I’ll leave. Your father’s probably on his third slice of cake by now…” Kissing Seokjin’s cheek softly, she began to walk off. “You love me really.”

“Of course,” Seokjin called, turning to you once she’d left, heading back in the direction of the garden. “Sorry about that.”

You chuckled. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. We were just talking.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging him. “You’re cute.”

“You’re never too old to be embarrassed by your mom,” he muttered, kissing the top of your head. Snorting, you leaned back, but he held you tight, gazing into your eyes. “You look really pretty today.”

“You say that every day.”

“Because it’s true.” He kissed your lips, stopping any clever remark you may have had dead.

Instead, as he pulled away, you brought your hands up to his chest, straightening the collar of his shirt. “Let’s get back outside. I’m enjoying myself.”

“I’m glad.” Seokjin beamed, eyes twinkling.

At that moment, it hit you how happy he looked… You’d not really noticed it prior, but now his mom had pointed it out it was so obvious.

You hoped he could tell just how happy you were too… It was all down to him, after all.

#seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bangtansorciere #fic:mls #floralseokjin:writings

1K notes · View notes

ptergwen · 4 years ago

Text

web of lies

take a leap. if you start to fall, the net will appear to catch you.

photographer!peter x journalist!reader || masterlist

w/c: 7.1k

warnings: swearing, one drinking mention, descriptions of anxiety, and angst if ya squint

summary: peter can’t stop holding your hands, betty and ned are the modern day bonnie and clyde, ned is a terrible guy in the chair, the osborn’s are up to something, and mj hates you all

a/n: y’all i’m super excited about this series like i haven’t had an idea i’ve really loved in months? so it’s good to be back !!! there are tons of things i have planned and i can’t wait to share them with all of you hehe i really hope you enjoy part one <3 happy reading

to be honest, which is what you do best, you’ve had a thing for peter parker your whole time at the daily bugle. you actually almost told him once.

a couple months ago, peter walked you home on a night you worked overtime. he’d came in last minute to leave some pictures on your boss’s desk. no one else but you was there, hunched at your computer in the dim office lighting. peter was pleasantly surprised to see you, yet concerned for your well-being. you had to put your finishing touches on a story.

he didn’t feel comfortable letting you travel alone at that hour. so, he went with you when you were ready. his company was more than welcomed. you told peter about your article while you two sat on the subway. he’d listened intently, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm around you. he made sure you got to your apartment building alright as well.

“hey, peter?” you’d asked, halfway up the steps. he was waiting until you were inside and safe to leave. “hm? you good?” he’d smiled sort of expectantly. “yeah. i... i wanted to say...”

your words got caught in your throat when he gave you the softest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. you couldn’t do it. for some reason, you were too scared to confess how you felt. “thanks again for walking me home,” you’d settled on. he’d seemed disappointed that was what you wanted to tell him. nevertheless, he said not to worry about it before taking off.

that one moment perfectly captures it all; how yours and peter’s narrative plays itself out.

—

“we’ve got an update on hydra v. the people!”

“those freaky giraffes escaped the zoo... again.”

“shoot one more spitball and it’ll be your last.”

“does anyone have an aspirin?”

welcome to the daily bugle, where the chaos never ends and the calm never starts. you’ll find new york’s finest writers, publishers, and creatives of all kind right here. that would include you. you’re one of the top journalists in the whole building, according to mr. norman osborn. he’s the brilliant and slightly insane man who runs this place.

although it’s rare for someone in your field, you were hired straight out of college. norman read a few pieces you’d written and loved them so much that he offered you a job. full time, full benefits, no questions asked. there was something special about the way you wove your words together. your writing had its own voice. a strong voice, one the paper was severely lacking.

you’ve been with the bugle for just over a year now. it’s not the quiet, nine to five gig you were initially expecting it to be. you’re each very unique individuals in your office, and there’s never a dull moment because of it. your coworkers can be found hosting debates on the riskiest topics or tackling each other for blueberry muffins, and that’s just a regular tuesday. the place is stranger than strange. but, it’s become home.

thanks to mr. osborn being so accommodating, you actually settled in rather quickly. another big help has been the friends you’ve made. your first was michelle jones, who prefers to be called mj. she’s a fellow journalist with a wickedly dark humor that trickles into her writing. if you had to describe her in one word, it would be blunt. mj is as real as it gets, and also eternally loyal. she keeps her circle small, so you’re honored you get to be in it.

mj sits right next to you, which means you’re always talking through your days. that’s due in part to the way your office is set up. there aren’t any cubicles, tables and swirly chairs taking up their space instead. norman heard it was more progressive, probably from his son harry.

harry is about your age, only a couple of years older. he hangs around quite a lot, but doesn’t do much with his time besides that. according to norman, he’s still seeking out his passion. he’s banking on him finding a suitable career at the bugle. he’d like to pass this all on to harry some day, hopefully sooner than later. either way, you don’t mind having harry here. he’s super funny and friendly with everyone.

there’s also ned leeds, who’s an editor and reviews most of your pieces. he’s sweeter than candy, even when he’s ripping your grammar to shreds. on the rare occasions you’re not discussing breaking news, you two talk about movies. ned is a film buff and gives you the best recommendations. you’re convinced he was a critic in his past life.

last but so from least is peter parker. he only works for the bugle part time, since he’s still in school. you both graduated from your respective colleges the same year. peter wants to get his masters degree, though. he’s a photographer who’s aspiring to be a cinematographer. him and ned have their passion for the industry in common, and that’s what makes them such great friends.

you learned this and more from the times you and peter have partnered up on stories. he’s one of your best friends not only at the bugle, but in your entire life. the many long nights you’ve spent collaborating have brought you close to each other. they consist of drinking and deep talks, along with some actual work. he takes the pictures, you do the writing. you’ve been told you make a lovely pair.

peter says it himself, too. you’d like to believe he means it as more than coworkers. he’s so caring, and smart, and pure, and peter. yeah, you like him an awful lot. you can hardly stand the feeling of it sometimes.

the fact that you you haven’t come clean already is ridiculous.

“goddamn. not again,” you mutter out. “em, you better come look at this. it’s bad.” mj wheels over to you in her chair with a puzzled look. her eyes follow yours, landing on your computer. “leeds just sent this? to everyone?” she questions, your reply a short hum. you’re both staring daggers at the email your screen displays.

ned is responsible for assigning each journalist their own topics to cover. he’s been lacking a bit recently, having you write up think pieces on fluffy things. in other words, stuff that no one cares about. he asked you to compare oat milk and almond milk just last week. you’d hoped this week would be better, but here you are.

“this is ass. who does he think we are, buzzfeed?” mj scoffs at her own words. the daily bugle prides itself on being a reliable news source, on paper and tv. you’re starting to stoop down to the low level of your competitors. “he assigned me some tiktok dance trend. i’m not writing a single word about that app.” she sets her elbows down on the table, head in her hands.

“aw, why not? grandma mj isn’t down with the kids?” you tease and click out of the upsetting email. “i don’t write for kids,” mj deadpans. she pushes her glasses up on her nose. “what’d you get?” “the evolution of memes,” you gloomily reply. you’re surprised norman has been approving these topics. then again, ned is the head editor. he can do whatever he wants regardless of approval.

mj glares over at the kitchen, where betty brant currently resides. she’s making two hot chocolates instead of her usual one. “i blame her,” mj mumbles to you. your eyebrows furrow. “dude, what? betty is an angel. she doesn’t even work in editing.” betty is the bugle’s highest rated anchorwoman. her and her news team are on people’s televisions every night.

“no, but she has been spending a generous amount of time with leeds,” mj grumbles. she’s admittedly very nosy. the upside is that she tells you any juicy office drama there is. “my theory is betty’s making him give us crap stories so she can report the good ones.” she glances over at you to see what you think. “no way. that can’t be allowed... or legal,” you laugh back.

as if on cue, ned appears next to betty in the kitchen. he takes the extra hot coco that’s piled high with whipped cream. betty tucks a sheet of paper into his suit pocket and kisses his cheek, then he’s gone. you can only gasp as you watch this unfold. what has she done to poor, clueless ned?

“not such an angel anymore, huh?” mj smirks in satisfaction. “suddenly, she has red horns and a pitchfork,” you bitterly agree with your tongue in your cheek. betty waves to you two on her way back to broadcasting. mj gives her a fake nice finger wave, you ignoring her. “we can’t sit back and let this happen, em. we have to do something,” you decide. “let’s tell norman.”

uninterested, mj takes off her glasses and starts to clean them. “like he’ll believe us. yeah, golden girl betty brant is sabotaging the writer’s room,” she rewords her previous statement to put its stupidity in perspective. you throw your hands up. “she is, though! we literally watched it happen!” mj puts her freshly wiped glasses back on and sighs.

“i doubt norman would care, y/n. every newspaper to ever exist is corrupt somehow.” your pessimistic old pal has a point. however, you’re not so willing to accept it. “why can’t we be the first one that isn’t?” you offer a small smile. mj snickers, wheeling back to her own computer. “those are words of the innocent.” she’s already tapping her fingers across the keyboard.

“i thought you weren’t doing the tiktok piece,” you say under your breath. you’re slightly pissed mj turned you down, since she’s the reason you know about betty’s meddling. “i’m not,” mj answers sharply. “i’m gonna email quentin and ask if we can change our topics. happy?” quentin beck is another editor in the building. he’s not bad, but he is intimidating. no one typically goes to him as their first option.

“i’m thrilled,” you confirm and grin at mj to emphasize it. “thanks for stepping up. you’re forgiven.” “i didn’t realize i had to be sorry,” mj notes, this time in a playful manor. she shakes her head as she begins writing. “you and your morals.”

what you value most in your career is honesty, under any circumstances. of course, the other daily bugle writers are the same. norman strictly prohibits clickbait and crazy headlines because that isn’t real news. you leave that to companies like buzzfeed. you’re honest in the sense that you say whatever has to be said, what everyone else is too afraid to. you’ll speak your truth no matter who tries to stop you.

it didn’t used to be that way. there’s some childhood trauma that remains deep in the back of your mind. you’ve left that behind you now, having over a decade to cope with it. hey, they say the past is in the past. what’s important is your takeaway, that you would never let yourself or anyone else be silenced from there on out. never again.

quentin ends up giving you the okay to write different stories. he lets you and mj choose choose your own because he’s got “better things to do” and you’re “big girls.” what a peach he is. mj goes with how capitalism is continuing to provoke global warming. she has something to say about every major world issue, and you admire the hell out of her for it.

you’re a bit stuck when it’s time to write your article. it’s terribly ironic because you pushed for this. you aren’t too worried, though. the city is crawling with material, so you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually. lucky for you, some much needed inspiration comes skipping out of the elevator.

“morning, peter,” you hear liz greet him at the front desk. she’s your floor’s receptionist. her wisdom and patience keep this place going. “hi, liz. how’s it going?” he asks. “things have been quiet... mostly. can i do anything for you?” liz peers up at him. peter sports a shy smile. “uh, yeah. mr. osborn wanted to see me?” “right. hang on.” she nods, dialing his office phone number.

it’s endearing how peter calls him mr. osborn, seeing as the rest of you go with norman. he’s probably the politest guy you’ve ever met.

grinning, liz puts down the phone. “you can go in whenever you’re ready. good luck!” peter laughs nervously and turns to leave. “thanks, you too.” his face falls when he realizes his mistake. “wait, i- i didn’t mean to say that. that was stupid. you’re not-“ “it’s fine, peter,” liz reassures him. his anxiety makes him trip over his words sometimes. that, and he’s a bit dorky in general. you find it rather adorable.

you also wonder what exactly he needs good luck for. he’s not even supposed to be working today, so your curiosity as to what’s going on has been piqued.

“um, i’m gonna go now. bye!” peter rushes off, his face tinted pink from the embarrassing encounter. you’re hoping he’ll stop and talk with you for a little while, but he heads straight to norman’s office. your whole body deflates at that. mj notices from her peripherals.

“what’s the matter? missing your hubby?” she coos, her words dripping in sarcasm. “no,” you lie. “i’m... i don’t know what to write about.” ok, there’s some truth. mj gives you a couple pats on the shoulder. “ask parker for help. you two work... well together. don’t you?” this must be the zillionth time you’ve heard that.

“we do,” you murmur and glance at norman’s closed door. peter is hidden behind it. “i just don’t wanna bug him. he has finals soon, and whatever norman is putting him up to. it’s my job, anyway.” mj pokes your arm. “those sound like excuses to me,” she concludes, still jabbing at you childishly. “you really just don’t wanna tell him you like-“

“can you keep it down?” you hiss, yanking your arm back. “he’s literally right over there.” peter stands up and shakes norman’s hand. you catch it through the blinds on his window. “y/n, you were drooling over his mere presence only minutes ago,” mj prefaces, a smile pulling at her lips. “you can handle three little words. i like you, that’s it. spit it out already.”

you’ll never admit this to mj, but she’s right. you lost your momentum after your first failed attempt to say the three little words. you’re still not sure what stopped you. you’d shared the details of that faithful night with her, and she’s been pushing you to try again since.

the door to norman’s office opens, and out walks peter. he’s beaming after their conversation, which seems like a good sign. harry passes peter on his way in to pay his dad a visit. he claps him on the shoulder, peter happily accepting before continuing his stride back into the main office. it takes a moment to register that he’s coming towards you.

you quickly set your focus back on your computer so he doesn’t think you’ve been watching him. even though, you definitely have.

“y/n!” peter calls your name. he’s on the opposite side of your table, in front of you. “peter!” you match his tone. “i was just dropping by. i thought i’d say hey while i’m here.” he’s still grinning. “what’re you doing?” he looks cute as ever in an oversized and cream colored sweater. his curls are slicked back with a tad too much product, cheeks rosy. you gaze up at him when he rests his arms on the table.

“pretending to be productive,” mj answers for you, pressing her lips together. peter cocks his head to the side. “pretending?” “ignore her. she’s being a shit stirrer today,” you explain. “like every other day,” he jokes, earning a laugh from you. mj just tuts and keeps writing. “talk about me like i’m not here,” she mumbles to herself, then gets back into her article.

“anyways, i thought you didn’t work today?” you ask to take the attention off yourself. also, because you’re curious. “oh! get this.” peter perks up even more, if that’s possible. he has energy like no other. “you know alex in broadcasting? betty’s camera guy?” “what about him?” you wonder. “he called in sick earlier this morning, with the flu or something.” he’s oddly excited to announce this. that prompts you to make a funny face.

biting back another smile, peter elaborates. “mr. osborn needed someone to fill in for him, so he picked me. i’ll be here all week.” it makes sense, since peter knows how to work a camera and does so wonderfully. you give him a celebratory push at his chest. “peter, that’s amazing! this is the perfect way to transition from pictures to film, right?” he’s nearing his finals at school, which consist of more movie-like projects. the news will be great practice.

then, he’s off to hollywood. you’ll put that out of your mind for now.

“exactly! i think it’ll be a good place to start. the pay isn’t bad either.” peter wiggles his eyebrows at you, you giggling once again. you do a lot of that when he’s around. that’s going to be more often now. “plus, i get to see you. everyone wins.” he squeezes your hand that was just on him. your heart begins to thump. “except alex,” you challenge, playing with his fingers. “but, for real. i’m happy you get to do this and that we’ll be spending more time together.”

“thanks, y/n/n. me too.” peter grins and leans over, taking a peek at your computer screen. there’s a blank word document on it. “you never told me what you’re up to,” he chuckles. “guess mj was right... nothing.” “i’m always right,” she chimes in from next to you. you look between the two of them with a scowl. “i haven’t found my story yet. i don’t know, this never happens.” peter nods as you share your dilemma. “no good ideas are coming to me,” you murmur.

“they will. you have a way of attracting things.” he licks his lower lip, your heart completely stopping this time. “well, i gotta go set up for rise and shine with betty brant.” he waves his hand like he’s presenting his words. that’s what betty calls her morning news segment. “be careful with her. she’s being really sketchy these days,” you warn peter, mj grunting in agreement.

confused, peter purses his lips. “really? ned says she’s a sweetheart. they’ve been going out for a while.” mj pops her head up and adjusts her glasses. “did ned also tell you she’s bribing him to give her all of our scoops?” she’s asking rhetorically because she already knows the answer. of course he didn’t. “it’s one thing to not like her. you’re just making things up now,” peter huffs.

mj kicks your foot under the table. “i told you no one would believe us. not even peter gullible parker.” “it’s benjamin,” he corrects her. “whatever,” she brushes it off, resuming her work.

peter does tend to be sort of naive, to only see the good in things when there’s plenty of bad. you’re the same in that way, unless you hang around mj for too long.

“is that true? betty’s stealing your stories?” peter turns to you and asks. you gesture to your screen. “i don’t have one, so you do the math.” he hums sympathetically. he’ll listen to you, never mj. “i’m sorry. thanks for telling me, y/n. i’ll watch out for her.” he bends his fingers to look like goggles, putting them around his eyes. you sigh lightheartedly.

“are you twenty two years old or twelve?” mj remarks, but not without a comeback from peter. “you’re, like, eighty five. worry about that.” they’ve had this type of banter for as long as you’ve known them. it’s equal parts amusing and exhausting. “don’t be late on your first day.” you snap peter out of it with a knowing smile. he returns it.

“i hope something crazy happens so you can write about it.” he’s walking backwards now, towards the elevator. “see you later, pete,” is all you say back, yet another laugh threatening to escape you. “see you. bye, michelle,” peter says just to bug her. “it’s mj,” she groans without looking up. he shrugs. “not so fun, is it?”

after peter is gone, you try to get back into work. or rather, you try to start your work. what he said about you having a way of attracting things keeps ringing in your head. was he flirting? no, he couldn’t have been. peter parker doesn’t flirt. words aren’t his strong suit, and you have countless memories that prove this to be true. earlier with liz, for example.

you’re probably reading way into this. peter was simply doing what any good friend would do and gave you advice.

it’s late in the afternoon when anything worth mentioning happens again. peter is still with betty, as far as you know. they’re probably preparing for the nighttime news now. all you’ve done since seeing him is nibble on snacks and bug mj, who’s almost done with her story despite your distractions. this is really bad, considering your deadline to submit is at the end of today.

you’ve never missed a deadline.

mj emails her work to quentin while you repeatedly bang your head on the table. she hits send before deciding to entertain you. “whatcha doing over there?” she cautiously prompts, powering off her computer. “trying to get an idea. i’m desperate, if you couldn’t tell.” your voice is muffled. “i could.” mj grabs your shoulders and pulls you back so you’re sitting up. you childishly pout.

“y/n, the only thing that’s gonna give you is brain damage,” mj says sternly, then softens her tone. “why don’t you ask for an extension? norman gives me them all the time.” whining, you slump down in your chair again. “yeah, but you’re you! we do things differently, have different expectations put on us.” she’s back to cold mj after you say that. “alright. at least i did something today besides pine over that little-“

mj’s insult for peter is interrupted by harry. “ladies, what’s shaking?” he comes up to you two with a the hint of smirk on his face. you manage a nod to acknowledge him. “oh, hey... harry,” mj unenthusiastically replies. she’s the one person who isn’t really a fan of him. “not much. y/n was just having a tantrum.” “she was not,” you dismiss her. “it’s work stuff. you know your dad.”

harry clicks his tongue in a teasing way. “yep, the grind never stops in this joint. boss man is...” he does the sign for cuckoo with his finger. you laugh a little at that. “in a good way,” you add on. mj only watches you two, blinking blankly. harry gives you a definitive pat on the back. “before i forget, he wants to see you.” that gets mj talking. “norman?” she questions. “your dad?” you choke out at the same time.

“who else? he said you two have to talk.” harry flashes you a weary smile. “have fun in there, old sport.” you’re too busy biting the skin off your bottom lip to respond. “mhm... she will,” mj speaks on your behalf. even she sounds worried. saluting you both, harry leaves to go pester your other colleagues. you’re completely and totally fucked.

“that’s it for me!” you grin sarcastically, freaked out by harry. “i’m fired, aren’t i? i’m definitely about to get fired, and it’s all because-“ “relax!” mj cuts off your rambling. she reaches down and grasps at your wrists. “get it together, y/l/n. you’re the best we have, okay? you aren’t going anywhere.” your grin becomes a frown. “then why does norman wanna talk to me? and, why don’t i have a story?”

mj always has the answers, but this time is the execption. she lets out a breath. “i don’t know. you’ll go find out and tell me what happens.” there’s no use protesting. you’re going to have to face whatever you’re about to at some point. “ok,” you give in, defeated. “i’ll be back soon, i hope.”

the walk to norman’s office feels like a walk of shame. mj can do nothing but sit back and observe it. if this ends the way you think it will, you’ll be collecting your things and won’t ever return. norman is a kind man, and he’s usually pretty understanding. he doesn’t mind the workplace shenanigans as long as you get your job done. unfortunately, you haven’t today.

you hear your boss’s booming voice when you approach his door. inhaling deep, you knock on it, and the room goes silent. “come in,” norman responds after a few seconds. mustering up a smile, you open the door to be met with your doom. “hi, am i interrupting something?” you check. “not at all! you’re just the person i wanted to see. sit, sit,” he beckons you over. he’s not using his angry voice, so maybe you’re in the clear. you enter the room as told.

you’re shocked to see a terrified peter is already in one of the chairs. he visibly relaxes a bit now that you’re here. what the hell is happening? whatever you were expecting, this was the last thing.

taking the armchair next to peter, you sit facing norman’s desk. you nudge his arm to get his attention. his big brown eyes lock with yours. “what’s going on?” you whisper. “no idea,” peter whispers back. the two of you turn to norman again when he claps his hands. he’s plopped down into his cushy leather seat.

“so,” he begins, gaze flicking from peter to you. “you kids know why you’re here?” “is it because i missed my deadline?” you blurt out. you’re once again a nervous wreck. peter doesn’t speak, just winces. “not that. although, i did hear from ned that you turned down his assignment.” norman flicks at a post-it on his desk. “i asked quentin for one instead. me and mj,” you explain, peter’s eyes going wide.

“you talked to quentin? that guy’s bad news,” he murmurs to you. “how so?” norman questions, since it’s his employee. “he- he, um,” peter clears his throat before answering, “he’s super critical, you know? hates all my pictures.” “i love your pictures,” you assure him, the corners of his lips turning up. “your style is so cool. yeah, though. quentin’s pretty bitter.”

considering this, norman drums his fingers on the desk. “i’ll look into that. but, that isn’t why you’re here. i’m letting you off the hook this time.” your whole demeanor changes and a huge weight lifts off of you. “really? you are?” “i have a scoop of my own that i want you to cover,” he continues, peter bumping your knee happily. a toothy grin takes over your face.

“since peter will be sticking around for a while, i want him to join you.” norman waits a beat in case you have any questions. it’s been a minute since you last worked together. peter laughs in disbelief. “you want me to take over for alex and do this?” norman nods proudly. “y/n will need the extra hands, if you have them.” “yes, sir. i do,” peter immediately confirms. “my last class is next thursday, so i have the time.”

“wait, so you’re almost done? that’s awesome!” you bump peter’s knee this time. “yup, all that’s left is finals... and studying.” he mindlessly takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. you’re enjoying his gentle touches. “thank you so much, norman. seriously, i appreciate this a lot,” you tell him and mean it. “hey, no problem,” he chuckles at your eagerness. you grip peter’s hand tighter.

“what’s the story?” “ah, yes. the most important part,” norman starts, peter sharing an excited look with you. “how familiar are you two with spider-man?” his excitement fades at the question posed. it’s unbeknownst to you, caught up in the moment. “uh, same as everyone else, i guess,” you casually reply. “how come?” “he’s your subject.” norman points at you both. “you’re gonna study him over these next few months.”

peter’s hand goes limp in yours, and he gulps hard, throat feeling dry. “you mean, like, an exposé?” “no, no. there will be no exposing,” norman clarifies. “i’m sure he wears the mask for a reason.” that settles peter only slightly. you’re not sure why he’s so tense all of a sudden. “what’s our aim here, then?” you steer the conversation.

“see what new york’s favorite hero gets up to every day, how his life is beyond the crime fighting,” norman further describes your task. peter exhales a shaky breath, shifting away from you in his seat. the golden sun hits his face and reveals a bead of sweat dripping down it. you stare at his figure in worry. “you okay, peter?” “fine. i’m just... hot,” he murmurs back. his sweater does look pretty heavy, so you concede.

getting back to norman’s story, you grimace at the idea. “do you really think people will want to read that? for lack of a better term, it sounds kind of...” you pause. “basic.” “i thought the same thing at first,” he surprisingly agrees with you. “harry pitched the idea to me this morning. you won’t believe it! the other night, he caught spider-man hanging outside his window.”

“harry... harry saw him?” peter squeaks out. he uses the wool material that feels like it’s swallowing him to dab at his forehead. “he stopped on his balcony. must have been pretty late, the kid’s a night owl,” norman says about his son. your face lights up as you listen to him. “he took some shots of spidey in action, when he swung off. i saw a few. they were pretty great.” he’s grinning at his son’s success.

“maybe he’ll get into photography with you, pete,” norman suggests. peter gives him a weak smile in return. “we’d be happy to have him.” he usually has a lot more to say about his career than that. his behavior is starting to genuinely concern you. “anyway,” norman gets back on topic, “it got me thinking. how much do we really know about this guy? we’re supposed to blindly put our trust in him?”

you’re beginning to see the appeal now. you’ve written your share of pieces on the avengers and their methods, tackling the same questions norman just asked you. spider-man shouldn’t be overlooked, especially when he operates so close to your home. this could be another revolutionary superhero story in the making. and, you get to bring peter along for the ride.

“you know what? this has a lot of potential,” you smile at norman, then peter. he has his phone in his lap, fingers flying across the screen. it must be something important. you’ll discuss with norman while he takes care of that. “we could make it a weekly thing, about spider-man’s adventures. find out what we can about the man behind the mask...” peter shoots up in his seat. “without taking it off,” you finish, putting his mind at ease.

“see, i knew you were gonna love it! it was a blessing in disguise, you missing that deadline.” norman bangs his fist on the table with a hearty laugh. “what do you say, peter? you still in?” peter slips his phone back in his pocket. his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “oh, of course. i can’t wait to work with you, y/n/n,” he speaks in a monotone voice, adding on, “again.”

something is definitely bothering him, and it isn’t the weather.

“i gotta go. betty needs me upstairs, so,” peter moves to get up, his body stiff. you assume that’s who he was texting. “thank you again, mr. osborn.” he’s rushing out of the room just like that, until you call after him. “um, don’t you wanna set a time to meet up? so we can get started?” you reasonably ask. “i... i really gotta go. find me later,” peter tells you, giving you both a tight lipped smile and running off.

“the dynamic duo is back!” norman announces to you. you’re disappointed you can’t share that sentiment with peter.

he’s absolutely booking it down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the next elevator. this is bad. this is a nightmare.

peter went from having one of his best days in a while to the worst in not even a full round of work. today started off fine, and got better when norman promoted him. it got way better when you came along. he saw your smile that makes his insides tingle, heard your laugh that’s the prettiest sound to grace his ears, held your hand that he never wants let go.

things went a bit downhill after that. betty was pushy and yelled at him a lot, demanding he only film her good angles for the segment. you and mj weren’t wrong when you told him to be careful.

later on when he saw you again, everything was okay. he was physically shaking as brad told him mr. osborn requested to see him. brad is mr. osborn’s assistant. a try-hard for sure, but good at his job. why did mr. osborn call him in? did betty complain already?

they’d been sitting in mostly silence, save for small talk until you came knocking on the door. simply being next to you was enough to ground peter and his racing thoughts. it was enough, then it wasn’t.

the whole day had gone to shit after he found out you were going to be writing stories about his alter ego. not only that, but he was helping. during the pitch, he’d texted ned to meet him in the bathroom. he was really anxious and needed a friend who understood why.

ned accidentally found out peter is spider-man last year. it’s a long story that involves peter hiding from some bad guys in the building and ned shrieking so loud the lights flickered. they’re cool now that peter talked things through with him. his secret has been kept, from what he knows.

pushing open the men’s bathroom door, peter is a mixture of sweat and ragged breaths. he’s panting from his fast descent down the staircase. he takes in his disheveled appearance using one of the mirrors. his styled hair is now damp and undone, hands trembling and palms sweaty, chest heaving. here’s his daily reminder that anxiety is not cute. as if he didn’t know.

his stupid, gigantic freaking sweater is only making things worse. it’s suffocating him. no one else is in here, so peter pulls it over his head and tosses it to the ground. he’s got a t-shirt on underneath that happens to be black. what a convenient day for him to wear the hottest material there is.

peter splashes his face with some cold water next to try and cool himself down. that doesn’t do much for him. his face still feels like it’s on fire, but now it’s wet. he takes his hands through his mop of curls, backing away from the sink.

“fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck,” peter repeats to himself. he’s silent for a moment, then rage overcomes him. he kicks open a bathroom stall. “shit! i can’t do this. what am i supposed to-“

the door creeks open, so peter shuts up in case it isn’t ned. it thankfully is, and he wears a deep frown at the sight of his best friend. “dude, what happened? you look...” “terrible. i know,” peter finishes for him. he tugs at his locks in another attempt to tame them. ned approaches him carefully. “you’re not, like, dying... are you? because betty was telling me you have to-“ “of course you were with betty,” peter exhales in frustration. “no, ned. i’m not dying.”

in ned’s defense, the text he received was very alarming. all peter wrote was, ‘EMERGENCY. SOS.’

“i mean, yeah. it was my break.” ned sits on the ledge by the window, close to peter. “you do the same with y/n.” the mention of your name upsets peter all over again. he hides his face in his hands as ned watches. “if you’re not dying, then what’s the problem?” ned finally asks. “me and y/n...” peter removes his hands from his face, meeting ned’s worried eyes. “mr. osborn wants us to do a project together.”

“uh, peter? you’ve been saying how much you miss her forever, dude! you’re not excited?” ned snorts at him. he means well, but he has no clue what he’s talking about. “no. it’s supposed to be about spider-man,” peter answers angrily. this isn’t the support he was hoping for. realizing the severity of the situation, ned gets serious.

“oh... but, you’re still doing it?” he questions. “i didn’t have a choice,” peter scoffs out. “i can’t let either of them down.” “you’ll expose yourself!” ned escalates things further. “it’s not like that. we’re gonna follow spider-man around and post updates on him,” peter says, technically in the third person. he’s given an are you insane? look from ned.

“you are spider-man! and, no offense, but you’re not so good at hiding it,” ned refers to himself finding out. “how are you gonna be in two places at once?” damnit, peter hadn’t thought about that yet. he can’t be taking pictures of spider-man and swinging from building to building simultaneously. “i- i’ll figure it out,” peter stammers, unconvincingly.

ned looks him over in a disapproving way. “jeez. you’re really putting your life on the line for this girl-“ “woman,” peter interjects, not loving ned’s attitude towards you. “have some respect.” unfazed, ned gets up from the windowsill. “speaking of women, remember betty? you’re still on the clock,” he changes the subject. peter nearly forgot he has to go film her segment.

“i’ll head up to her now,” peter gives in. he scoops up his discarded sweater, not bothering to check his appearance again. ned follows behind him to the door. “we wrote her script together, you know,” he gladly informs peter, who already knows from you. “not really a flex,” peter mumbles his response. “peter, lighten up.” ned hits at his shoulder. the two of them exit the bathroom.

“you’ll figure this out later. i can always help.” he shoots him a sugary sweet smile. “thanks, ned. for talking with me and everything.” peter doesn’t smile back. they do a quick bro handshake, then they’re going their separate ways. “have a good show, dude!” ned yells back, to which he doesn’t get a response. peter doesn’t have it in him.

he allows himself to take the elevator back up to broadcasting. he’s so drained from the several anxiety attacks he endured. while peter waists for the elevator, he contemplates all the issues he’d better solve. it’s a relief to hear it ding because it brings him back to earth. that doesn’t last long because both you and betty are there when the door opens.

you’d each had the same idea, to find peter. unlike betty, your intentions were good. you asked liz if she saw peter leave. she told you he went downstairs, so you did also. betty was already in the elevator when it got to your stop. she was looking for him because, you guessed it, he had to record the news. the small space was filled with tension as you and betty occupied it.

“perfect. we’re going right back up,” betty beams, motioning for peter with her index finger. “hop in!” “coming,” peter does as told, going to stand between you and betty. she presses the button for your floor and theirs. the doors close. “pete?” you speak up, voice soft. “you kinda ran off earlier. i thought you were with betty.” “clearly, he wasn’t,” betty sneers.

you’re less concerned with her and more with peter. the sweater he looked so huggable in is now folded in his arms, his face splotchy and jaw clenched. he must have gotten triggered by something back in norman’s office.

“are you sure you’re okay? you... you can talk to me about it.” you take a step closer to peter, your doe eyes searching for his. he meets them with a tiny smile. at least, it’s real this time. “i’ll be fine, y/n/n. ‘s nice that you came to check on me, though.” “don’t mention it.” your arms loop around his neck and bring him into a hug. peter hugs you back by your middle, chin resting on your shoulder, breathing out in relief.

you keep your hands on his shoulders when you pull back. his stay on your sides, a lopsided grin now crossing his features. “spider-man...” you quirk an eyebrow. “how are you feeling about that?” “should be cool,” peter somehow maintains himself. “i’m mostly looking forward to doing it with you.”

listening in, betty joins the conversation. “what’s happening with spider-man? anything i should know?” her hand reaches into her bag and emerges with a notepad. does she ever think of her own content? “she’s nothing if not persistent,” you grumble to peter. chuckling, he pulls you into his chest. if he didn’t hold you back, you would’ve pounced on her.

“we’re gonna do a piece on him,” peter tells her. “you can’t copy or steal this one because it’s already been approved,” you contribute, smiling smugly as peter holds you tighter. betty is taken aback. “are you accusing me of stealing? who said i-“ “ned ratted on you... sorry,” peter says in a sing song voice. squealing, you jump away from him. “he did? we were right?”

“mj’s never wrong,” he reiterates. “mj knew about this? oh my god, i can’t believe her!” betty stomps her foot. “we got you on candid camera.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth. peter mimes taking a picture to back you up. “alright, alright. i won’t do it again,” betty mumbles, turning away from you two in annoyance.

“finally!” you hold up your hand for a high five, which peter gives you. “we really do make the best team,” he hums. your fingers intertwine with peter’s, and he lays his palm flat against yours. he prays extremely hard you don’t notice that it’s sweaty. you do, but you couldn’t care less.

“i was wondering when you’d wanna start our... research?” peter asks you, his lip between his teeth. “you were saying something earlier. maybe we could make a schedule.” “how elaborate of us that would be,” you tease. that earns a breathy laugh from peter. with a knowing smile, you put your free hand back on his shoulder.

“what are you doing tonight?”

peter parker taglist

@saturnpeter @tpwk-grande @itstaskeen @missyouhollnd @becicamina @dummiesshort @zspideyy @watchitimreadinghere @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @dpaccione @karispotters11 @theofficialzivadavid @thehumanistsdiary @kelieah @aayaissaa @petersgroupie @annab-nana @tayyx @swtltlmrvlgrl @magicalxdaydream @haoluvver @kjune113 @captainamirica @marvel-dork98 @emmastarz @killingbxys @viriditie @misshale21 @veryholland @liliswifts @tommydarlings @rebelemilu @peterspideysense @cr-uelsummer @dreamy-clousds @quaksonhehe @quxxnxfhxll @blackbat2020 @babyblue19 @falconxbarnes @zachary-s @dirtytissuebox @dracoswhore007 @heavenlyholland @thsquad @etheralholland @dhtomholland @awh-lilies @tomshufflepuff @multifamdomfan12

if i forgot you please lmk!

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut #spiderman #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic

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awheckery · 3 years ago

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so. uh.

cut for frank discussion of chronic illness and the serious failures of the american healthcare system. tw for fatphobia and gaslighting.

Last July, I got sick. It wasn’t too bad at first: some fatigue, body aches and a slightly elevated temp, until suddenly it was bad and I wound up in the ER. It took three rounds of steroids, a round of antibiotics and a more powerful inhaler to get my feet back under me, but I never fully recovered.

I didn’t talk about it here, except for answering an ask in October and blaming my lack of creative output on depression. It really, really wasn’t depression; it was my health progressively collapsing, one system after another until the avalanche of symptoms that flattened me just after New Year’s.

For the last four months, I’ve spiked a fever over 100°F nearly every single day. My joints hurt. My knuckles are knobbly and swollen, and occasionally my fingers are so painful and weak I’ve had to literally tape my pen to my hand at work. I get rashes at random that itch so badly I claw myself bloody. I overheat and have hot flashes in temperate rooms. The skin on my face and neck and shoulders turns red and hot to the touch, like I’m burning for hours with no immediately discernible provocation.

Some days, I wake up and I don’t have the strength to get out of bed. Some days I can’t wake up at all. I’ve slept through deafening alarms for hours, long enough for my phone battery to run out and die. I can only stand up for ten minutes a day without being hobbled by the effort, and every extra minute beyond that I pay for in hours spent bedbound by exhaustion and pain.

I keep losing words. I’ll arrive at the middle of a sentence and stumble to a halt, because the word I need isn’t there. It’s not true aphasia, and it’s not all the time. I comprehend written and verbal communication perfectly well, but I can’t get my own thoughts out without tripping over them.

I am, to quote a friend attending school to be a nurse practitioner, “a textbook case for SLE,” and I agree, but somehow I can’t pay a doctor to treat me seriously.

In January, I was referred to a rheumatologist after the bloodwork my PCP ordered indicated I had autoimmune activity of some kind.

To date, that’s my only test for anything that’s come out definitively positive for any kind of disease state at all. Ever. I tested negative for celiac disease on a technicality nine years ago, despite how specifically and intensely sick gluten makes me, so I was dismayed but not too surprised when follow-up bloodwork for lupus came back just barely inside the range of “normal.” Despite that, I wasn’t prepared to be jerked around as much as I have been.

The first rheumatologist I saw, back at the end of January, had barely been in the exam room for thirty seconds when I could see he’d already made up his mind about me. He was dismissive and perfunctory and condescending when he told me that “plenty of perfectly healthy people have positive ANA results,” and he referred me back to my PCP for an exercise program and antidepressants to treat my “fibromyalgia.”

Putting aside that I’m not a “perfectly healthy person,” I’m a Fat Lady living in America, and I’ve experienced medical fatphobia for decades at this point. You learn the key words and phrases pretty quickly, and “exercise program” has never not been a euphemism for “weight loss.” (Which is heavily ironic in this particular situation, because before I was Fat, I walked 2-3 miles a day for funsies and spent 15-20 hours in the gym every week. I only stopped because I somehow shredded both my ACLs in one summer. I’d love to get back to that if a rheumatologist could help me figure out how to be active and uninjured at the same time.)

I was frustrated after that first appointment, enough to request a referral to one of the best teaching hospitals in the country. Why not go to the best, right? There was a five month wait for an appointment, but I am stubborn, and I made use of the time by documenting every bullshit symptom my body threw at me. I have a daily symptom journal, full of subjective entries like my pain and fatigue levels, as well as objective entries like daily temperature changes and photos of my rashes and my burning face and my goddamn mouth ulcers.

I thought I had enough logged to be impossible to ignore, and then I saw the second rheumatologist three weeks ago, and the first sentence out of her mouth was the beginning of an interrogation on my blood pressure, and whether I was taking medication or if I was on a fucking exercise program for it. I tried to get the appointment back on track by sharing my symptom diary, and she turned back to my just-under-the-wire test results, and told me, “many healthy people have positive ANA results, it doesn’t mean anything without other positive test results for specific conditions.”

I said, “Healthy people don’t run a fever for months.”

And then she told me that a "fever is not associated with any of the conditions a rheumatologist treats." I was so startled by the confidence and authority with which she stated the lie that I was unable to speak to rouse a defense or contribute anything else for the rest of the appointment. After an insultingly brief examination, in which I never took my face mask off and she declined to look at any of my photos, she said that she “didn’t see anything that could be rheumatologically wrong with me.”

I asked her what she thought could be wrong with me, and she grudgingly admitted it’s possible, though rare to have an autoimmune disease and test negative for everything, so she would order more tests and refer me to appropriate specialists for my various symptoms. She ordered a referral to an infectious disease specialist for my fevers, and a referral to a dermatologist for my “rosacea” (that she’s assuming I have, because I would like to again note she did not see it, at no point did she actually look at my face or a photo of it), and a referral to an ENT for a salivary gland biopsy for my dry mouth, and a referral to a neurologist for my “stroke-like” memory and speech problems.

It was, all told, an unbearably shitty appointment. I cried in my car for an hour in the hospital parking garage so I wouldn’t do anything impulsive like lying down in traffic, and then I went home, cried some more, and went to bed for three days.

On the fourth day, I woke up enraged. It’s one thing to be blown off by a doctor when you’re just reporting symptoms without proof, it’s a wholly different thing for a doctor to ignore your proof and lie about diagnostic criteria to your face.

It’s hard enough not to think you’re crazy when your test results come back negative over and over; it’s that much harder after being told that your major concrete measurable symptom is diagnostically irrelevant, when it really, really isn’t.

(for the record, just going off the symptoms I can concretely prove I’ve experienced in the last week alone, I land a 16 on this chart, which is the most up-to-date, widely agreed-upon diagnostic criteria)

I have decided, for the moment, to play ball. I don’t have the energy to jump through all the hoops this rheumatologist wants, but I'm angry enough to drag myself through them. Tomorrow I’m supposed to see the infectious diseases specialist. On Wednesday I see the dermatologist. In two weeks I see the ENT, and I’ve got a neurology appointment tentatively scheduled for December.

I’m going to be blisteringly forthright with all of these doctors about why I’m there, and that I’m looking to exclude diagnoses other than the lupus I pretty obviously have. (Except with the ENT. Apparently they treat allergies, and I’d like to be able to go outside long enough to walk a dog, someday.)

I’m supposed to see this rheumatologist again at the end of November. Depending on how this week’s appointments go, I’m aiming to either move up my appointment with her when one becomes available, or just send a firm yet diplomatic email asking why the diagnostic criteria apply to everyone but me.

If anybody else has gotten through this fucking nightmare successfully, I’m open to suggestions, it’s not like it can get worse at this point.

#long post #sufferpunk life #chronic illness #chronic pain #sle #lupus #aka why I've gotten nothing interesting or creative done since last year #fml

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abibliophobiaa · 2 years ago

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Beyond Chapter Five Preview

series masterlist

modern day!rich!fake husband!steve harrington x afab!reader.

💍

“You sent too much money.”

It’s your father’s voice that spills down the other line. Gruff in a way that alerts you your fears aren’t for naught, as he’s likely had many a sleepless night since you last spoke. You recall days as a child, when your mother had been sick, and your father would stay awake all hours of the night, if only to clean up the house so she didn’t have to. To make sure that her worries were only meant to be on getting better and resting.

“I…have a business and it’s going well,” you explain, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Only a few clients now, but I’m hopeful I’ll pick up more,” you continue, exhaling deeply. “I want you to have it. I know Caroline mentioned needing new shoes. Please let me do this.”

There’s a long pause. “Okay, okay. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. Clinical year at school, newly married, and now a businesswoman. How is my son-in-law?”

“He’s…”

“He’s really great. He’s been busy since we got back from our honeymoon, but he’s doing really well.”

Progress.

You’re making progress.

“You know, the dishwasher is empty,” you point out.

“I am perfectly capable of cleaning a few dishes,” he grouses, rinsing a cup and settling it in the drying rack. “I also need to keep moving. Getting antsy now that they’re running late.”

“Are you okay,” you ask, hand coming to rest against his back.

It’s the softest brush, and yet he turns his head all the same, hazel eyes meeting yours, and then trailing up the inside of your arm to where you’re touching.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he says unconvincingly, shifting to face you now. That arm drops as he does so, but is replaced by his two large hands cupping your biceps softly. His thumbs brush idle patterns against your warm skin. Back and forth, like a metronome meant to ease. “Just want to get through this afternoon and then I’ll be much happier.”

Your mouth opens to speak, to ask him why the stress over this afternoon, when his phone rings and the doorman lets him know Theobald and Cami have finally arrived.

#lunalovessteve #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington x reader #modern day!au #fake husband!steve harrington #steve harrington modern au #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x female reader

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tobiosmilktea · 4 years ago

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umpah umpah! smau

↪︎ bokuto x f!reader x iwaizumi

[033] — epilogue!

masterlist | prev. | next

a/n: this is definitely not my best writing cause my brain was going brr the entire time i was writing this, but i honestly can’t believed i have finished yet another smau! 🥳 ✨if i’m being completely honest this smau took a complete turn to what i was initially planning,, but it ended up not being that bad. i certainly feel like this smau would’ve been a lot better if i didn’t have school preoccupying me 24/7, but i’m still really proud of this. thank you guys for reading and dealing with this messy, messy smau!! ☺️

a year flew by faster than you had hoped. Two weeks turned into a month, a month turned into six, and six months turned into a year. A lot of things can happen within a year. Hell, a shit ton of things can happen within six months, yet here you were, all glammed up in your best dress at the move premiere of love cemetery.

you hadn’t felt this nervous in ages. the quickening of your pulse, the rapidly beating heart, to your pals that perspired as the seconds ticked on by. akaashi stood by you this whole time as your gaze keeps looking over to the guest list as if it were to magically change if you were too look away for one second. akaashi had been by your side, your moral support and the absolute backbone of your sanity the moment you and the team landed in los angeles a year ago. he noticed everything about you. he was one of your best friends, how could he not notice the way you were suddenly quiet and not excited right now?

he laid a careful hand on the small of your back to comfort you, leaning over to the same list of guests you were worrying about. “are you worried about who i invited again?”

“i’m more worried they’re not coming.” you confess without a single beat missed.

“oh, they will,” he assured you confidently. there was even a rising smirk in his expression when he let go of you, “have a little bit of faith in me will you? i was the one who got you back in touch with them.”

you huff playfully, rolling your eyes as you recalled the strange feeling of isolation over six months ago when you landed in la. it was in no doubt the longest flight of your life, lasting a good fifteen hours if you counted the two hour layover in hawaii due to reckless turbulence (it was one of the scariest flights in your life too). you had read their texts then, drowning in the sudden downpour of emotions when you read their words, i love you.

it almost didn’t seem real. you swore it had to have been the fatigue playing games on you as you couldn’t sleep for the life of you on the plane. yeah, maybe that was it, you excused. you were so desperate for their messages to be a figment of your imagination, you literally tried everything—turning your phone on and off, asking sugawara for eye droplets, and even ignored it until you were back on the plane and landed in los angeles. it had to be fake, please be fake. yet, in the back of your head you knew damn well it wasn’t.

there was a plaguing thought within you, one that’s so destructive and degenerative that you hated the fact you thought this way. but it wasn’t like you could help it. insecurity was a troublesome venom that coursed through your veins everyday and there didn’t seem to be an antidote to your own self-destruction.

you loved them both, but you weren’t entirely sure if you had enough love to give for the both of them, let alone one. iwaizumi and bokuto’s feelings confused you to the core. you broke their hearts, yet how could they still love you so dearly?

you didn’t know the answer nor did you have time to even find it.

the film crew stayed in los angeles for two weeks and filmed over the course of that time period. days were filled with twelve hour shoots and a tight film schedule. being the author of the work itself, you were a major part of the production alongside the director. he trusted your vision and you’d often find yourself staying on set the entire day while kaori and the rest of the ddd team felt like they were on vacation. your only free time during that time was the ten minute holy grails in between takes that you were able to check social media.

you simply didn’t have the time to think about them. and yet they were like haunting ghosts that followed you relentlessly. every time you checked twitter or instagram, you would see every post, every tweet, every story. all of which would send your heart spiraling and tugging.

you missed them. but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it. you couldn’t possibly strike up conversation with any of them after completely ignoring their calls and texts for weeks. you had to have an odd amount of audacity to do that, and you simply didn’t have the guts to do so. if anything, the only lasting form of communication between you and the boys was the ringing notification that you liked each other’s posts.

it was quite the sad reality.

the film set then transferred to new york city, where the next two weeks would be filled with yet another plethora of twelve hour work days. fortunately for you, the rest of the ddd team were pulling a bit more of their weight, helping you on the creative side of things, yet still having the time to do all the fun touristy things whilst in the city.

you could remember the way your heart lit up seeing iwaizumi and bokuto’s names beneath who saw your story. it was a video of you and your team at the lady liberty statue. in it, kaori and yuko were chomping down on gigantic $2 street hot dogs, sugawara was yelling at semi for getting in the way of his film camera, while akaashi was complaining that the wind kept knocking down his green lady liberty hat.

it was strange thinking how fast things can change. within the first week, you were always up for an adventure in the city when the days were filled with work, but as the week progressed, your social meter decreased more and more.

loneliness hit you then. it was a peculiar type of loneliness, the type that you felt alone despite being surrounded by your closest friends and working on your dream project. you figured you were just homesick the way everyone else was getting all ready for a night out going bar hopping while you sat in the living room of your hotel room in your pajamas.

“are you sure you don’t want to come with us, (y/n)?” kaori asked you, concern washing over her slightly as you flickered her a tired look.

you shook your head, a small smile of gratitude melting upon your lips. “no, you guys go on ahead and have fun.”

your friends could only give you a look. they knew why you were being like this and they knew damn well it wasn’t homesickness. semi specifically threw you a look that’s meant to be teasing and oddly persuasive. “it’s been over a month, this can be a chance for you to finally meet someone new!” he exclaimed optimistically.

what was stopping you, anyway? it was clear nothing was, yet you still held yourself back. homesickness couldn’t possibly be to reason for it either. why are am i being like this?

“it’s okay, i’m with akaashi,” you decline once more, “he’ll keep me company.”

“alright then, join us once you feel like moving on.” says yuko with a hint of venom in her tone. you couldn’t blame her for saying that though as it was the harsh reality of it all.

your friends filed out the door, closing it in a thud and once again you felt alone. isolated as if you were in a void of your own silent thoughts that even the loud murmurs coming from the television wasn’t enough to drown out your shallow inhibitions.

the night continued on like this for a few hours. eating snacks in the dark living room with the remote in your hand, flipping channels every five minutes as your running thoughts couldn’t keep your attention span still. it felt like you were missing something, a part of yourself that you couldn’t exactly pinpoint. you thought of all of the possibilities why you felt like there was a void in your heart, yet the only thing you could properly convince yourself on was that you just missed home. but was that really all that you had missed?

you thoughts are interrupted by steps approaching you. akaashi walks into the living room, flicking on the switches and causing you to grimace at the bright lights. your eyes stung slightly as they adjusted from being in the dark for too long.

“where are you going?” you ask akaashi as you noticed his dressed up attire.

“i got done with all the paperwork and emails,” he answers while he fixes the collar of his dress shirt, “i’m deciding to have some fun tonight with the rest of the group. are you still up for it? i’ll wait for you to get ready if you want.”

the thought occurred within you that you should agree. that the possibility of this unexplainable feeling of isolation you were feeling would disappear if you were to just say yes and go. but as self-destructive as you were on yourself, you continued to hold yourself back—hesitant and always second guessing your actions.

you open your mouth slightly, but you ultimately just shook your head no.

akaashi lets out a sigh. he was genuinely hoping you would come around sooner or later. granted, it had been over a month since you guys left japan and he figured you would be over everything by now, but that obviously wasn’t the case. “you might be receiving a call soon... i suggest you should answer it.”

confusion flushed over your expression, giving him a strange look. but before you could even utter a single question to him, akaashi was already up and out the door.

he left you in a wake of curiosity for the rest of the night. it was nearing one in the morning and you still hadn’t yet received a phone call. it honestly sounded incredibly ominous that you grew a tad bit nervous. there were only so many possibilities on who would call, but it would actually infuriate you if akaashi was just joking around. but then again, akaashi isn’t the type to play something childish like that unless it was kaori or semi’s idea. regardless, the thought kept you awake as you eyes practically weighed like cinder blocks at this point.

you couldn’t believe you wait for two hours for a phone call that might not even happ—it shocked you at first, the ringing of your obnoxious ring tone and the buzzing of the vibrations on the table.

furrowing your brows as you reached over, a gasp left you the moment you read the contact name. your slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your shock. your hand shook from the growing bundle of nerves in your gut as you hesitate.

the name ‘kou’ shined brightly against your face, coaxing you to answer as if your thumb wasn’t frozen the accept button. out of all the possibilities on who would be calling you tonight, it just had to be him. it wasn’t like you opposed talking to bokuto. if anything, you had spent countless of sleepless nights wondering if you should finally answer that text of his. yet no matter how many different messages you have typed, none of them ever saw the light of day. a hurricane of stupid conversation starters and ice breakers swarmed in your head, all messy and disorganized that if you didn’t just suck it up and answered, you would’ve probably missed a chance to reconnect with him.

fuck it, you thought as you accepted the call.

“(y/n)!” bokuto called out to you, sending your heart running thousands of miles an hour. it had been ages since you heard your name come out of his mouth, “how’ve you been? a little birdy told me you needed a little company.”

you had to hold yourself back from smiling too much as you could already feel your cheeks ache. you wanted to scoff and perhaps groan at the sudden embarrassment of what akaashi could’ve told him. “bo—” you started, but is immediately cut off.

yet another familiar voice emitted from bokuto’s line, almost as if they were shouting, “you’re supposed to say that i’m here too, idiot!”

the volleyball player chuckles, “oh sorry, iwa-chan! here.” muffles and cups clanking against each other travel through to line to what you assume is bokuto handing his phone over to iwaizumi.

“uh... hi.” his voice sounded deeper than usual.

“hi iwa, how have you been?” you chuckle, finding his sudden shyness absolutely adorable.

“good, good. i’ve uhh... missed you.”

“i do too.”

“yeah, yeah, you miss me most though right?” bokuto’s loud voice thunders through the call.

the juxtaposition of how daftly different they were was something you could never get enough of. perhaps it was at that moment you finally understood your loneliness through their bickering. you were in fact homesick, but the home that you were thinking of wasn’t what you were missing the most. you suppose the home you missed was them. they were your home.

you let out an amused laugh, “right.”

“that’s good because iwaizumi and i should be mad at you for ghosting us for the past month, but we understand since akaashi explained to us already.”

your eyes suddenly widen into saucers, panicking what he could have possibly said. “what did he tell you?”

“everything,” bo sings.

you audibly groan in embarrassment, throwing your head back onto the couch in retaliation. you were glad they couldn’t see how flushed and red your cheeks were right now as they even extended out to the tips of your ears.

“you know it would’ve been easier to say that you love the both of us and didn’t want to choose right?” iwaizumi points out in between your panic.

“exactly!” cuts in bokuto, “besides we don’t sharing you, you know. who knew you were such a prude, (y/n).” you could practically hear the smirk in his voice as you couldn’t stop the heat from spreading any further from your face.

now you were really glad they weren’t able to see you at that moment. if they did, you would’ve died from the embarrassment then and there. “give me a break, i was too embarrassed to ask,” you mutter, fearing that they could hear how fast your heart was beating through the call.

“ask what?” iwaizumi teases, “ask if you could date the both of us?”

you were internally screaming at this point. everything that you didn’t think was going to happen, happened all within five minutes and you honestly couldn’t believe it. you were pinching yourself as if you were in a dream, yet no matter how hard you squeezed, this was actually happening. “shut up!” was all you could say.

“even if you did ask... it’s not like we could ever say no to you, (y/n).” says bokuto, his words so enticing that you weren’t sure if you’re heart can handle any more of this.

his words left you absolutely speechless. you honestly didn’t know what to say at this point.

"i’m fine with it and bokuto’s fine with it.” iwaizumi says, “it’s just a matter if you’re willing.”

bokuto then leans forward towards his phone, “so what do you say, (y/n)?”

you swallowed the lump of nerves forming into your throat as the one question you never thought you would ever be asked was right in front of you. and yet you still hesitated despite everything that had just happened. you loved them both, so why weren’t you answering?

a few beats of silence passed before your gained the courage to push out the the very words, “... i’ll think about it.”

“boo! that’s lame!” bokuto shouts.

“i’ll give you guys an answer when i get back home.” you add, hoping to ease the disappointment they were probably feeling at that very moment.

“that won’t be for another few months, though.” iwaizumi deadpans that you could practically see the pout on both of their faces. “but we’ll promise to wait for you, (y/n).”

and so they waited for you to come back home, but you never did. schedules misaligned even when you were finally back home in tokyo. bokuto was getting progressively more busy now that the olympics were coming up and iwaizumi was just as busy, if not busier with the amount of athletes he had to take care of. there was even a constant flying back and forth from tokyo to los angeles for the film, all of which lasted for a few weeks at a time and you swear your couldn’t catch a break.

this went on for months with the only contact between you and the boys were from texting and phone calls that ended up shorter than you anticipated. and now a year had past since you left and this very movie premiere would be the first time you have seen iwaizumi and bokuto for the first time in a year.

this was so ironic how this all played out. you haven’t even realized you already reached the end of the red carpet when an interviewer calls out your name, microphone in hand and a camera pointed directly at your face.

“ms. (y/l/n)!” the woman shouts over the ruckus of snapping photos and other interviewers asking questions to the actors behind you. “there has been rumors going around about your dating life. are you dating msby’s bokuto koutarou or their athletic trainer iwaizumi hajime, who has been getting a lot of attention from stan twitter just recently! could you share some insight on your live life as love cemetery’s creator?”

“um,” you start, not sure how to answer the question as you nervous chuckled, “that’s a secret i’m afraid i can’t tell.”

before the woman could ask you any other questions, you walked away from the carpet and rushed towards the banquet hall. thankfully, akaashi and kaori was nearby and gratefully took your place in the interview without a second thought.

you let out a relieved sigh as much of the noise from the premiere died down as the only people inside the banquet hall were movie critics, the film crew, and other celebrities who were invited. by now, no one in this room would have the audacity to ask you such a personal question which caused weights to fall off your shoulder. you honestly should be used to those types of questions right now as a webtoon author that literally writes romance, but it always catches you off guard when you least expect it. honestly, you were just glad you didn’t slip up.

as a small little reward for yourself, you grab a flute of champagne from the refreshment table, decorated all fancy that you even hesitated to mess up the display. you turn around to face the growing crowd of mingling individuals, talking and laughing amongst each other as you sipped your drink gently. but as you watch you feel a presence on either side of you, both of which sent your heart soaring and a smile to appeared on your cherry colored lips. you didn’t even have to look them up and down to see how handsome they both looked. to think they were all yours.

“so what did you tell that interviewer?” bokuto asks nonchalantly as if he could just get away from a proper greeting. you were surprised he didn’t just engulfed you into his arms then and there.

instead, you opted to play along, “about what?” you tested with a smirk.

“the question about who you’re dating,” iwaizumi adds in from your other side.

you shrug, taking a sip of your champagne, “you guys probably wouldn’t like the answer i gave her.” you could feel the brazen stares bokuto and iwaizumi were giving each other—competitive and oddly provoking.

“she probably said she was dating me,” bokuto hums in response, confidence radiating off him that it caused you to scoff.

“i doubt it,” debates iwaizumi, giving him the same energy. “she probably said she was dating me.”

“actually,” you cut in before the two could possibly start bickering with each other, “i remember specifically saying that i’d thinking about it.”

the boys give you a look, downing their drinks as if they were like the shots they swallowed many nights ago at that bar. it was as if they were trying to win your over again like your feelings had changed since then.

“oh yeah?” bokuto starts, inching closer towards you while iwaizumi rested his arm on the table behind you.

“so what do you think, (y/n)?” says iwaizumi.

they both towered over you, just inches away from your body, but you didn’t cower or back away. if anything there was a playful smirk inevitably resting upon your lips.

now this, was going to be fun.

fun facts! —

sugawara has five rolls of film he had to get developed once they wrapped filming in osaka, each roll is from each city they went to for filming

iwaizumi and bokuto became really close friends when y/n left for la as they bonded over getting ghosted

bc of this,, bokuto posted a pic of him and iwa on his instagram and it got lots of attention that iwa went viral on stan twitter

taglist: (closed!)

@moonlightaangel @elianetsantana @k4tiepie @memorableminds @wheeshllumi @suhkusa @kitsunetea @airybby @noeminemi @truly-a-snitch @keichan @cosmicmermaid25 @bap-kingdom @saturnfarie @kwdflash @ennos-baby @dinablossom @chrisrue15 @seikamuzu @nestlevanilla @chasekudo @yammmers @pixcldust @iwaizluv @h0ngh0ngh0ng @emogrils @tiredandkindaoverworked @tsumue @underratedmage @bokutosuwus @kellesvt @unstableye @oh-tapeworm @scrappyfka @alittlebitofrain @mxngy @tpwkatsumu @atsumuwoah @macchiatoast @dicerawr @kageyamasbabygorl @some-random-stranger-007 @vhskenma @wntrmn @little-plants @stargirlara @kissungjae @je11yfishwriter @sbaepsae @apollochjld

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto scenarios #bokuto imagines #bokuto smau #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi imagines #iwaizumi smau

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itsclydebitches · 3 years ago

Note

re: that ask you posted a couple days ago about the male and female representation in RWBY, part of what makes RWBY's whole 'girl power' thing ring exceptionally hollow to me is the fact that there are like... no women in positions of real power in remnant. like at all. except the big bad.

winter is second in command to james. glynda is second in command to ozpin. all of the headmasters are men (for no discernible reason, imo; why theodore and not dorothea?). the leader of the ace ops was a white man (and then winter seemed to take over clover's position instead of either of the women of color on the team, and she was still second to james). RWBY is an all girl team, but JNPR was led by a boy despite a girl arguably being far more qualified (pyrrha). the happy huntresses are all women, and robyn had no real power to speak of--she didn't even manage to win the election, because jacques rigged it, and then the council ceased to matter. there was one (1) woman on the council, but she was so inconsequential that i can't even remember her name. (i suppose we're lucky it was the guy and not her who james shot lol) jacques controls the SDC instead of willow, even though he's not even a schnee by blood and actually married into the family for power. (and we don't even know how he got it over his wife.)

and then there's the white fang, which ghira led and not kali--and it's ghira who leads menagerie itself, while kali seems to be a housewife. sienna had five minutes of screentime before being brutally killed and her position assumed by adam, a man. cordovin is basically a one off lackey we haven't even thought about before or since. neo was second to roman. you have cinder, sure, who is a second but to salem, a woman, and raven as the leader of the branwen tribe--but what does it really say about your 'girl power' narrative when the only women with genuine systemic power in your world are villains or antagonists with massive bodycounts??

atla has the same sort of problem--a couple great female characters, but all the leadership positions are men (except the kyoshi warriors, an all girls group, and even then the leader of their island is an old man) and the one female mentor figure also turns out to be evil--but it at least has some great writing to help overlook that fact, and it came out in the mid-00's and so has some sort of excuse of being a product of its time. but rwby didn't even start until 2013 and it's still going and still making these kinds of decisions well into 2021.

where is this supposed girl power, exactly? am i really supposed to overlook the very patriarchal worldbuilding just because the title characters are girls?

That's an excellent summary of the situation, anon, and as with so much in RWBY, it comes down to the full context. Any one of these examples isn't necessarily going to mean much on its own. It's when you look at the pattern that you can start making a case for those conclusions: Why is the show marketed on "girl power" set in a world where men hold the vast majority of that power? And, more importantly, why is that setup not the point? We could easily have a story where that lopsided gender dynamic is the problem that the girls are looking to fix, but... that story doesn't exist. Like the problems discussed with Jaune, the supposed point here exists only on the surface. Dig just the tinniest bit — the above — and you hit on a lot of structural problems with this "girl power" world.

To add just a few details to what you've already said:

Salem indeed has power, but she's never allowed to fully use it. Each volume the frustration with this grows as Salem accumulates more abilities and then just sits on them. From literally hiding out for a thousand years to worries that she won't use the Staff in Volumes 9-10, Salem really isn't allowed to be the threat she's presented as on the surface. And yes, this is absolutely due in part to the "She's too OP and the writers don't know how to let her be that powerful while still having the heroes win" issue, but again, context. That problem doesn't exclude others occurring simultaneously.

Same double explanation with Summer. Yes, dead moms are an incredibly common trauma to dump on a protagonist, but it still left Yang and Ruby with Tai as their primary influence. And Qrow. The uncle becomes the extended family influence while Raven is the absent one/eventual antagonist. It's personal power as opposed to political power, but Tai, Qrow, Ozpin, formerly James... most of the mentors are men. Maria, a key exception, has been ignored in that regard. The story announced that she was Qrow's inspiration, setup her being Ruby's new mentor, and then... nothing. Nothing has come of that. She disappeared for a volume and then went off to Amity and was literally forgotten by the story when evacuating everyone was the finale's whole point.

Like that Endgame moment I mentioned, the Happy Huntresses feel a little too forced to me. Yes, it's the same basic idea as in ATLA, but ATLA, as you say, has a lot more going for it. The Happy Huntresses feel... on the nose? Idk exactly how to explain it. Like, "Here they are! Another team of all women! Isn't this how progressive storytelling works? Just ignore how this is a one-off team of minor characters compared to the world building issues discussed above." And if you're not paying attention, you miss just how insignificant they are, with a side of Robyn being, well, Robyn. The Kyoshi Warriors, at least, are based off of Kyoshi. A woman avatar who is a significant part of their history. That is, presumably, why they're an all women warrior group (but who notably still teach Sokka). The Happy Huntresses are all huntresses because...? There's no reason except that meta "We want to look progressive" explanation. Just like having all the women superheroes team up for a hot second so people get excited and ignore the representation problems across, what? 21 films? Don't get me wrong, I love that May is among the Happy Huntresses. I think including her in the explicitly all-women group was one of the better things RWBY has done in a long time, but the rest is still a mess.

RWBY is arguably about these smaller groups as opposed to systematic power (despite the writers trying to work that in with things like the White Fang and the election. Not to mention the implication that everything in Atlas is fine now that evil Ironwood has died and taken the symbol of wealth (the city) with him. We saw a human holding hands with a faunus after all. Racism and corruption solved, I guess.) So yes, our group is dominated by women... but Whitley is the one saving Nora, helping to defeat the Hound (plus Willow), thinking of the airships, and providing the blueprints they need to escape. Salem is our Big Bad, except Ironwood is the one the volume focuses on. Ruby is our leader, but Jaune is the one leading the group into the whale and getting praised for how heroic he is. Ren does more to shake things up, even if he's painted as the one in the wrong. Oscar gets to confront Salem and destroys the whale threat. Ozpin provides the information they need to evacuate. Meanwhile, when the girls do things in Volume 8 it's almost always followed by a long-stint of passiveness. Nora opens the door so she can be unconscious for most of the volume. Penny keeps Amity up so she can also be unconscious for a good chunk of time. Ruby sends her message and then sits in a mansion. Blake fights so she can tearfully beg Ruby to save her. Weiss, as said, takes a backseat to Whitley (and Klein). They forward the plot, absolutely, but comparatively it doesn't feel like enough.

It's that pattern then, no one specific example. More and more the personal power, not just the systematic power already built into Remnant, seems to be coming from the men. Not all the time, but enough that scenes like the tea drinking moment feel like a part of a much larger problem. Pietro taking control, Watts hacking, and Ambrosius literally remaking her when Penny is supposed to already be in control of herself and her fate. Winter being presented as the active mentor to Weiss, only to turn around and claim that Ironwood was actually responsible for everything. Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and May straight up commenting on how awful things are out there while Yang, Jaune, Ren, and Oscar lead the charge against Salem — with the latter three doing the most to forward that mission (no fear, semblance, cane). As others have only half-joked, Yang's supposedly badass moment was bringing up a mother she's ignored for six volumes and briefly blowing up the immortal woman for a couple of seconds (with Ironwood's bombs). Even Marrow is arguably the most significant Ace Op after Clover. Vine isn't actually a character, Elm slightly less so, Harriet is there to go crazy and try to drop a bomb (notably before admitting to never-before-existed feelings for Clover), but Marrow? He's the one who breaks out. Who is meant to heroically stand up against Ironwood. Who comments on how awful it is that teenagers are fighting and, regardless of how messed up the moral messages are, is supposedly pushing for active change while all the women in his group, including Winter, insist on maintaining the status quo. Look at all these choices as a whole, it makes throwaway worldbuilding choices like "All the Maidens are women" feel pretty hollow. Why does it matter if Amber is a Maiden if she dies in a flashback so Ozpin can struggle to pass on the power? If Pyrrha dies before becoming one so Jaune can angst about it? If Raven is one and then disappears from the story entirely? If Winter has enough power to break Ironwood's aura, but supposedly had no power throughout every other choice she made getting here? If Penny is one, but is continually controlled by men and then asks another man to help her die? It's just really unconvincing, once you look past the surface excitement of a woman looking cool with magic powers.

When you do consider the whole of the story — both in terms of our world building and who is forwarding the plot in the latter volumes, getting the emotional focus, being proactive, etc. — there are a lot of problems that undermine the presumed message RT wants to write. They say, "girl power" by marketing RWBY with these four women, but too many of the storytelling decisions thoroughly undermine that, revealing what's likely a deeply ingrained, subconscious bias.

#rwde #rwby #mymetas

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mymelodyheart · 4 years ago

Text

Miles Between Us Chapter 15 ~Etched On Wood~

Previously in The Element of Surprise

Annalise perked up at Claire's feeble attempt to sound less grumpy. "Har de har har! I didn't realise you could be funny before coffee. A total package for a marauding pirate if I may say so."

"Tell that to Captain Beard," she mumbled, getting out of bed.

"Aye, matey!" Annalise mischievously winked. "That's if he happens to be in Isle of Harris this weekend. Which is where, by the way, we're going, as in, now! So get packing!"

Claire stilled and shook her head. "Wot?" She began to shake her head, tugging the covers around her as she made her way to the dresser. "Oh no, no, no! I'm not leaving this place for any man or woman, including you, blondie! I've got a pile of work to do. You know I have deadlines."

"Oh no, you don't. You stop right there, missy! Have you forgotten you agreed with Jamie to take a weekend break?"

Claire's eyes widened. "Oh, did he also tell you how he got me to agree?"

"No. But you can tell me later on the plane."

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

Claire stood in the quaint wonderland of whisky, gin and assorted spirits, also known as The Island Spirit Whisky Shop. One side of the store was given over to the whiskies, while numerous craft gins and spiced rums were on the other. Absently, she touched one of the bottles of liquid gold, mentally calculating how many bottles she could fit in her small luggage to bring back as presents. When she heard laughter, she glanced up to find Annalise sampling a dram with the owner, effectively ending her dithering and opting to grab just a bottle of single malt in front of her instead. They'd just arrived in Stornaway over an hour ago and decided to put her gift shopping spree on hold .

Annalise raised a whisky glass and winked. "You better start getting busy. Our driver isn't going to hang around and wait for us all day. Found anything you like?"

Claire approached her friend and showed the bottle. "Aberfeldy, sixteen years old. For us tonight."

"Very nice. Glad to see you warming up to this trip for a change. How long has it been since you last checked your phone for Jamie's message?"

"Five minutes," she replied, scrunching her nose at Annalise for bringing up the sore subject. She handed the bottle and her credit card to the shop owner before facing her friend. "I've sent Jamie a message, and he hasn't replied yet. He's got some explaining to do ...sending me away like this with too little notice." She let out an unladylike grunt. "Why can't our men be here? We're in a beautiful location ...romantic even ..." She waved a hand in the air to prove a point. "I don't understand why you're not so bothered not spending time with your boyfriend when you rarely see him, and you're only here until Monday."

"Oh, poor us girls! Without our men! God help us!"

Claire fought a smile. "Hey, now, if I recall correctly, I had to listen to you moan endlessly about not seeing Willie enough. What was that again, you said just a week ago over the phone?" She tapped her chin and pretended to go through her memory bank. "You can't stand living without him."

"Correction, missy. I told you I couldn't stand living on my own in London. Which means I'm not used to not having you around."

"Ah, my mistake. Must have misheard that part." Annalise snorted a laugh and went to grab a bottle of gin from the shelf, leaving Claire once again to thoughts of Jamie. Any day now, John would summon her back to London, probably with Mary Hawkins and Tom Christie in tow. Though she dreaded going back, she'd placated those thoughts by telling herself she'd be moving to the Highlands soon.

Despite the valuable inroads to their relationship, Claire wondered if she would have given up London and her job so soon, supposing that Jamie hadn't had PTSD. Would their relationship have moved this fast? She immediately quelled that thought because deep down, she knew in her heart whatever their circumstances might have been, they would have chosen to be together whether it was too soon or not.

She glanced once more at her phone, inwardly debating whether to call Jamie or not. What the hell is he up to? She hadn't heard a peep from him since she'd left the cottage. Something was definitely up, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"So, this work of yours is moving along fast. I bet you can't wait to start your life in the Highlands with your love, no less. So, what's the plan? Are you and Jamie buying a bigger property together, or will you be staying in the cottage to see how the relationship pans out?"

"His cottage for now. As for what lies ahead, we haven't talked about that far into the future yet."

"Quite right. Future planning is tedious, anyway. It's pretty obvious you and Jamie are meant to be together, no matter what. I saw it coming from a mile away. The way he looks at you ...you can literally see smoke coming out of his ears." Annalise comically waggled her eyebrows as she eyed the other sample bottles on the counter.

"Well, since we're talking about the future and wotnots," Claire began, lowering her voice, "I have been doing a lot of thinking myself. For starters, I want to have Jamie's babies one day."

Annalise's eyes widened.

She frowned. "Wot?"

"Babies?"

"Yes, babies." When Annalise continued to stare at her, Claire groaned. "Not now, though, silly! Our relationship might be going at full speed, but God ...I have other plans in mind before that happens."

"Yes, I get that ...but ...but have you and Jamie talked about babies?"

Claire gave the store owner an apologetic smile and pulled Annalise into the alcove by the window. "No. As I said, we haven't talked anything about the future. What's wrong with you? I know it's too early to be talking about babies, but everyone knows where our relationship is heading to. Eventually, somewhere down the line, starting a family would be the next step. Or did you think my move to the Highlands is experimental?"

"No! Of course not! It's not that ... it's..."

"It's wot?"

"I, ah ...the babies part."

"Jesus, Annalise, what's your fret about babies?"

"There's no fret!"

"What is it then?"

"I, ... I'm not sure if I should be the one telling you this, but ..."

"Tell me wot?"

"I thought you knew because why else would Jamie ..."

"Know what? For God's sake, spit it all out! It quite apparent you know something."

Annalise shook her head and sighed. "It's something Willie told me. It was right after when Jamie started to remember bits and pieces about his past. Willie thinks Jamie may have been deeply affected by what he'd learned. You know ...him witnessing your parents' death and you becoming an orphan at such a young age." She puffed out a breath. "Jamie confided to his brother that ...he doesn't want to have children because he doesn't think he'd be able to bear it if they would go through something as horrible as what you've both been through. I know that's not really Jamie talking, and I understand those fears are coming from a place brought about by his condition. Maybe it's something both of you should talk about. I thought Jamie might have already mentioned it."

Claire paused for a few heartbeats, absorbing Annalise's words. Should I be worried? A part of her knew it was his PTSD symptoms amplifying those fears in Jamie's head. The other part, she wasn't too sure. But he'd made so much progress, she thought. She waved a hand in dismissal and let out a humourless laugh. "Oh ... don't worry about it. I'm pretty sure Jamie didn't mean to say that in its entirety. You know how men are like ...they tend to have reservations about children and stuff like that in the beginning. Besides, he understands how his condition affects his reasoning, decisions and emotions. He's very aware of that. He told me so. So him saying not wanting to have children is not a projection of what's truly in his heart." She gave her friend a reassuring smile even though a smidge of uncertainty was starting to creep in. "Jamie and I are in love," she said with all the conviction she could muster. "And we've proven that with love, we can achieve anything. As for his current views about not having children, they will eventually change. After what he's been through, it's understandable he'd be worried about history repeating itself. He's slowly but surely recovering, and as soon as the new therapist arrives, it can only get better from there. I'm quite sure of it"

"Claire ..."

"There's nothing to worry about," she said firmly this time.

Annalise grabbed her hand. "Claire ...I have no doubt that he loves you. Even a blind man can see that. But think about this. What if ...what if he can't give you what you want? I mean babies. That's what you want one day, isn't it?" When Claire nodded, she continued. "You should talk to Jamie about your dreams of having children one day before moving here to Scotland. I don't want you to invest your time and emotion in a relationship that will probably end in regrets. I like Jamie, and I love you, and I love the love you have for each other. But I don't want to see the both of you hurt ...just because you failed to see each other eye to eye. Please promise me you'll talk about this with Jamie before turning your life upside down and moving here to Scotland and start playing house. There's a lot at stake here, Claire. Please, just talk to him. At least you know if you're both on the same page or not."

"Fine. I'll talk to Jamie. But under one condition." Annalise nodded in response. "If we're going to have this break together, promise me to refrain from any more baby talks."

"You started it."

Claire sighed. "Yes, I did," she admitted. "But it ends now."

"Alright, but I'm only going to say one more thing and then we can go back to holiday mode." Annalise made a broad gesture. "I can see that our little talk rattled you a bit. And don't you dare deny it!" When Claire shrugged and made a gesture to carry on, she proceeded. "I just want you to know, despite the uncertainties you may be harbouring right now, ...thanks to my big mouth, nothing changes the fact that Jamie loves you. I'm sure after you've talked, you'll arrive at some compromise about this baby thingy."

Despite herself, Claire laughed out loud and rolled her eyes. "Holy hell, we sure are a bizarre duo, aren't we? Poor Jamie. Here we are talking about babies when he probably hasn't even thought about marriage. If he could hear us talk right now, he'll probably put me on the next flight to London."

Annalise looked at her sheepishly. "Or perhaps not. Shall we get going?"

She raised a dubious eyebrow at her friend. "Hey. What's that look for?"

Annalise wandered back to the check-out counter, laughing. "That was my wise, venerable sage look. You like?"

"No, knock it bloody off!"

..........

Jamie pressed the cold pack against his throbbing eye and tried unsuccessfully to tamp down his irritation at Quentin. Stood in the cottage's open space lounge, which comprised the kitchen and dining area, he turned away to face one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. For the first time, he noticed the stunning vistas before him. Looking out to the south, there's the view of the village and valley, and the west the vast, beautiful beach, and to the north, the rolling hills. Under normal circumstances, he would have enjoyed the sceneries, but the crunching sound of Quentin's meat mallet on walnuts might as well have been a tree stump grinder splintering his skull.

"Do ye mind?" Jamie muttered, turning around to glower at Claire's uncle. "That godawful sound is making my headache worse."

"Stop whingeing." Quentin didn't bother to glance up from the chopping board on which he seemed resolved to make continuous head-splitting rackets. "Because of you, I haven't eaten all day. What kind of boys' trip is this anyway? There's no food or booze except for the bottle of expensive champagne... these walnuts ...and that ..." He jutted his chin at the fruit basket and shook his head in disgust. "Sorry I can't accommodate your headache." He watched the walnut shell fly across the counter when his mallet hit the chopping board. "As for the black eye, I'm sorry about that too."

Willie chuckled from behind his open newspaper as he lifted his feet to rest them on the coffee table. "Everyone will now think Claire dropped one on ye. How did it happen again? I didnae quite catch the whole story since both of ye were too busy grumbling at one another when I arrived."

Jamie glared with one eye. "As ye've already gathered, Quentin did this." He pointed his index finger at the evidence and adjusted the cold pack with a free hand. "And I cannae for the life of me understand why it was supposed to be a good thing."

"I told you already ...we had a bit of miscommunication," Quentin shot.

"Miscommunication?" Jamie sputtered, throwing a hand in the air in disbelief. He spun around and faced Willie. "I said to him if I start having one of my panic attacks on the ferry..."

"...you wanted to be knocked out," Quentin interjected.

"Jesus Christ! I never said that, and I wasnae having a panic attack. I was feeling queasy."

"Yes, so queasy he turned green," Quentin added, hammering the walnut with more force this time, making Jamie flinch at the offensive sound. "And here I thought he was having a panic attack. He never mentioned anything about being prone to seasickness. So when he started to act all weird on me, I decked him."

"On my eye of all places!" Jamie shouted, slamming the cold pack on the kitchen counter. "When I said I'd knock myself out, I meant I'd take my medication and sleep it off in the car." He pointed a finger to his eye. "Look at this ...I look like I participated in a pub brawl."

Willie glanced up before turning a page of the newspaper. "Aye, that ye do."

"Well, you should have told me more about your condition," Quentin stressed, pointing the mallet at him. "How was I supposed to know what a panic attack looks like?"

Jamie blew out a breath. "Even if it was a panic attack, what made ye think socking me on the eye is the answer?"

Quentin shrugged. "I guess I get panic attacks too, ...now there!" When Jamie turned away in frustration, he pressed on. "Look at the bright side ...I got rid of your seasickness and saved you from having a relapse."

"I told ye already I wasnae having a panic attack, and I havenae had one for some time now!"

"Hey, may I remind you that I offered to drive Claire and Annalise to the airport and fly in later as Willie did? Your brother would have been in a better position to deal with your condition. I know you wanted to talk more about that bloody bench, but ..." Quentin shook his head as if remembering something. "Say ...I still don't understand why we haven't gone altogether. All this palaver with keeping this whole thing a secret and Willie taking the next plane after dropping off the girls." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "Another thing, no one's told me yet where the girls were heading to."

Jamie gave his brother a warning cough.

Willie sighed and lowered his newspaper. "The lassies are somewhere having fun. Anyway, ye'll be getting yer wish granted. Ye'll be flying in my place when we return back to the mainland. Jamie told me CalMac ferries banned ye for a year."

Jamie bit back a smile at Willie's smooth change of subject.

"So Jamie told you." Quentin popped a walnut in his mouth. "Did he also tell you he didn't even try to explain to the police that it wasn't my intention to knock him out cold? That my intention was to help."

Jamie took a slow breath. "How could I? My head was still reeling from your punch. The police could only take in reports from eyewitnesses."

Quentin cast the mallet aside and flattened both hands on the counter. "All right, all right ....never mind that. What's done is done, and I apologised already." He paused for a few beats and frowned. "So ... what's happening now? Why are we sitting around in this cottage when we could be organising some grub and booze?"

"Just hang fire for a little bit more." Jamie took out his phone and pretended to fiddle with it. It was becoming more difficult to distract Quentin by the second, but he needed to do this right if his plan was going to work. "The landlord is supposed to stop by. It shouldn't be long now."

"Well ..." Quentin glanced at the wall clock. "If the landlord doesn't come anytime soon, I'm going to find the nearest pub. I'm starving. And don't tell me to eat fruits. I want a proper hot meal. And I need a drink after the morning we had."

Not happening! Jamie couldn't have him doing that. "Look, dinnae start lining yer imaginary shots just yet. Pubs open much later here. Maybe while we're waiting, ye can show me that bench we were talking about." He gave Quentin a meaningful look. "Remember? It's one of the reasons why we came here for. Ye've delayed it long enough bashing those walnuts."

Quentin lifted an eyebrow. "Can you blame me? If we'd eaten first, we wouldn't be having this discussion, and we could be looking at that bench already. As it stands, I have to settle for walnuts. Besides, can't the bench wait? You said this trip would be entertaining. And smashing walnuts is not my idea of entertainment."

Jesus, why does everything have to be difficult with this man?

Willie finally took pity on Jamie as he regarded them both with a mixture of impatience and amusement. "Look, I ken ye're both a bit on edge and didn't have a good start to the day." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "I know ye're hungry, Quentin, and I know yer eye's in pain, Jamie, but bickering at one another is no' gonnae help yer cause." He clasped his hands and gave Jamie a knowing look. "Why don't ye both go and look at that bloody bench while I wait here for the landlord. That way, we're getting something done. Fair enough?"

"Fine." Jamie and Quentin said simultaneously.

Willie's head briefly fell back, and he heaved a relieved exhale up at the ceiling. "Finally, they agreed on something."

Quentin ignored Willie and looked at Jamie. "Right, we might as well." He made a sweeping gesture with his arm. "If you'll follow me," he instructed before heading for the front door.

Jamie glanced at his brother, who just nodded and returned back to reading the newspaper. Rolling his head on his shoulders, he followed Quentin out of the house and to the back garden.

Halfway, Quentin glanced back at him. "So ...about that bench, you still remember this place?"

"Only vaguely," Jamie responded quietly, overcome with acute nostalgia as he began to take in his surroundings.

The last few nights, while Claire had been cooped up in the shed doing edits, he and Quentin had been trying to piece their history together, mostly to help Jamie understand the past. It had been a frustrating feat at best for Quentin, trying to unravel Jamie's memories as a toddler that they'd almost laid the past to rest. Until Jamie had mentioned a bench with engravings in a garden of a coastal retreat, he'd once visited as a wee bairn. To his astonishment, Quentin had immediately known the place. The more they'd talked about it, the more the memory of that day made sense and became vivid until an idea came to Jamie's mind ...to use this trip for his plan.

When they reached the back of the house, they came to a stop, and there in the middle of the freshly trimmed lawn was the bench. Fragmented images began to flood Jamie's brain, colliding together to form a vivid picture. As if being pulled by an invisible force, he made his way towards the seat. Laying a hand on the surface, he caressed the weather-worn wood, relying on his heart to know what to search for. When he found the familiar yet foreign carving, he knew he'd made the right decision to arrange this trip. "Here it is."

Quentin stooped down beside Jamie to take a better look. "Jesus, it is really here," he whispered. "Just as Henry told me." He glanced at Jamie. "And you remembered. How old were you when you were last here?"

Jamie sat on the bench and briefly squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, he took a deep breath. "At the most, I must have been four. It was summer. My ma needed a break from us boys, so Murtagh took Willie and me on a trip here to visit Harry. Jenny stayed behind. I cannae mind what Harry was doing here, but I do remember him showing me this when my godfather disappeared into the house." His fingers traced the engraving. "I never understood then what it meant when he read it out to me. He'd told me it was our wee secret."

"It was a secret, alright. Henry wouldn't have wanted Murtagh to know."

"Aye, I sort of caught the gist of it then even though I was too young to understand."

Quentin spoke with a distant look in his eyes. "Henry told me everything that happened that day and how it had been difficult for him to keep their trip here a secret from Julia. It was supposed to be a surprise."

Jamie couldn't help laughing out loud. He knew the feeling. "Aye, I can imagine," he replied, hoping Quentin would finally take the hint and see the real reason behind this trip.

"Did you know Henry had always wanted a son for his firstborn?" Quentin asked out of the blue. "Don't get me wrong, though. Claire was the light of his life, and he loved her. So much so, he would stare at her for hours while she slept. So Julia told me anyway. But he'd always said he wanted a son. I think it had something to do with him spending a lot of time with you and your brother during the summer, even before he met Julia." He smiled at Jamie. "He had fond memories of you and your brother, and it was very apparent from the stories he told me of you."

"A son," Jamie murmured, shifting on the bench as another memory popped up. "Aye, he'd mentioned something about wanting a son. He used to joke about having one, one day ...a strong lad like me were his words." He got up from his position and scoured the seat once more with his fingers and eyes, trying hard to remember where the other etching was. "I seem to recall myself asking Harry what if the baby turns out to be a girl. I cannae mind his reply, but he told me to pick a girl's name because he'd already had one for a boy. After I picked one, he carved both names we came up with on this bench ... it's here somewhere."

"Really?" Propping his specs on his nose, Quentin hunched over and began to search. "Can you remember the name you chose?"

He shook his head. "I probably came up with something daft ...like some cartoon character Jenny used to watch. "

"Or perhaps not." Quentin hunkered down, gliding his hand over the wooden surface of the edge of the bench. "Take a look at this." He stood up and took a step back to allow Jamie to see better.

What Jamie saw next took his breath away and only confirmed that niggling feeling in his guts. It hadn't been a misplaced memory nor a dream. He unseeingly watched Quentin squat down again to take a better look at the engraving, barely able to formulate words to express his emotions over the thoughts running through his head. Was this Harry's way of sending him a message ...a blessing of some sort? Or was it just some quirk in the universe, and everything had been purely coincidental? If it was the former, he'd been taken on a merry rough ride, and he could almost envision Harry's delight at his handiwork, watching them by the sidelines. Like Quentin, he was momentarily at a loss for words.

"You know, Henry's been gone for years," Quentin finally spoke after a long silence. "And it astounds me that you refer to him by his nickname with such familiarity. Only Julia called him Harry. As a matter of fact, now that I think of it, sometimes you talk about him as if he's still alive. You may have forgotten many of your memories of Harry, but it's quite obvious the special bond you had with him is still there, and it must have made an impact on your life."

Jamie almost laughed out loud. If only Quentin knew. He debated whether to say anything about Harry's mysterious appearances, but after a few indecisive heartbeats, he thought, bugger it. He might as well let the cat out of the bag. "Harry has appeared to me," he blurted rapidly before he could change his mind. "Numerous time. As solid and as real as we are standing here right now."

Quentin frowned. "What do you mean?"

Briefly, he filled Quentin in on the mystery that was Harry, from the first time the appearances began and everything in between and watched an array of expressions register on the older man's face. "I've only shared this story with Willie and Claire, and now ...you. It's not something I like to share with just anyone. But because ye're Harry's brother, I thought ye ought to know as well."

Quentin let out a low whistle. "That's some story. I don't know what to say. I've never believed in all these mumbo-jumbo spirit sightings, but ..." He let out a huge sigh. "...though your story is bizarre, strangely enough, I believe you. That night when you mentioned this place and this bench, I dreamt of Henry after. For the first time in years. He was sat right here, not saying a word. That's why I agreed to go on this trip. The notion that he may be trying to say something did occur to me and thought I might as well see this special place of Henry and Julia for myself."

Jamie let out an exhale of relief just as he saw Willie walking in their direction. His brother made a motion of tapping his watch, which could only mean one thing. He needed to make a move. Straightening up to his full body height, Jamie faced Quentin and cleared his throat. "Speaking about this place ..." He swallowed and braced himself. "I haven't been entirely honest with ye."

"Is that so?"

Willie came to stand beside them, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Jamie disregarded his brother's knowing smirk. "There's also another reason for this trip that I meant to tell ye."

Quentin muttered a curse. "You're going to tell me this isn't the all-lads trip you'd been going on about, is that it?"

"Aye ...no! I mean ..." He tunnelled impatient fingers through his hair. "What I meant to say is ...with everything falling into place ...Harry, the engravings on this bench a-and how our history are sort of intertwined together ...I -I thought ...right here and now would be a perfect time."

"Perfect time for?"

Jamie puffed out a breath. "Perfect time to ask for your blessing."

"Blessing for what?" Quentin's brow puckered, but by then, he knew Jamie well enough, and it only took a quick study of the situation to determine exactly what was going to be asked. Quentin's eyes widened at the realisation. "Holy hell, Jamie! Are you bloody kidding me? Is this what all this has been about?"

"It's been coming to this, cannae ye see it?" He worked to steady his voice. "Ye dreamt of Harry sat on this bench. That must mean something, and ye know it. Everything that's happened to me ...Claire coming to the Highlands ....those ..." He pointed at the bench. "...those engravings ....they didn't happen by chance. All of it has led to this day.."

"Jesus! I can't believe you're making me want to thump you a few hours after I just walloped you on the eye and apologised for it." He rolled up the sleeves of his top. "I was just beginning to warm up to you, lad. But it has to be done. It's a rule."

"Rule? What bloody rule?" He watched Quentin clenched and unclenched his fist. "Ye really are gonnae thump me, is that it?"

"Rule is rule," Willie murmured, watching them closely while sneaking glances at his phone. "But best get this settled soon because we dinnae have much time left."

"Time for what?" Quentin shot. "What the bloody hell is going on now?"

Jamie's patience was swiftly deteriorating. "Look, Quentin ...ye can thump me later, alright? I'll even offer ye my good eye. But right now, I need yer blessing."

Quentin laughed incredulously. "Listen, son, you don't get to schedule your own thumping."

That was the last straw. Whatever patience Jamie had left dissolved. There was no time for pussyfooting. He took two steps forward and brought his face close to Quentin's. The older man looked too shocked to react, so Jamie took advantage. "Listen to me, ye cantankerous ol' git. I tried being patient with ye because I know ye like me even if ye have a funny way of showing it. But this intent on giving me grief for whatever demented reason ye have and deriving joy out of it is bloody mental. So, I'm asking ye in the nicest possible way ...give me yer blessings. Ye're gonnae give it to me anyway. So cut out all this shite and give it to me now."

A tense silence between the men ensued, and they all stood stock-still waiting for each other to give in, and the only discernible sound to be heard was the waves crashing on the beach.

When the phone notification went off, Quentin and Jamie momentarily forgot their stand-off and whipped their attention to Willie. "So gentlemen, what is it going to be? It's nearly showtime."

Quentin's eyes narrowed. "Showtime?"

..........

"Òran na Mara," Claire read out loud as they drove past the hand-carved wooden sign. "Song of the sea. How very fitting."

"I think it's romantic," Annalise whispered in response, smiling at her from the passenger seat in front.

"Weel, here we are," the driver announced as they pulled into the driveway. "Welcome to yer home for the next few days."

Claire leaned forward to take a better look at the cottage with a thatched roof and stone wall. Though it retained its traditional features, the beautiful structure had all the subtle hallmarks of luxury, and she could tell it had been sympathetically modernised without compromising its original character. She smiled when she caught a glimpse of the white sand beach and the turquoise Atlantic ocean. "This is gorgeous, Annalise. Jamie's outdone himself with this surprise."

"He certainly has," Annalise grinned. "Shall we?"

They both hopped out, and while Annalise sorted out the driver, Claire could only stand there in awe of the surrounding. Everywhere she turned, there was something to look at - beaches, rolling hills, and islands on the horizon. She was so taken by the natural beauty around her, she didn't even notice the car drive away.

"Wait till you see inside. Jamie showed me pictures of the interior." Annalise walked up to the house and opened the wooden door, and Claire followed, hefting her luggage.

Inside was just as breathtaking as outside. "Wow," Claire breathed, admiring the views from the numerous windows. "This place is huge. There's probably enough room to accommodate ten people here. What are we going to do with all this space? The boys should have come."

Annalise just shrugged and smiled as she opened the glass door that led to the back garden overlooking the beach. "Why don't you go out and enjoy the view. There's a seat over there. I'll go and find us something to drink."

She stepped out of the cottage and sucked in a deep breath of salty air, and immediately felt at peace. Shading her eyes from the sun, she surveyed the curved bay of the beach and the peninsula in the backdrop. As far as she could see, there wasn't a soul in the area, nor were there passing cars to be heard, just the sound of nature, white sands and blue skies ahead. Oddly enough, the scenery uncannily reminded her of her mother's painting, which hung in her family home in Oxford, making her momentarily wonder if it was still there.

Sighing, she pulled out her phone and swiped the screen. There was still no message from Jamie. She decided it was no use pining over him when he must have spent a fortune sending her here to have some quality time with her best friend. He was thoughtful that way, even though sometimes to a fault. With a shake of her head, she shoved her phone back in her jeans, but something brought her up short as she made her way towards the bench. A familiar scent.

Before she could turn around to seek for the source, a pair of strong arms slid around her waist, soft, warm lips gliding along the back of her neck.

Exhilaration snapped in her veins. "Jamie," she breathed, turning around to wrap him in her arms. "You're here."

"I'm here," Jamie returned gruffly, his big hand rubbing circles on the small of her back. "Did ye really think I'd let ye out of my sight for a whole weekend when ye could be returning to London anytime soon?" He buried his face in the crook of her neck, nuzzling his nose against her skin.

"A part of me didn't think so." She tipped her head back and forced him to look at her. When his face came to view, she did a double-take. "Your eye! What happened?"

His lips twitched. "Dinnae fash, Sassenach. It's just a minor accident. So, do ye like yer surprise?"

Her lungs released the pent-up breath she was holding in a rush. "I love it and even more so now that you're here."

He smiled and took a moment to search her eyes before their mouths joined, warm hands cradling her face. His tongue parted her lips and stroked with the utmost tenderness in a slow, savouring kiss making her aware of their hearts pounding in unison.

"Sassenach ..." He trailed off to brush his lips against her temple. "Before anything else, there's something I have to show ye."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Another surprise?"

Tongue tucked into his cheek, he momentarily glanced over her shoulder before his gaze ticked back to hers. "I suppose ye can call it that. Have ye been here before?"

She noticed the immediate gravity in Jamie's expression as he kissed her brow. "No. I haven't. But I must admit this place does feel familiar."

"How so?"

"The views ...it reminds me of my mother's painting. She's probably been here at one point."

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "She was."

"She was? How do you know? Uncle Lamb told you?" she asked rapidly.

"Patience, woman! Too many questions all at once." He tugged her towards the bench, and when he let go, he stooped over the seat and ran a hand over the wooden surface. He glanced up at her and smiled. "Come here and take a look at this."

Claire did as she was told, and as she crouched down, her eyes landed on a string of words carved in what looked like a feeble attempt at calligraphy.

Henry and Julia - At the end, as at the start, through all the in-betweens, until the world stops spinning.

A choppy breath passed her lips as she ran her fingertips over the etchings. "It's my mum and dad."

"Aye."

"They were here." She stood up and looked around her, this time, trying to see the surroundings through their eyes. "It makes sense dad brought mum to this place. It's so romantic, and from stories I've been told, he was just ...that. And I can imagine my mum sitting here on this very spot, capturing the moment with her artwork." An intense wave of gratitude suddenly rose, almost making the moisture in her eyes spill. Jamie had done this for her because he knew, just like him, she was trying to put the pieces of her past together. "God, this is bloody insane. I wouldn't have seen this if we hadn't met."

"Ye want to hear the best part?"

She gave him a wobbly smile. "Go on then."

"Yer da proposed to your ma on this very bench."

She let out a soft expulsion of breath. Something expansive and extraordinary stirred within. It was as if, in this very moment, Jamie's revelation had taken back to her parents' past and was there to witness it. "I don't know what to say."

"The carvings on the bench was yer da's tribute to the day he proposed to yer ma."

"And you know this, how?" she asked quietly.

"Yer uncle and I put two and two together," Jamie explained, with a one-shoulder shrug. "I told ye ....some memories of my childhood have started to come back. Weel, this was one of them. When I mentioned to Quentin about how yer father showed me his handiwork on this bench when I was a wee lad, he'd figured this was the place Harry proposed. Yer father must have spoken of this place to yer uncle. I didnae understand any of it back then. I was too young. I wouldnae have realised the significance of it if I hadn't told Quentin about it. After some thoughts, I knew I had to come back and see it for myself just to prove I hadn't imagined any of it."

"But did you have to put me on a charter plane?" she softly admonished. "With Tom Christie? Are you mates with him now?"

"Tom is often hired to fly some goods to Stornoway for some restaurant. When I heard he'd be flying today, I thought it fitted perfectly with my plan. I must admit it pained me to ask him to take ye girls, but he was happy enough to sneak ye in."

"We could have flown here together."

"Aye, we could have." He took her hand in his and played with her fingers. "But I wasnae sure how I'd fare in the plane with my PTSD. Besides, I had a few personal businesses to attend to.

"Such as?"

He shook his head in amusement and kissed her lips, lingering there before drawing away. "Ye're distracting me, Sassenach and I still have something to show ye."

She heard Annalise's laughter coming from the cottage. "I presume Willie is here with you too."

"Your presumption is correct. Now stop asking questions and take a look at this." He pulled her towards the other end of the bench.

She sighed. "Alright, let's see it then."

Jamie let go of her hand and tapped a finger on the spot. "Take a look."

Claire leaned forward and read the inscription.

Jamie/Claire - the promise of greater things to come.

She frowned as confusion settled upon her. "What's this?" She traced the grooved marks of the words with a fingertip. "This has the same indentation as the other engraving. And it looks old. This couldn't have been recent."

"Yer da wrote it."

She straightened up. "Wot? But what does it mean?"

Jamie blew out a breath. "He wrote the names he would name his firstborn. He chose my name for a boy, and I got to pick yers."

Her eyes widened. "You picked my name?"

"Apparently," he grinned.

A laugh bubbled out of her. "God, so much to take in. Whatever next?"

"This." Jamie picked up a paper bag she hadn't noticed before by the bench and pulled out a padded envelope. "It's from yer workplace." He read the sender. "Dreamcatcher."

She sighed, still reeling from what Jamie just told her. "It's probably from John," she murmured more to herself as she took the envelope. She tore it open and was surprised when she pulled out its content and realised it was a children's book. "It's from Louise." When Jamie gave her a bland look, she sat down on the bench and stared at it. "She's a good friend of Annalise and a children's book author as well as an illustrator. I convince her to publish with Dreamcatcher when she showed me her work. I admitted to her a while back I wanted to be a writer. Every time our paths would cross, she'd asked me if I'd done anything about it. And every time I told her I was still working as an editor, she would give me a disappointed look." She smiled and shook her head. "I wonder why she sent this to me." Admiring the colourful print, she ran her hand over the cover. "What a talented woman."

"So ...what is the book about?"

Claire examined the book. "It's about The Unicorn and the Lioness," she answered, reading the title and leafing through the pages. As she suspected, each page was beautifully and colourfully illustrated. "Well, shall we see what we have here?" She opened it to the beginning and began to read aloud.

There once was a unicorn

That fell for a lioness.

She surprised him with her charm,

And her comeliness.

She grinned as she flipped the page. "Unusual pairing," she observed, making a face at Jamie. "...but hey ...the unusual ones tend to be the best."

She licked her lips and continued reading.

The two, you see,

Were from different worlds

So it made him wonder,

How'd it all unfurled?

"Ah ... makes me wonder too," she added softly. "This is getting interesting."

Jamie laughed, angling his body so he could also see the pictures.

In spite of their differences,

It was love at first sight.

Their feelings grew quickly,

Their hearts took to flight.

She smiled and turned to the next page.

The unicorn, his life,

Once troubled and scattered

Now calmed and on the mend

In all ways, that matter.

She glanced up at him and grinned. "Well, love heals, so they say," she remarked with a wink. "And love is all there is."

"Love is all there is," Jamie echoed with amusement.

She took a deep breath and resumed where she left off.

There were simply no words

For how lucky he'd become.

Without her by his side

Life would be hopelessly glum.

She paused for a beat as a peculiar inkling tugged in her guts. Swallowing the odd knot in her throat, she forced herself to say something. Anything! "We wouldn't want the unicorn feeling glum now, would we?" she managed, suddenly unable to draw breath.

"No," he replied. "A glum unicorn would be a tragedy."

Oh, lordy, lordy! Is this what I think what's happening? She took a fortifying breath and lifted the next page with a shaky hand.

It's hard to believe

Just how happy they were.

He could not conceive

Even one day without her.

"Happy is good," she squeaked, working her throat to be heard.

"Happiness is always a good choice ...grab it while ye can," he returned quietly.

Unable to get a grip of her runaway thoughts, a dull pounding began in her chest, gradually accelerating and drowning out the noise in their surrounding, portraying the moment with a dreamlike quality. She peered up at Jamie. Underneath his handsome exterior, she could see he was anxious, the lines around his mouth more noticeable than usual. The bruise on his eye, as much as she didn't believe it resulted from an accident, added a mixture of masculinity and vulnerability. God, I love this man! She wanted to stand up and hug him and let him know she knew where he was going with this. But now was not the time to ease his anxiety. She needed to pull herself together to see through what Jamie had probably painstakingly arranged for this moment.

"Weel, are ye gonnae finish reading it?" he asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Batting a speck of non-existent dirt from the book, she filled her lungs, nodded and read the next lines.

So he got on one knee

To hand her a gift

A tiny velvet box

Holding a silver piece

A silver piece? A record-scratching moment descended upon her like a heavy lead. What's a silver piece? Had she misinterpreted Jamie's intention? But when she glanced up from the book, there he was kneeling in front of her. Holding an expensive-looking velvet ring box, looking determined and brimming with adoration. It's not a ring, Beauchamp! It's a silver piece ...whatever the heck that is. Get a grip. She mentally shook herself. Of course, it couldn't be a ring. It's too soon for him to be asking her hand in marriage. The tiny box had to contain a key to his cottage, ....but he'd already given her one. Perhaps he bought a new house?

"Are ye gonnae to open it?" he asked, breaking her thoughts.

At a loss for words, she took the velvet box with trembling fingers. She reminded herself to calm down. She wouldn't want to embarrass them both into thinking Jamie was proposing.

"It's no' gonnae open itself, Sassenach. Or do ye want to keep holding it until ye're ready?" His lips twitched at its corner, and a spark of amusement lit his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. She took a deep breath and opened the tiny box. When she glimpsed its content, she could only manage a weak "Oh!" Nestled in the case was a shiny one-pound coin where the ring should have been. Too confused for words, she gave him a questioning look.

On his knees, Jamie edged himself forward and took her hand. Keeping his eyes on her, he kissed the inside of her wrist. "Sassenach ...ye ken how I've always talked about how fate in some strange, mysterious way brought us together?" Claire slowly nodded in response, unsure where he was going with this. "Weel, to this day, I still dinnae ken how it all works. This may sound mad. But with everything that's led to here and now, I firmly believe some force, unknown or known, has had a hand in bringing us together. And every day, I thank whoever is listening up there for bringing ye into my life."

Her heart swelled with love. "Jamie, you don't have to do this," she said, laying a hand on his cheeks. "I know what's in your heart."

"No." He took the coin from the box and pulled something from the back of his jeans. "I want to do this." Whatever he reached out for inside his pocket, he kept it hidden in his hand. He cleared his throat and gave her a small smile. "Loving ye is the best part of my life, Sassenach. You brought light and colour in, and for that, I'll always be grateful. Ye brought me back to life when I didnae even realise I'd stopped breathing. From the moment I first laid eyes on ye, I wanted ye for keeps. I want to be yers and for ye to be mine, and I promise I will always try my utmost best to keep ye happy."

"I've always been yours. And always will be. My move to the Highlands should have made that clear enough for you."

"Aye, I had no doubt about that. But I ken that stubborn, practical side of ye will try to argue what I'm about to ask ye is too soon." When he opened his hand, she gasped. On the middle of his palm was a three-diamond stone engagement ring with two smaller ones flanking a bigger brilliant round centre. Emotions tangled in her throat as he raised the one pound coin with his other hand. "If ye, like me, believe destiny ...the universe ...yer da or whatever ye wish to call it ...conspired to bring us together, I'm gonnae dare ye to leave it up to fate with this one-pound coin I have here."

"Wot?" Now she was utterly confused.

"I'm proposing a coin toss. The rules are simple, and it only takes five flips. If it comes up heads each time ... ye'll wear my ring. We dinnae have to marry right away. We can wait a day or ten years. Either way, I want ye to know I plan on loving ye straight through eternity. If the coin comes up tails, weel ..." he trailed off, shrugging. "I guess I have no choice but to wait until ye're ready."

She looked down at Jamie's opened palms, a coin in one hand and a ring in the other. He was doing this so she wouldn't feel pressured to marry but feel secure enough in the knowledge he'd always be waiting for her no matter how long. She squeezed her eyes shut and crammed her fingers to her lips to keep a cry from escaping. She was not interested in tossing a coin to prove they're meant for each other. What they felt for one another wasn't based on fate or luck. They'd met, fallen in love, and now they're taking their relationship to the next level. It's something that happened all the time. They may not love each other the easy way, but their hearts were in the right place every single time. They're rock solid, and she didn't need a flipping coin to tell her that.

When she opened her eyes, a sound broke free in her chest. "Bloody hell, Jamie! Just stop with all this silliness, and put the damn ring on my finger," she hiccuped, giving him her hand.

Jamie's shoulders drained of tension as his breath released in a rush. "Did ye just agree to marry me?"

Hot tears rolled down Claire's cheeks as she let out a watery laugh and fell back on the bench, right where her father had proposed to her mother all those years ago. Though it felt right, a slight uneasiness tried to sneak in when she remembered what Annalise had told her about Jamie's doubt about having children of his own. She searched his face, and all she could see was his love and promise to make her happy. Isn't everything supposed to fix itself when two people are in love? She made a decision not to bring it up ...for now. "Yes, Jamie. I did. I want to marry you too," she breathed as she watched him take her hand to slip the ring on her finger. When she gazed at it, she could only make out the twinkle of diamonds through her tears.

"Christ, I cannae believe ye ditched the coin toss. and agreed to marry me ...just like that."

"I don't need the coin toss to know we're meant for each other," she pointed out. "And you shouldn't either."

He gave her a boyish lopsided grin, one that he was very aware always had an effect on her. Damn! He rose to his full height, tugging her along with him. "Ye have no idea how happy you made me, Sassenach," he breathed, pulling her roughly against him and grazing her earlobe with his teeth. "Now, for the love of God, give yer man his engagement kiss."

Committing this moment to her memory, she slipped her hands under his top to feel the warmth of his skin. Standing on her tiptoes, she tipped her head back and laid a soft kiss on his lips. She smiled when his chest and stomach muscles strained and swelled underneath her touch. "Is that better?" she whispered.

Jamie muttered a curse under his breath, rolling his forehead side to side against hers. "Sassenach, I said kiss. Ye cannae touch me like that when there are people that could be watching us from the house."

"Why?"

"Jesus!" Jamie's exhale came out hot against her forehead. "Why? How am I going to walk back in there in this condition? Ye look at me so innocently when ye ken well I feel a little crazy right now. It wouldnae take much to get me going. Look at what ye do to me."

They both dropped their attention to the bulge straining against his jeans. "I see," she whispered with a shrug, drawing away. "Too bad. I guess we just have to have that celebratory kiss later ...when we're alone."

Looking pained, his hand dug into her hair, pulling her back in, in his hold. "Not too fast." His lips swept over hers before his tongue dipped inside to give her his own brand of teasing. Seconds ticked by while he tantalised with a deep kiss, causing a moan to pass her throat. She felt the shudder that passed through him, the ecstasy of this second, his love, the pressure of his lust pressing between their bodies, the awe and gratitude. It was their own private celebration, drowning everything else out and ...

A throat cleared gruffly. Jamie stiffened and dragged his lips from her mouth, pink blooming on the tips of his ears. Just beyond his shoulder, she saw uncle Lamb averting his eyes and rocking on his heels.

"Uncle Lamb?" Claire croaked. "Don't tell me you're on this as well?"

"Trust me, sweetheart, you're not the only one who's been bushwhacked."

"Bushwhacked?"

"I guess this is the part where we say, congratulations." Willie's voice cut through her surprise at seeing her uncle, causing her head to drop forward on Jamie's chest. As the reality of their surroundings slowly began to encroach, Claire somehow found the willpower to unwind her arms from Jamie's neck and turn around. Three pair of eyes were trained on them with a mixture of amusement and joy for their happiness and mild annoyance from her uncle.

"Aye, we're officially engaged," Jamie announced, his arm going around her waist to pull her back against his chest. He pressed his lap to her backside to let her know the situation in his pants.

Claire stifled a giggle and put on her best smile, fully aware of Jamie's mild discomfort. "We are, indeed," she grinned, leaning back to kiss the underside of Jamie's jaw. "I must admit, I never saw this coming." She lifted her hand to show them the ring.

Annalise whooped and clapped her hands. "Well, this call for a celebration then," she beamed, skipping towards them. "Let me see it."

Squeezing her hip, Jamie let her go. She smothered the urge to laugh when she supposed that probably nothing loses a man's erection faster than a sight of her uncle Lamb's tetchy demeanour. Dismissing her silly thoughts, Claire splayed her hand out for her friend. "It's gorgeous, isn't it?"

"Stunning. I'm so happy for you." She looked Claire in the eye and spoke for her ears only. "Did you tell him what we talked about earlier?"

"Which one?"

"Babies. Hello?"

Claire sighed. She didn't want to lie to her friend, nor did she want to taint the occasion by bringing the subject of future babies up. There was a time and place for that and now wasn't appropriate. She hugged Annalise briefly and spoke into her ears. "Everything is going to be fine."

Annalise brows furrowed, but when she saw how happy Claire was, she immediately dropped the subject. "If you say so."

"I know so," Claire smiled, pulling away from her friend at the sight of Willie approaching. "Now, scoot and celebrate with us."

Annalise did an eye-roll and let Willie through.

"Congratulations!" Willie broke in, raising the bottle of Moët in his hand and giving Jamie a high-five with the other. He dropped a kiss on Claire's cheek and grinned. "Welcome to the family, Claire. My not so wee bràthair doesnae mess about, does he?"

"Thank you," she smiled. "And, no, he certainly doesn't."

Jamie received a back slap and a hug from his brother while Claire watched her uncle slowly approached them, shoulders strained, and hands shoved in his pocket. Something was amiss. Quentin was avoiding her eyes, and she noticed his face was devoid of emotions. She strode to his side. "Seriously, uncle?" she hissed, disbelief colouring her tone.

Quentin ignored her. "You sneaky piece of shit!" he barked at Jamie.

"Oh, dear God, here we go again," Willie muttered, rubbing his hand over his face.

"Again?" Claire gasped as she noticed Annalise and Willie's eyes ricocheting between Jamie and Quentin. She was about to scold her uncle when his face broke into a grin. She held her breath and stilled in anticipation.

"Congratulations, son! I couldn't think of a better man for my niece!"

"About time ye realised it, ol' man," Jamie grinned.

"Who are you calling an old man?" Quentin ground out in mock displeasure.

Annalise, Willie and Claire gaped at Quentin.

"What?" Quentin chuckled. "If I'd come right out and told Jamie right at the start, I couldn't think of a better man for my niece, he would never have fought for her the way he did."

"What kind of logic is that?" Claire fumed.

Jamie crossed his arms. "Oh, this is gonnae be gold."

"It's a men thing, sweetheart and complicated," Quentin muttered, giving Jamie a dirty look.

"I'll try and keep up. Explain."

Quentin released an impatient sigh. "Men in your generation have none to too little backbone. Jamie had to realise he was good enough and strong enough for you. And you had to make him realise it. That's the top and bottom of it."

Her uncle was right, Claire thought. A few weeks ago, Jamie wouldn't have thought himself capable of coming this far with his condition. She might have been instrumental in pulling him out of the darkness where he'd lived for so long, but all the hard work had come from Jamie.

When Quentin took her hand and pulled her into an awkward embrace, she relaxed. "I'm not going to be around forever, darling," he said gruffly before pulling away to look her in the eyes. "I wanted to make sure you were in good hands if anything happened to me." He glanced at Jamie. "I had an inkling when Claire first told me about you, and we talked for the first time on that video chat, that your relationship was serious. The second I found out Henry's connection to you, I had to delve more into your history. When you started talking about fate and all that tripe, I didn't believe in it ...but these last few days, after spending time together, you made me believe in you. I saw something in you."

Quentin gestured toward the double-headed one-pound coin Jamie had left on the bench. "So when you tried to extract a blessing for this proposal after dragging me here under the pretence of a boys' weekend, I thought I'd have a little laugh and grant it by giving that coin Henry gave me and challenging you to leave it to fate ...without telling you it was double-headed. As you know, I was still a bit miff with you for not letting me into this big secret thing. But you surprised me when you agreed to take the challenge and told me you'd leave it to Claire to toss it. You really believe in all that destiny nonsense, don't you?" He shook his head in disbelief.

Jamie just shrugged and smiled.

"Uncle Lamb! How could you?" Claire huffed indignantly, crossing her arms across her chest. "For your information, we didn't toss the coin even if Jamie suggested it."

Quentin's eyes widened. "You didn't?"

"I don't need a damn coin to make my decisions, for God's sake."

Jamie slipped his arm across her shoulder and squeezed her. "It doesnae matter, Sassenach. All that matters is he gave us his blessings and that we love each other."

"I know," Claire whispered before glaring at her uncle. "As for you, no more tricks up your sleeves, are we clear?"

"Jamie caught me off guard with this marriage thing. Can you blame me for what I did?"

"Uncle Lamb! That's not the issue here." She pegged him down with a look. "You've been giving Jamie a hard time from day one. No more tricks and no more taunting Jamie. I love you both, and I want you to get along. Promise me."

Quentin raised his hands in the air before placing them on his chest. "Promise. Jamie's read me the riot act earlier today, and you're speaking to the converted. And I meant what I said when I told him I couldn't think of a better man for you. Honestly, I'm happy for both of you." He opened his arms to her. "Forgive me, sweetheart?"

With a roll of her eye, she stepped away from Jamie's hold and threw herself in her uncle's arms. "You know I'll always forgive you," she mumbled against his neck, hugging him close. "Despite you being such a grouch, I want you to know I am happy that you're here."

"Me too, sweetheart, me too," he said gruffly. "Now, shall we start the celebration? I'm parched and starving."

"About time," Annalise chirped with a little dance and fist pump.

Laughing, Willie popped the cork on a bottle of Moët while Jamie handed out the crystal flutes.

Claire watched as their drinks were being poured and smiled. She said a silent prayer for her parents and thanked them. There were so many things to be grateful for. Life was good, and her heart was full. She was moving to the Highlands, start her career as a writer and marry the man she loved. This was what she wanted, and she was prepared for this whatever may come their way. Her only wish was, her parents could be here today, so her father could see what a fine lad Jamie had grown up to be.

Her attention was brought back to the present when Annalise nudged her with her foot. With champagne finally in everyone's hand, they all raised their glasses to their new beginning.

"To Jamie and Claire," Willie began.

"To your happiness," Annalise added.

"To family and friends," Jamie beamed.

"To what's next," Claire breathed.

"To my next meal," Quentin snorted. "Now drink up, and let's go. I'm bloody starving."

..........

"Did you really mean what you said earlier?" Jamie asked Quentin once they were alone, and the rest of the party walked ahead of them on their way back to the cottage from the pub. "About believing in me and being happy for us?"

Quentin glanced at him. "I always say what I mean, son. Best get used to it," he grumbled.

"Right ..." They walked in silence, watching Claire, Annalise and Willie as they began singing the chorus of Living on a Prayer for the umpteenth time. "About that double-headed one pound coin ..." Jamie began.

"That was a clever touch, huh?" Quentin grinned. "Would have come handy for you if Claire had decided to use it. You still got it?"

"Aye." Jamie handed him the coin. "By the way, I have a confession to make."

"What's that?" Quentin asked, taking the coin and shoving it in his pocket.

"The reason why I readily agreed to that coin toss you suggested earlier is that ...Harry gave me one too." Jamie dug his own coin from his pocket and showed it to Quentin. "I knew the coin ye were giving me was double-headed."

Quentin stopped to look at him. "You suggested the coin toss to Claire even though you knew it was double-headed?"

"Aye."

"If Claire had agreed, would you have used the double-headed or the normal coin?"

"The double-headed, of course," Jamie admitted.

"What about all your bloody talk of fate and destiny and all that?"

Jamie shrugged. "Oh, I still believe in fate, but I couldnae take the chance. I love yer niece too much. I think ye would be inclined to agree that the universe has an odd sense of humour, and I needed to cover my arse just in case it decided to turn against me."

Quentin scowled. "Is it too late to change my mind about you?"

"Aye."

They watched as Annalise and Willie, doubled with laughter, latched on to Claire's arms after she stumbled onto the curb.

"Well, then," Quentin grunted. "What the hell are you doing here still babbling to me? Go join the fun."

Jamie shook his head. "Oh no, ye don't, spoilsport. Ye're here to have some fun too. Ye're joining in."

"I'm too old for all that. Now go and leave me in peace."

Jamie narrowed his gaze at him. "Is that really what ye want? To be left in peace?"

Quentin blew out an exasperated breath, but Jamie caught the sheen in his eyes and the smile he was battling. "No. I want you to get used to me showing up," he growled.

Jamie pretended to sound annoyed so as not to embarrass the older man. "Fine, as long as it doesn't involve ye decking me."

"Deal."

..........

Jamie looked up from the mock children's book, smiling when he heard Claire doing her nightly routine in the bathroom. The book disguising his marriage proposal had been Annalise idea. As soon as she'd heard of his intention from Willie, she'd made the suggestion, desperately wanting to play a part in surprising Claire. She even had him adding a few of his own words to the poem. How Annalise's friend managed to illustrate and have the book printed on such short notice, he had no idea. But he must admit, The Unicorn and the Lioness book had been a nice touch.

Claire walked into the bedroom, looking fresh in his t-shirt, her face still flushed from the champagne earlier. He watched her shiver a little, rubbing her arms to generate heat. The sight of her bare legs kicked his heart rate up a notch. He smiled and drew the bedcover back in an invitation to get in.

As she snuggled under the crook of his arm, she smiled when she saw the book on his lap. "I never got to read the ending," she said with a yawn, her arm sliding across his waist.

He kissed the crown of her head and pulled her in closer. "Shall I read it for ye?"

"Yes, please."

"I'll start from where you left off."

"Alright."

Jamie got comfortable and cleared his throat. "Here goes ..."

So he got on one knee

To hand her a gift

A tiny velvet box

Holding a silver piece

Claire giggled. "You got me right there."

"I know," Jamie chuckled, turning the page. "Now wheesht and let me finish."

Confused and bewildered

That it's not a ring

It became apparent

She wanted the real thing

So still on his one knee

He uttered the plea:

"My dearest lioness,

Will you marry me?"

He felt his heart beating

Right out of his chest.

He could do nothing but wait

And hope she'd say YES.

When he ended and a few moments of silence ensued, Claire twisted from her position and looked up at him. "That's it?"

"Aye," Jamie replied, handing her the book. "Louise said you're a writer, so she left a blank page for you to write the ending."

"Is that so?" she said, laughing, reaching for her specs. "Well, let's see what I can do."

Jamie grabbed a pen from the nightstand and handed it to her.

After adjusting the pillow, she sat up and began scribbling, reading the words out loud as she wrote.

When she finally answered

He could not stop grinning

Because he knew, in his heart,

This was just The Beginning!

Claire closed the book and took off her specs. "How was that?" she asked, sliding back under the covers.

"It was good, but I'm left hanging. I'm dying to know what happened after?"

"Hmmm ..." She climbed on top of him and nipped his lips with her teeth. "They celebrated with their loved ones, ate a lot of food and drank too much champagne." She drew circles on his chest. "Although I have a sneaking suspicion, their night is not over yet."

Jamie flipped her on her back, making her yelp. He scanned her face for a few heartbeats. "Ye're absolutely right. He's gonnae tell her how happy she's made him," he whispered, his words thick with emotions. "And show her in so many ways how much he loves her."

She blinked away the tears blearing her vision and smiled up. "Well, he's got all night to prove he's not just a bunch of talk."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "A bunch of talk, huh? He's a big man, Sassenach, and he makes love twice as long."

She slipped her hand past the waistband of his boxer brief and gripped him hard, making him catch his breath. "We'll see about that," she challenged.

He rewarded her by grabbing her hand and slowly pressing his hips into her. "You're on, Sassenach, you're on," he groaned into her mouth before silencing her with his kisses.

Dear Readers,

Firstly, apologies for the delay in the final chapter of this series. As some of you already know, if you read my Tumblr posts, I've had a bad reaction to my vaccination. Though I feel a little better, I don't feel quite right yet hence the delay of this update. I'm easily tired and have been writing sporadically, depending on my energy level. So, after this chapter, I will take a long rest before starting the next series.

Secondly, I'd like to thank everyone for the kudos and comments on AO3 and on my Tumblr and those who left best wishes in my inbox. I appreciate them all from the bottom of my heart. Though I haven't replied individually, please know I enjoy reading them and look forward to what you have to say.

Thirdly, as you may have gathered, this is the final chapter of this series. There will be a third series. When? I have no time frame yet as I will need time to recuperate. If you wish to be updated, you can always subscribe to the WONDERWALL series by clicking here. Or follow me on my Tumblr site here.

Lastly, I hope you've enjoyed this last chapter. It's the longest chapter I've ever written, with 11560 words. If this update is all over the place, I blame it on my bad days. I personally think it's alright, but I can never be sure. I believe my reaction to the vaccination has dulled me a bit. So, thank you all from the bottom of my heart: for your continued interest, readership, kudos and comments. I look forward to reading your remarks and constructive criticism on this latest update. Kudos to you all, my friends, and be safe. Keep the positive vibe rolling. Much love. X

PS I will compile a Masterlist for WONDERWALL and post it on my Tumblr site, either tomorrow or in the next few days, depending on how I feel.

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #claire beauchamp/jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

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