#I ACTUALLY GASPED AT MERCEDES' LINE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fiction-box · 1 year

Note

Would you write for Sylvain x Cursed!Fem!Reader? I don’t really mind what the curse is or how you’d solve it, so you can get creative with this one! :D

Hey, lovely! This was actually really interesting and super fun. It was nice to work with establishing subtlety and growing that into a nice crescendo for the story's climax. I really got to work out my brain on how certain characters would handle certain scenarios, and of course there was the matter of coming up with how the curse would be applied.

I hope this is what you were looking for!

Requests are open. The story will be continued under the cut.

“Good morning. We have a lot to cover today, so I’ll need everyone to sit down as soon as you walk in,” Professor Byleth commented over her shoulder, drawing up the battle strategy your class had been discussing for the past week.

You entered the Blue Lions’ classroom, a small black notebook in your hand as you moved to get to your seat.

“Oh,” your professor noted, “Seteth told me this was sent to you.”

She was gesturing toward a slim box on the edge of her desk. Maybe it would fit a pen? But then why would anyone go through the trouble?

“Would you mind if I opened it now?”

“The way I see it, it’s yours. You can do whatever you’d like.”

Curious, you took the box back to your seat. It seemed you were not the only one intrigued; Mercedes and Ashe turned to watch from their chairs in front of you.

“What do you think it is?” she asked, “I’ve never received a package before.”

Ashe gave a sad smile, “Neither have I. It makes me wonder.”

More eyes came to fall on you as the tape was removed from the edges and the lid was lifted lightly.

Upon seeing what it was, you gave a small gasp. Resting inside on a soft cushion was a deep blue pendant looped through a small silver chain. The necklace was understated, and undoubtedly to your taste. You would have picked such a piece out for yourself had you seen one in the market.

“Ooh!” Annette cooed behind you, bracing her hands on her table as she stood at her seat behind you, “It’s so pretty!”

“Someone…knows me very well,” you chose your words carefully.

Sylvain leaned in next to you, scanning over the necklace with a look on his face you couldn’t quite read, “Do you know who sent it?”

Good question. You would have to meet with this person and have a little chat. No one gifted something like this purely out of kindness. Not to you, anyway. But when you lifted the cushion, there was only a slip of parchment about as long as your index finger underneath.

You set the cushion aside, reaching in to turn over the paper.

Eternity

That wasn’t helpful at all. If anything, knowing that paper came with the box only made you more confused.

The phrase was iterated to your friends as you placed the necklace back in its place.

“Maybe it’s some new jewelry line looking to get its name out there,” Annette beamed, “Ooh, you’re so lucky!”

If that was the case, why pick an understated piece? On top of that, why you? Sure, you were the daughter of a Kingdom noble, but someone had to have gone out of their way for this. To learn that you were at Garreg Mach, and then to ensure you would actually receive the package?

Even Ingrid was interested, it seemed, “You should try it on. It would be a shame for it to sit away waiting for some special occasion. Besides, the jeweler would probably want you to show it off.”

You weren’t the showy type, but you could admit you were just as interested in it as she was.

“I suppose…” the attention from your classmates was beginning to make you shy.

They weren’t interested in you, though! It was the necklace they wanted to see, you reminded yourself.

Easily, the silver chain was lifted from the cushion and wrapped around your neck. Clasping it in the back, you found that it fell just below your collarbone.

Mercedes gave a soft giggle, “It looks wonderful on you! Ingrid is right, it would be a shame for it to collect dust somewhere in your room.”

She’s right.

“Okay, then. I…guess I’ll wear it often.”

Professor Byleth gave a small scowl from the front of the room, “Sylvain, I hope you studied your notes from my last lecture as closely as you’re studying that necklace.”

“What? Of course I did! I studied during the lecture.”

You noticed he didn’t even have a notebook.

“Very well, then. Why don’t we start by having you tell us more about the…”

~~~~~~

Thankfully, you had eaten a good breakfast this morning. The professor didn’t release anyone until long after lunch had passed. It didn’t help that you had spent every second writing down as much as possible to be looked over later.

You elected to bring your lunch with you to your dorm, mind focused solely on reviewing what the Professor had spouted during the lecture for the group examination tomorrow. It seemed she was more adamant about the topic of battalion management than the other subjects the monastery advocated.

An hour or two passed, and you had successfully copied the important bits of the lecture onto your spare pages. This way, your studies for the rest of the night were more efficient.

By the time the sky turned to a dark midnight, you were still sitting at your desk in your room.

That’s enough for today.

Wanting to prepare for bed, you reached back to remove the clasp of the necklace you received. As though something was triggered by the action, it was set aglow with light.

Not right now.

“…”

Nevermind that it glows! You don’t want to take the necklace off. A new desire has overcome you.

You were in the mood for a stroll. Specifically, one to the woods outside of Garreg Mach.

The hallway was too dark for you to see properly, but you didn’t care. You shut the door behind you as you left, maneuvering about the monastery confidently until you came near the gates.

You stifled the glow of your necklace with one of your hands, sneaking around the guards as you let your feet lead the way. Somehow, these were the surest steps you had ever taken. Your destination was somewhere you had never been, yet one you were always meant to visit.

That very sense of determinism kept you mindlessly moving. Trees, leaves, grass, and several shadows drooping over everything stood as the only landmarks on your path. You treaded forth until you came to a gradual halt.

Calmly, you turned to your left. A woman in robes you could not clearly make out in the darkness made her presence known.

She approached you with a laidback ease; you were no threat to her.

And why would you be? You are safe with her. She only has your best interests in mind.

“Good to see you have accepted my gift, my muse,” the woman drew nearer, her hand brushing over your collarbone to touch the pendant, “You wear it well.”

You knew nothing of your current situation, but there was a settled feeling within you. There would be no need for questions. All the knowledge you needed would be provided, and what you weren’t told, you didn’t need to worry about.

A lovely way of saving your mind the trouble, is it not? Truly, she cares for you.

“Now, you must have seen enough of her at Garreg Mach to give me a proper report,” she gleaned, removing her hand from your neck.

Tell her all about your professor.

“Wh…why?” you managed. Your head was beginning to feel foggy, and you could no longer remember how you got here.

Hush. Do not ask questions. Only listen.

This voice in your mind was beginning to make your head spin.

“Perhaps you are too tired from your day to continue. You should not be able to resist.”

There were so many questions you wished to ask, but the blanket of exhaustion weighed heavier upon your mind than the cloud of curiosity.

“A major fault of my own design, no doubt. There is no reason to fret, though. I promise you and I will work through the problems together until we get this right.”

A rustle in the bushes caught your attention, though you didn’t get to point it out before the woman’s hand found your collar once more.

“Now, erase this encounter from your memory. Forget.”

~~~~~~

Byleth found herself working tediously at her desk an hour before classes were slated to start.

She saw you late last night, soundlessly following the gleam of your jewel until you covered it. By then, tracking you through the woods was child’s play. You did not seem yourself, so she played it safe and waited to learn where you were headed before revealing herself.

Only, she never did confront you in those woods. No, the problem ran much deeper than a student sneaking out after hours. It only took her noticing your strange gait and how the mage that appeared treated you to determine as much.

The professor needed information, though she would not have hesitated to attack if she believed you were in true danger.

It seemed the woman still needed you; however, Byleth could only hope to guess how long your usefulness would last. No matter. The witch had given her a day, and that was all she needed to form a decent plan.

The former mercenary silently debated whether to confront you directly about it or not. While it was true she left the scene early, Byleth still managed to learn that you weren’t in on the act, so to speak. Your mind was likely being surveyed, which meant asking any suspicious questions could ruin any element of surprise she might have. You couldn’t know she had a plan.

In truth, she wondered if you knew you were in danger, at all. Fortunately, there were some things she could ask.

Byleth noticed you enter the classroom a few minutes early. You had a few questions on her lecture from yesterday, it seemed.

“I would say good morning, but you look like you hardly slept last night. Were you up late?” she greeted.

Your brows furrowed slightly as you brought a hand to your cheek, “Do I? That’s strange…I actually remember falling asleep much earlier than usual.”

That was surprising. Did you not remember your encounter?

Beginning to cover the areas of confusion you wanted to discuss, the professor noted your strange clothing choice. A shawl was draped over your shoulders and covered your collarbone. You had never worn such an item before, so you must have chosen it for a reason.

Her guess? It was likely to shield the pendant from the notice of others.

Eventually, all of the Blue Lions found their way into the room and classes began. What the class didn’t know was that things would go a little differently today.

“Now, I know some of you may be upset or confused about this new arrangement, but there has been a schedule change,” she opened, standing at her desk, “Rather than doing our group work this weekend, our class will be completing its tasks today. Don’t ask me why, I don’t make the rules.”

Oh, she very much did make the rules, but nobody in this class would be so aggravated about the alteration that they would march up to Seteth just to verify the new schedule. Nobody in their right mind would contest her if it meant they’d be taking that exam instead.

“Partners and jobs will change, and as such will be decided by myself.”

There were a few murmurs at this.

You spoke out, “How long will this new arrangement last, Professor?”

“Only for this week, don’t worry.” Byleth looked to the list she had created before class, “Now, you and Mercedes will be on stable duty today. Dedue and Ashe will handle the cooking, Ingrid will go on sky-watch with Ferdinand from the Black Eagle house, and Dimitri and Felix will be working on weeding the grass.”

“What?” Felix complained, “Out of the eight other people in this room, why would you choose to pair me with him?.”

“Because it would bring me no end of lectures from Seteth to have you embarrass this House by falling out of the sky or burning a fish. Annette, Sylvain, please come see me,” she looked to her students, “but everyone else is dismissed and may begin. Your day ends when your task concludes.”

Students filed out of the classroom one at a time, Annette and Sylvain making their way to the front. Once the last student shut the door behind them, Byleth pulled the small paper she had been forming a plan upon out from her drawer.

“You two are going to have some very important tasks, but I’ll need you to keep this information private unless I exclusively tell you to share it.”

Sylvain scoffed, “What? Are others going to be jealous of our chores, Professor?”

“Do you remember the necklace your classmate received yesterday, Sylvain?”

“How could I forget after the commotion it caused?” he muttered.

“Well, I have reason to believe that piece of jewelry inflicted a curse upon her. The only time I know for certain we have is today, and we can’t waste a single second.”

Annette let out a noise of shock, “But Professor, why didn’t you confront her about it? Surely, if you had just taken her necklace off…”

“I couldn’t take that risk. There’s no way to know if that necklace can come off.” She glanced over her writing, “Just because I’m aware something is going on…just because I can get her alone…even then, I know so little that I can’t even be sure we have any advantage except surprise. We’re only going to get one shot at this, and we can’t give away that we know anything. Especially not to _______.”

She set the paper aside, “Annette, I’ll need you to do some research on curses and get back to me. Anything in the ranges of cursed objects, methods of cursing, and mind control should be good places to start. The sooner we know what we’re dealing with, the sooner we’ll know where to look for a solution.”

“Got it!” she exclaimed, rushing out of the room to the library.

“I’ll be joining you in just a moment!” Byleth called after her.

Sylvain leaned forward, “What about me?”

“You have a more…practical role to play…”

~~~~~~

Hours went by, Annette finally reporting her progress. The only way to break the spell was either by getting the mage to remove it herself, or by killing her altogether.

Best to prepare for the latter, Byleth thought. That woman didn’t look the type to go down without a fight. Or to play fair, for that matter.

Well then, she’d need to take away as much leverage as possible. The former mercenary seemed to recall that your natural exhaustion dampened your necklace’s control, the other night.

“Alright, listen up Annette. Here’s what I need you to do…”

~~~~~~

“Hey, Mercie!” you heard Annette call.

Currently, Mercedes was helping you brush out and dry off the last few horses. Today’s stallions were rather well-behaved, though it took no small amount of energy to care for the horses on a good day.

Things were also slowed down by the leisurely pace you two had been going at thus far, taking a break for lunch at one point and having a bit of fun with each other between tasks.

“What is it, Annie?”

The smaller girl gave a glance toward you before focusing on her friend again, “I, um…the professor wanted me to speak with you.”

“I see,” Mercedes nodded, setting her brush down. She turned back to you, “Please, just give me a moment. I’ll get right back to working with you once this is settled.”

“Take your time!” you smiled.

As the girls walked away, the voice that had been so present in your thoughts today grew louder.

What are they saying? They are keeping secrets from you.

No, you rationalized. They always did that sort of thing. The two were incredibly close far before you came along. Besides, this was something the professor needed. If it had anything to do with her more personal affairs, it was none of your business anyway.

Could it be that your professor is wary of you? Did you reveal the pendant? One can never be too certain, in these times…

The more you tried to reassure yourself, the more wary you became. Though you knew you were surrounded by those that would never hurt you, a feeling of dread had rooted itself within your mind.

A similar feeling came whenever your mind had its more…forceful thoughts…yet never was it stronger than when you dreamt last night.

With each swipe of your comb along horse hair, images would flood your mind. You, covering your pendant with a shawl. You, falling asleep early last night.

You, heading back into the woods tonight.

…back?

“I’m so sorry!” a voice snapped you out of your thoughts. It was Mercedes. Apparently, her conversation had concluded, but she remained standing next to Annette, “It seems the professor needs me to help her reassign vulneraries. You’ll be okay finishing the rest of this by yourself, won’t you?”

A reasonable excuse?

Of course it was. As the Blue Lions’ best cleric, Mercedes was always called to meet with the professor over vulnerary assignments.

…very well.

“No problem! Come back when you’re done, okay?”

Annette and Mercedes exchanged glances you didn’t quite like. Something told you she wouldn’t be coming back.

“Sure!” Annette cut in, “I’ll even help you out after I finish in the greenhouse!”

“Really? Thanks so much, Annette!”

But she must have never gotten her task done. Once the horses were locked up in their stables and the sky was painted orange, you were just as alone as when they left you.

Liars.

You didn’t want to hate them for it.

Some true friends you have. For them to abandon you after making promises like that…

They would never hurt you on purpose. Their chores were important, so it simply must have taken them longer than usual.

After a quick stop at the dining hall, you returned to your room. It had been such a long day, you were almost excited to get some rest.

Ah, ah. Not yet. You are meant to be going to the woods, remember?

Of course. How could you forget? You had only been thinking of that trip for what, a whole day?

Be not seen. Make haste.

Leaving your shawl behind, you changed into clean clothes before heading off.

The lovely glow of your favorite necklace shone down the hall as you went. Unfortunately, you needed to stifle the shine with your hand a few times to sneak off the grounds past the guards.

Why was this so familiar?

Just a little farther…

Greenery, darkness, moonlight, left.

A dark-robed woman revealed herself, “Fascinating. Tell me, do you know who I am?”

Who is she to you? Be honest.

“You-”

An arrow suddenly lodged itself in the woman’s shoulder.

“Augh-!”

HelpHelpHelpHelpHelpHelpHelp

The amulet you wore shone brighter than ever as all your instincts commanded that you protect her.

Surveying your surroundings, you spotted someone you knew holding the bow. It was your professor, and by the way she shifted her arms in the dark, she was going to nock another arrow.

Without thinking, you advanced. At least, you tried to. Your lunge was interrupted by a strong arm catching your waist, but it was clumsy and rushed. The counterweight caused both your own momentum and that of your supposed assailant to switch, bringing you both to the ground as you collided.

HelpMeHelpMeHelpMeHelpMeHelpMeHelpMeHelpMe

This mantra kept interrupting your focus until your back was against their chest. The two of you were in an awkward, semi-upright position as you struggled against the arms restraining you.

“You sure about this, Professor?” strained a man’s voice. A lock of red hair came into your field of view.

“Do it. It’s for her own good.”

Who you now knew to be Sylvain removed one of his arms’ grasp on you, reaching for something you couldn’t see. His hand returned just as quickly, though he held a small vial of herbs and pollen between his fingers.

Suddenly, you were flipped so that you were on your back on the ground and he was above you. He clamped one of his hands over your mouth, forcing you to breathe through your nose.

“Sorry about this,” he frowned as he popped the vial open and held it underneath your nostrils.

HelpMeHelpMeHelpMeHelpMe

But you couldn’t. After five quick inhales from your aggressive, breathless state, the floral mixture muddled all your senses together.

“Protect her until…” Professor Byleth’s voice faded out, though you watched her finally rush out of the bush, sword in hand, to confront the stranger.

…cold…it was so cold.

“...onastery…”

The sweetened scent haunted you.

~~~~~~

When you woke up, Manuela was with you in the infirmary.

According to the physician, you had been asleep for three days.

“Poor dear, you looked so pale. But you’re well rested now, and I think I’ve managed to flush your system of that awful pollen.”

The pollen…

“I remember that!” you sat up in a panic. “It was Professor Byleth…and Sylvain…”

“Yes,” Manuela laughed. “They filled me in once they came back with you. I swear, that boy worried himself out of an appetite the day they brought you back. He must have held the narcotic powder to your nose for too long.”

Subconsciously, your hand migrated to the lower half of your face.

“He blames himself, of course, but in all honesty I think it was more than that. Curses take a toll on your body as they are. Combine that with natural exhaustion, and that’s a nasty little recipe that’ll keep anyone out for a long time. Not that my telling him that kept him from checking in on you every few hours.”

After a few final checks, the songstress assured you that you were just fine before sending you off to the dining hall to get something to eat.

Needless to say, you couldn’t get there without talking with everyone you bumped into on the way.

Mercedes and Annette were the first to call out your name.

“Oh my goodness! I’m really sorry about lying to you,” Annette wailed. “I was really scared, but I knew the professor had a plan to keep you safe. I felt bad every second of it, though I know that’s probably not worth anything.”

You wrapped them both in a hug, “Please, don’t worry about it! I completely understand.”

“If there’s anything we can do for you, just let us know,” Mercedes offered.

“Of course.”

You smiled and waved at each other, parting ways as you continued on your trip to the dining hall.

More members of your house stopped you as you went. Dimitri wanted to apologize, promising he would attempt to prevent such occurrences in the future. Professor Byleth approached from behind him as the prince explained he was upset with himself for not noticing anything out of the ordinary.

Quickly, you assured him that no one did; you weren’t even aware you were cursed. Your teacher chimed in at that, saying she only found out by sheer luck. She threw a rare smile your way though, glad to have you back and happy to fill you in.

The necklace was given to Professor Hanneman and the woman was brought in for questioning, according to your professor. The woman had chosen to value her life over her secrets, it seemed.

“Thank you for everything,” you worried. “I don’t…that could have gone downhill way too quickly.”

“Don’t even think about it. You are my student; it is my responsibility to keep you safe.”

Her eyes slid past yours, as though she saw something behind you.

“In any case, Dimitri and I were just headed to the training grounds to spar with Felix and Dedue. Feel free to join us later, if you’re feeling better. We wouldn’t want to keep them waiting, though.”

“Oh, good luck,” you waved as they turned and left.

You heard your name from behind you.

Sylvain looked somewhat breathless, slowing up a few paces away by the time you shifted to face him.

“Sylvain,” was about as far as you got before he cut you off.

“I am so sorry,” he started. “Goddess, when we got you back…you were bruised, you were knocked out…I messed up.”

You were taken off guard. Such blunt sincerity wasn’t something you expected from him of all people.

…Manuela really wasn’t kidding when she said he was beating himself up over this.

“Hey…you saved me- you might have saved the professor too, since I know she’s who that woman was after. I have no clue what was in store for me, though I probably would have just kept living life trapped in limbo.”

“...maybe, but…” he struggled to find an argument.

“I know. Look, I-I’d rather have a few bruises than a chain binding me. You and Professor Byleth, you’re the reason I’m free. That’s more important to me than anything.”

“Right. Okay, then,” he nodded, taking a breath.

“So there. I forgive you.” You began to laugh, “Now look at us; I’m the one who’s worried. I don’t even think there’s a way I can repay you for helping me.”

“Oh, there’s no need for that,” he waved it off. “Although…you could come for a meal in the dining hall with me.”

“You’re in luck. I just happen to be on my way there right now,” you grinned. “Best not to leave a debt unsettled, right?”

He laughed, “I told you, you don’t need to think that way.”

Though the two of you went back and forth verbally, you went to the dining hall together.

And this time, the only voice telling you, this is right, was the one in your heart.

#fire emblem #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fe x reader #fiction #fe3h x reader #x reader #sylvain x reader #fire emblem x reader #fe3h sylvain #sylvain gautier #sylvain jose gautier #fe sylvain #fe sylvain x reader #fire emblem three houses x reader #byleth eisner #fe3h byleth #fe

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very-grownup · 1 year

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Book 10, 2023

There are certain books and authors that are firmly associated with a moment in time for me. Gordon Korman and grade 5 book fairs and the Christmas pageant, reading all of the Little House and Anne books in grade six, Mercedes Lackey in junior high, Diana Wynne Jones and Lois McMaster Bujold in high school, the Lord of the Rings on the summer trip to Ontario, "The Queen of Attolia" in the clawfoot tub in my childhood home, balancing "Jonathan Strange and Mister Norrel" on the tiny desk in political theory waiting for the professor to arrive, reading "Watership Down" for the first time during law school finals, giving romance novels a shot working a temp job near the library.

John Hodgman's "Vacationland" at the foot of Mum's hospital bed.

The David Lynch biography sitting on the dock at Algonquin Park.

I read Maggie Stiefvater's Raven Cycle during the part of the pandemic where people were taking it seriously and my friend Sarri was furloughed and I would tell her about what I was reading when we walked dogs to distract us both from the sometimes overwhelming fear that plagued those months. So I associate Stiefvater with walks in the park and making a friend laugh, poking fun at the YA trappings but enthusing about character beats or evocative sentences or wild plot developments. "Greywaren" brought more of that - I've told Friend Sarri about each subsequent book, like someone relating the latest chapter of "Little Dorrit".

Stiefvater's also one of the authors who sometimes writes a line that captures a fragment of grief for me. Here it was that weird ugly grief of watching someone with a person or relationship in their life that you've lost, and needing to sit with your jealousy of their happiness, and the unfairness of it, even as you don't actually want other people to feel your hurt.

I think Stiefvater bites off more than she can chew with disparate narratives and imbalanced character arcs and there's a messy quality to her endings, a gasping final push over a finish line, but the journey's fun for all that.

No one ever did mention flat earth theory, though.

#books #maggie stiefvater #greywaren

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f1 · 2 years

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Its a big step Mercedes pair eyeing Ferrari fight in Spain as upgrades net Russell best grid slot of the year

Mercedes' run of nine straight pole positions at the Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya – stretching back to 2013 – may have come to an end this year. But drivers George Russell and Lewis Hamilton were buoyant after claiming P4 and P6 on the grid in Barcelona, with both eyeing a scrap with title leaders Ferrari after Mercedes appeared to have conquered their porpoising issues. Just as in Miami, Mercedes showed impressive pace in Free Practice 2, Russell and Hamilton finishing P2 and P3 behind Charles Leclerc. Unlike Miami, however, they carried that pace through to Saturday, with Russell ultimately claiming fourth on the grid in Spain, for his best qualifying of the season. READ MORE: Leclerc says last-gasp shot for pole was ��something special’ after recovering from spin in Spain Asked if the result reflected progress – with Mercedes having brought a raft of upgrades to the W13 in an effort to stop it bouncing – Russell replied: “I think so. It wasn’t actually our most perfect qualifying session; we didn’t really have the tyres in the right window and I felt like there was a lot more lap time on the table, yet we still came home in P4 with our best qualifying of the season. “And looking at the pace on Friday, we had a better race car than qualifying car, so I think we’ve got a real chance against Ferrari. But Red Bull, especially Max [Verstappen], seem a little bit faster than the rest, so all to play for.” P4 Russell predicts Sunday will 'not be straightforward' Russell added that it was a relief not to be suffering porpoising in the car now, telling the media: “I don’t feel quite as fatigued after that session as what I’m used to, so I can chill out tonight, get a good sleep and go for it.” Spain marked the first time that Hamilton has been outqualified by Russell when they’ve both made Q3 this year. And while the six-time Spain pole-sitter admitted he was “gutted” to have qualified 0.119s off Russell (who himself qualified 0.643s adrift of pole man Leclerc), he also praised the work done by Mercedes to turn around the truculent W13. READ MORE: Leclerc shrugs off Q3 spin to take pole in Spain as technical issue sees Verstappen miss out “The team have done such a great job, so a big, big, big thank you to everyone for continuing to push back at the factory,” said Hamilton. “We don’t have bouncing in a straight line, which is a huge improvement for us, and the car has generally been nicer this weekend. We do have some bouncing through the high-speed corners like Turns 3 and 9, so we just need to keep working on that and improve it and see if we can gain more downforce elsewhere. Six-time Spain pole-sitter Hamilton admitted he was "gutted" not to have matched Russell “I’m a little bit gutted because I wanted to be further up ahead and you’ve obviously seen George is able to put it further ahead than I, but I’ll keep pushing.” FACTS AND STATS: Consecutive poles for Leclerc as Ferrari start P1 in Spain for first time since 2008 Asked if Mercedes’ race pace had been better than their one-lap pace in Friday running, meanwhile, Hamilton replied: “Definitely. Yesterday was like the best race pace we’ve had so if we can start racing with the Ferraris for example, that would be amazing. “I think the Red Bulls look like they might be quickest, but we might be able to compete with the Ferraris, maybe, tomorrow. That’s a big step for us.” via Formula 1 News https://www.formula1.com

#F1 #‘It’s a big step’ – Mercedes pair eyeing Ferrari fight in Spain as upgrades net Russell best grid slot of the year #Formula 1

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raspberryranpo · 3 years

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announcing your engagement

fire emblem three houses: blue lions

i made a mistake and tapped post instead of save so i’ve had to start again 😭 this is in response to @angel6776 ‘s ask!! sorry!!

DIMITRI

dimitri probably wouldn’t even want to announce his engagement, only to one or two of his closest friends and then just send out invites to more people when you’ve both set a date for the wedding

but he’s the king of faerghus, and later fodlan, & the entire country deserves to know about the new monarch on the throne

all of your closest friends and family know beforehand, but the official announcement comes during a speech to the entire country, spoken from the balcony of the palace looking over the city

he’s talking about the new tax laws or something boring, and he then says something along the lines of, “my partner and i will…”

of course, the city takes notice of this and everyone gasps at the same time

dimitri then realises that not everyone knows about the two of you, and so he says, “it is with great pleasure that i announce my engagement to….”

and the city goes WILD. there’s parties everywhere. everyone celebrates yours and dimitri’s engagement, as well as the new realisation that the king has come out of his depression

DEDUE

the announcement & the wedding date is sent out on little cards to your closest friends and your family, decorated with little flowers and sparkles and whatever else goes on cards

each person who has received a letter has personally come to your shared home and has asked about whether the card is the truth or not

with a small blush and an even smaller smile, dedue nods and takes your hand, looking at you with a tender look in his eyes

dimitri was obviously the first person to know. in fact, dedue made sure that the two of you took the invitation to him personally

dimitri almost cries when he reads it, knowing that his friend has grown up and has realised that he’s not the big bad monster he made himself out to be

in fact, he’s so excited for his friend that he’s running around and telling everyone who’ll listen - not that dedue minds, of course, because he’s much too smitten with you to realise what’s actually happening

SYLVAIN

definitely the one to stand up in the middle of an important meeting and just scream it

it happens during one of the monthly meetings the nobles of fodlan have, during which they discuss (or rather argue over) all of the issues the newfound country has

they’re in the middle of discussing something like child poverty or something actually really sad when sylvain stands up & clears his throat, drawing all attention to himself

he has the biggest grin plastered on his face, and with all the satisfaction in the world, he just yells, “I’M GETTING MARRIED!”

you’ve got some like mercedes and dimitri, who quietly clap, genuinely happy for our resident ginger, but then you’ve got the ones like felix or ingrid, who promptly grab him by the ear and drag him down, yelling about how inappropriate that was

the look he gives you from across the table tells you that he doesn’t regret almost having his ears pulled out of his head

FELIX

brings it up quietly to annette, ingrid, ashe or mercedes, seeing as though they’re the only people whom he doesn’t feel would judge him, and they’re the only people he’d feel comfortable telling

the only way that sylvain and dimitri find out is through those four. they aren’t really formally told. felix does kind of hope that they find out, even though he refuses to outright tell them

he, mercedes and annette constantly talk about it - the girls because they love talking about weddings and decorations, felix because he secretly enjoys thinking about you dressed up in a wedding outfit

eventually, the entire monastery knows, simply because dimitri overheard annette taking about it, & he immediately yelled, “WHAT?! FELIX?! ENGAGED?!”

the poor lad would get incredibly flustered the second someone would bring it up with him but you can tell that he’s not embarrassed to be engaged to you

if anyone asks any questions about it, he won’t hesitate to blab on about it for three hours straight. they’ll be bombarded with him constantly singing your praises

ASHE

it’s like chinese whispers. he says it quietly to dedue, and dedue, not wanting to keep things from his king, tells dimitri, but dimitri doesn’t understand the concept of secrets and tells felix, felix laughs and tells ingrid, ingrid tells sylvain and sylvain tells the entire population

upon being asked about his engagement, ashe’s smile extends from one ear to the other, and he talks for a very long time about how pretty he thinks you’ll look & about how excited he is to actually be married to you

he decides to formally announce it because neither of you have actually said anything - the only way everyone knows is because of something someone else has said

he announces it at a formal dinner party the blue lions have every so often to meet up together. his chair scrapes the floor as he quickly stands up and the room goes silent

it’s very awkward, but he blurts it out with a smile on his face anyway. everyone is incredibly proud of the both of you

MERCEDES

the second you’re engaged, she runs to sing it from the rooftops. except she doesn’t sing, but she quite literally yells it from somewhere high up in the monastery

she’s full of laughter and immediately pulls you into her arms after she’s done, and doesn’t stop kissing you

omg imagine she yells it in the middle of the night & all you can hear is felix in the distance going “SHUT THE HELL UP”

everyone won’t stop talking about it the next day. turns out, everyone heard it, and mercedes is incredibly embarrassed for the entire day

her face is red and her left hand doesn’t leave her cheek, but her other hand stays on top of yours, every so often running her thumb over the ring on your finger

ANNETTE

imagine you propose to annette & she just screeches. it’s the most unholy screech you’ve ever heard and it gets everyone’s attention

that’s how it’s announced. annette makes the most primal scream ever heard to man & the entire monastery runs to her aid, wanting to know what’s going on

she slowly turns to the small crowd of people silently watching the two of you and very loudly says, “i’m engaged??????” and she sounds so unsure about it

everyone’s kind of unsure about whether or not you’re both engaged but after a long period of her being quiet, she starts laughing like a maniac, jumping up and down and crying about it

it’s all she talks about for the next year and a half. even after you’re both married she doesn’t shut up about you proposing

INGRID

tries to stay as quiet about it as possible before she tells all of her friends at once at one of the many blue lions reunions

she wraps an arm around your waist and everyone is shocked at the purely sunny look she has on her face

even her voice has a cheerful lilt to it as she happily announces, “we’re getting married!!”

everyone’s shocked at how genuinely happy she sounds since normally she’s quite serious, never really showing anything other than that

she immediately regrets acting like that because for the next few weeks it’s all everyone goes on about and she’s so humiliated

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fromyourstrulyh · 3 years

Text

such an actress.

A/N: A gift from me to you. Not proofread. Enjoy. 💕

— • — • — • —

“Y/N, love, thank you so much for coming over for dinner. I’m glad you had a wonderful time!” Anne exclaims.

You and Harry spent the night of your birthday at his mum’s in England, where she invited the two of you for dinner, a tradition the Styles family take very seriously. Anne insisted that you come too and, well, you simply couldn’t refuse an offer like that; meeting Anne and Gemma while feasting on foods that made your mouth water when you heard what was on the menu for the night. You were, quite frankly, more than satisfied and you couldn’t have asked for a better way to spend your birthday. Except you were feeling a bit homesick but you’re also grateful you spent some quality time with Harry and his family.

You were also craving for other things. Donned in his all black suit, a bit too formal for the occasion of having a simple dinner with his family on your birthday, formal casual was never his style. It was either formal or casual, there’s no in between. Seeing him all dressed up turned you on from the moment he showed up to your front door. Deep down, you wished you took him inside your place and let him have you the way he would see fit. But you knew he isn’t one to change plans so easily. So you thought to yourself that maybe you can get through the dinner without your thoughts becoming too spicy.

But then again, with him looking so deliciously handsome, you couldn’t help your thoughts. It was simple, really. Your mind went from thinking about how delicious the food Anne made was to how you want Harry to fuck you in the backseat of his car. More specifically, his white Mercedes convertible. You dreamt of it for so long but you could never admit it to Harry. But hey, one can dream, right?

“Of course! I enjoyed dinner. I really appreciate it.” You immediately reply.

“‘S not a problem, really! I appreciate your help in the kitchen too. Harry almost never helps me out which is a bummer.”

At that, you chuckle to yourself knowing damn well the reason he didn’t want to is because he didn’t want anything (and you mean, anything) to ruin his suit. You can’t blame him for wanting to look so good for the night.

But right now, you just want him to take you in the backseat of the convertible. It’s just a matter of using the right strategy to get there but, let’s be honest, it doesn’t take a lot.

The moment you and Harry enter the car, you gently tug on the sleeve of his blazer to get his attention before your mouth meets his. He softly sighs against your lips before he kisses you back. You almost melt at the softness. It doesn’t take long before things become steamy.

You tug onto the lapels of his blazer to pull you closer while Harry wraps an arm around your waist to get you as close to him as you can be. You shiver at the cool outside breeze and the contrasting heat from his skin. Even the smallest touches makes your skin heat up and Harry knows just how powerful of an effect his touch can have. You feel his growing smirk against your lips, knowing exactly what he’s thinking.

“H, please, let’s go home.” You mutter after pulling away from him slightly to get some air.

“Mm, sounds like a lovely idea. Can’t wait to absolutely ruin you behind closed doors.”

You gasp at his words and the feeling of his hand gripping your hip. You feel some dampness in the apex of your legs, the excitement of him giving into your needs growing.

Harry pulls away from you completely and you feel almost touch starved. You just want his hands on you already and you don’t know if you can really wait until you get home, now that you think of it.

You feel dizzy, the lightheadedness is likely to come from the alcohol you consumed or the kiss you just shared. Regardless, you have never felt more ready to see where the night takes you. Once the two of you buckle up, Harry starts the car.

“Ready?”

It was such a simple question but it has so much meaning. Not finding it in you to reply, you simply nod. “Mhmm.”

Minutes have passed and the car ride so far was nothing but silent. It was a comfortable silence. It was peaceful yet you also feel the adrenaline rush coursing through your veins. The ever growing tension could be cut with a knife.

You clear your throat to get Harry’s attention once again. “You know, you never got me a present.” You say.

“A present? Well, there anything in particular you want for your birthday?”

For you to pull over and fuck me in the backseat, please.

“Erm...no. Nothing I can think of.”

“Well, if you think of anything, just let me know. Yeah?” He mumbles as he takes a hand from the steering wheel to hold your thigh.

It probably didn’t mean much but you feel yourself becoming tense. His hand is close to feeling your wetness. You hope he can’t tell.

Harry looks over again at you before he speaks up. “Everything okay?”

You try to play it cool before you reply “Yeah, all good.”

Silence.

“Actually, do you think you can pull over? There’s something I need you to do.”

“Now? Sure it can’t wait?” Harry inquires.

You nod your head a little too eagerly. “Alright. I’ll find somewhere safe to pull over.”

Another few minutes pass and the next thing you knew, you’re parked in an almost empty parking lot to a store that’s just about to close. Harry parks the car in an empty corner of the lot for a bit of privacy and to avoid any paparazzi lurking around to expose his whereabouts for the night.

“Alright, what did you ne—“

You interrupt his question just to tug him to you, crashing your lips onto his once again. It takes a second but after the initial shock has passed, Harry kisses you back with just as much fervor. The air around you almost immediately heats up despite it being cold outside and you can’t help but moan at the contrast of the heat and coolness around you.

You pull away from his lips to get some air, far enough to get some air but close enough that your lips are just barely ghosting over his.

“Backseat.” You whisper.

In record time, Harry opens the driver seat door and runs around to the passenger side to open the door for you. He puts out his hand for you to take. You accept it and the two of you make your way to the backseat after you leave the front of the car. In the midst of it all, he is still a gentleman.

The moment the door closes and Harry gets settled in the backseat with you on his lap, your knees pressing on either side of his thighs, you resume with your previous activities. With him below you, you realize you have the upper hand having just a bit more control. And with that in mind, you grind your pelvis on his to test the waters and he groans at the sensation. Today is one of the few occasions you’re grateful for wearing a dress, particularly the black satin dress Harry has been begging you to wear since the day he bought it for you. You were always hesitant to wear it considering it was something outside your comfort zone. But you’re so glad you decided to wear it today.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet. Can feel ya on my trousers.” Harry moans.

You don’t say anything back. Instead, you grind on him once more and you feel both of his hands grip your hips so that they hold still. His hold on your hips is so hard you already feel the bruises forming the next morning.

“This what you wanted? Hm? This why you wanted me to pull over?”

Not being able to form words, you nod your head vigorously. You dip your head down to place kisses on his neck. Before you know it, you feel a tug on your hair (which is conveniently put up in a ponytail), forcing you to make eye contact with Harry. You moan at the slight dominance he established over you.

“I’m going to ask you again. Is this why you wanted me to pull over?” Harry asks, voice deep and rough.

“Y-yes.” You whine. You watch as another smirk forms on his face. You crash your lips onto his for the thousandth time that night at the same time grinding yourself on him, letting him know exactly what you want.

“Mmm if only everyone knew how fuckkng filthy you are for me. So sweet when really you’re just on your knees like this, begging for my cock to be inside your pussy. My pussy.” He groans.

Not wanting to waste any more time, you drag your hands to the belt buckle of his pants, quickly unbuckling his pants.

Harry watches you adoringly as you hurriedly remove his belt and pull his pants down just enough to tug him out.

You hear him groan at the relief of not being constricted by his pants. You stroke his hard-on with your hand once, then twice. Harry whines impatiently, lifting his hips up to meet your hand to get more.

Before he can ask, you pull your black lace underwear to the side (which is soaked at this point). You line up his tip to your entrance, slowly taking him in inch by inch. You both sigh at the pleasure. Once Harry is completely buried in you and you’re sat comfortably on his lap, you lift your hips until the tip is just barely inside of you before sitting back down again.

“Oh...fuck...” you say. “Shit, feels so good.”

“Yeah? Feel so snug and warm. I could stay inside of yeh forever if I could.”

The combination of him inside you and his words made you shiver. Nothing but moans, Harry’s name, and profanities tumble out of your mouth, as if they’re the only words you know. You throw head back in pleasure and Harry takes the opportunity to bury his face into your neck, kissing your sweet spot there.

“Oh my...fuck yes Harry. Just like that, please. Best birthday present I could ever ask for.

“Yeah? Having my cock inside yeh? Was going to surprise you with your present at home but someone got too excited.”

You moan at the thought. “Mmm...I’m sorry I—I just thought you looked so fucking good tonight. I can’t help it. I need you.”

At this, you feel Harry move faster, thrusting in and out of you. Harry wraps his arms around you to hold you still while he thrusts his hips up into you. The feeling makes you groan louder and louder, not giving any care in the world if any outsiders hear you. It’s the last thing on your mind: worrying if you could be heard.

You feel one of Harry’s hands makes its way up to your shoulder, tugging on the strap of your dress. You shiver when you realize he pulled down the top of dress enough for one of your bare breasts to be exposed to the outside cool air, making your nipple harden. You feel his mouth travel down to your collarbone, placing a kiss there, before finally reaching your chest, taking your exposed nipple in hi mouth.

Looking up at you, he tugs your hair once more, making your eyes once again meet his. The sensation of him inside you, thrusting in and out, and the intense eye contact is making your stomach coil, a telltale sign that you are close to coming. You gasp when you feel his fingers pinch your nipple.

“C-close. I’m so close. I’m going to cum, Harry. Please let me cum.”

Harry speeds up his thrusts, getting you closer and closer to crashing down from your release. You focus on getting yourself to your release but you just needed one more push.

As if he read your mind, Harry drags his hand that was on your chest down to the apex of your thighs, his slightly calloused fingertips meeting your clit. You jolt at the sensation of his fingers rubbing hard and fast circles on your clit, just where you need it.

“Cum.”

It was a simple command and it was all you needed to push yourself over the edge. Once you came down from your high, and you brought yourself back down to earth, the two of you just stayed there, in the backseat of the Mercedes. The white leather seats probably stained from the sex and sweat but neither of you caring. Just the two of you in each other’s arms, with your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat rhythmically.

After a few moments, you remove your head from his chest to look up at him. You see him already looking down at you.

“Thank you.” You whisper, your voice coarse and dry.

“Mmm...you’re welcome,” he says as places a kiss on your forehead. “That was only a sneak peek. Your real present is waiting for you at home.”

#this is so unedited so sorry for any mistakes but i’m going proofreading this #harry styles au #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader

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esperantoauthor · 3 years

Text

Title: Let Me Hold Your Hand Author: Esperanto | Beta Reader: @blaineandersimp Rating: T Status: Complete (4,349 words) Genre: Hurt/Comfort (emotional)

Summary: For months now, Kurt has wanted nothing more than for Blaine to hold his hand. He has yearned for it, ached for it. But now, now that it is finally happening the only hand Kurt wants to hold is his Dad’s. [or, what if the order of events in season 2 were different and Burt's heart attack happened *after* Kurt and Blaine became close friends?]

✨ Read it on Ao3 or below the cut ✨

It started off as a painfully ordinary day.

Life-changing events shouldn’t be allowed to happen on days like this, with the sun shining and fluffy white clouds in the air. On a day when his pop quiz was cancelled and they actually served something edible in the cafeteria. It should have happened on a horribly overcast day where a thick layer of cloud cover kept the sun from shining a single ray of hope down to the ground.

It shouldn’t have happened at all.

—

Terror grips his heart as soon as Ms. Pillsbury pulls him out of class. He can see the bad news written in the stern lines of her face.

“Kurt, your father had a heart attack.”

The world shatters around him, splintering into a thousand jagged pieces that catch against his skin. Kurt blurts out the first question that pops into his head.

“Is he dead?”

Kurt presses through the rushing in his ears to hear her response. “No, Kurt. He’s in critical condition; that’s all they would tell me. Kurt, I’m so sorry; you must be so scared.”

The air around him is thick like molasses, his face is numb, and his heart is pounding so loudly he can hear each beat ricocheting around in his skull. He doesn’t know what this feeling is. Desperation? Shock?

He stares at her wordlessly, eyes wide, as his world falls apart.

She looks so earnestly concerned that Kurt wants to slap her. How dare she look so sympathetic when she has no idea what this feels like. What it feels like to be going through this for the second time.

“I need to see him, please,” he begs.

“Of course,” Ms. Pillsbury says with a nod. “I’ll take you there now.

—

Coma.

Kurt flexes the fingers in his hands, stretching them out as far as he can, wiggling each finger just to feel his own body move, to make sure it is still there.

His father is in a coma.

Kurt wishes he had written down what the doctor had told him because he’s already forgotten most of it. Not that word though. He’s watched enough soap operas and medical dramas to know that a coma is bad. Really bad. It’s the kind of thing people wake up from with amnesia. At least on TV.

They won’t let him in the room and it takes every ounce of control he possesses not to scream in frustration. He imagines the windows in the ICU waiting room shattering but instead he finds a vending machine and fumbles his way into procuring a diet coke.

The drink is blessedly cold and the sugar seems to kickstart his brain a little bit. When was the last time he ate? Kurt is not sure how much time has passed.

Ms. Pillsbury is still sitting primly in the waiting room chair, glancing nervously whenever someone coughs. Kurt remembers that she is a germaphobe and in a brief moment of clarity he manages to feel grateful that she is here with him anyways, even if it must be hard for her to be in a place like this, surrounded by germs and disease.

“Kurt? There are a few things we need to get settled.”

What could possibly matter when his father is lying in a room somewhere and no one can tell him if he is going to wake up?

“I need to make sure that someone is looking after you tonight. We need to find you a friend or a relative to stay with.”

“I want to stay here,” he says firmly.

She presses her lips together. “I’ll see if that can be arranged. But right now, no one knows besides you, me, and Principal Figgins. I can’t stay here all night with you Kurt but I don’t want you to be alone. Is there a friend who might come sit with you?”

Kurt nearly asks for Mercedes but instead… “I guess I could call Blaine.”

“Who’s that?”

“He’s a friend of mine. He doesn’t go to McKinley but I… I feel safe when he’s around.”

Ms. Pillsbury nods softly and writes down the name. “Who else? Anyone close to Burt who should know? Do we need to call his workplace?”

“Oh my god, Carole! No one has told Carole.”

Ms. Pillsbury looks at him with a puzzled expression.

“My dad’s girlfriend,” he explains. “Carole Hudson? Finn’s mom.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful I didn’t realize that they were involved.”

Kurt finds her sudden perkiness unsettling. He clears his throat and looks at her expectantly.

“Would you like me to call her?”

“Please.”

—

When Kurt asks him to come to the hospital, for a brief terrible moment Blaine fears that the worst has happened and Karofsky has made good on his threats. Rage boils red hot in his chest at the thought of anyone harming Kurt, who is the best person he’s ever met.

“It’s my…it’s my dad, Blaine.” Kurt can barely get the words out, his voice cracking on the word ‘dad.’

“I’m on my way.”

—

The messy head of curls peering around the room is the first good thing that Kurt has seen since he heard the news. He catches Blaine’s eye and waves him over. Blaine deftly weaves his way through the backpacks and nurses until he makes it to the corner where Kurt and Ms. Pillsbury are waiting.

Blaine just stares at him, hazel eyes wide, before he pulls Kurt into his arms for a bone crushing hug. “I’m so sorry, Kurt. So, so sorry,” he whispers into Kurt’s ear, pulling him tighter, rubbing up and down his back.

It is the first moment of true comfort he has experienced since he heard the news and somehow that breaks the dam. Tears, hot and messy, finally come and he buries his face in Blaine’s shoulder, letting the thick fabric of Blaine’s sweater absorb his sorrow.

“Oh, Kurt,” Blaine says softly.

Somehow Blaine lowers them both onto the bench without letting go of Kurt. Kurt holds tight to the front of Blaine’s sweater, unwilling to chance that he might pull back before Kurt is ready for the world to see his face.

Blaine just lets Kurt use him, soak up comfort from him, asking nothing in return. He says nothing to acknowledge that they have only hugged briefly a few times before this and surely Kurt is asking too much of his friend right now.

But Blaine just lets him. Folds himself into whatever shape Kurt needs and just holds him, keeps him steady, supports him so he doesn’t fall to the floor and actually crack into pieces.

“Thank you for coming, Blaine,” he hears Ms. Pillsbury say, making conversation as if Kurt can’t hear them. “I’m so glad he has a friend to support him during this difficult time. Or… he said friend but, I mean…” she fumbles over her words.

Blaine’s chest bounces a few times with silent laughter. “We’re just friends, ma’am.”

“I’m just glad that he has someone. Kurt doesn’t… he doesn’t open up easily. Glee club has been so good for him. He’s made friends and they look out for each other. Will you two be alright if I head out? Carole is getting here as quickly as she can.”

“I’ve got him,” Blaine assures her.

—

After an eternity, they finally let Kurt see his dad.

Blaine shuffles his feet awkwardly. He wants to do whatever Kurt needs but he doesn’t know what that is. Does Kurt need moral support when he sees his dad for the first time or would it better to give him privacy? How is he supposed to know something like that? But asking feels like a burden.

A warm hand slips into Blaine’s. “Come?” Kurt asks hesitantly. Blaine nods and follows Kurt. He wonders where he wouldn’t follow his friend.

The door creaks when they open it and Kurt lets out a little gasp when he finally lays eyes on his father. There’s a feeding tube running into his nose and electrodes stuck to his skin, monitors beeping out their indecipherable codes. But at least they are beeping which is better than the alternative.

Kurt squeezes his hand so hard that Blaine grits his teeth. He waits for Kurt to move, to take a step towards his dad, perhaps to run to him. But Kurt just stands there, frozen.

Blaine gives him a minute but then, when he still doesn’t move, he pulls gently on Kurt’s hand, urging him to walk closer. Kurt finally snaps out of it and then suddenly he is the one dragging Blaine over to the bed.

“Dad,” he cries out. “I’m here, Dad. Please, you need to wake up.”

Blaine’s hand hurts but he resolves that he isn’t going to let go until Kurt decides it is time. His friend needs him and if this is what he has to give then it is Kurt’s, for as long as he needs it. Kurt who is so strong and so kind. Kurt whose whole world is this middle-aged mostly bald man that Blaine has only met once.

—

For months now, Kurt has wanted nothing more than for Blaine to hold his hand. He has yearned for it, ached for it. But now, now that it is finally happening the only hand Kurt wants to hold is his Dad’s.

“Squeeze my hand, Dad. I need to know that you can hear me.”

Nothing. Just a cold, limp hand that doesn’t squeeze back.

So he holds onto Blaine’s because it is warm and full of life and Kurt needs that right now. It crosses his mind that if circumstances were different, this would be exhilarating. If circumstances were different. He swallows thickly. He would give anything for circumstances to be different. He would even give up Blaine, who is becoming so important to him so fast, for circumstances to be different.

“Did I ever tell you about my tea parties?” he asks Blaine.

Blaine smiles fondly and shakes his head.

“It was one of my favorite games when I was little. I would arrange all of my stuffed animals and action figures, setting out little plates of cucumber sandwiches and giving everyone just the amount of sugar and milk that they asked for, making sure that everyone had what they needed.”

“Of course you did,” Blaine says, his smile growing wider.

If Kurt’s heart hadn’t beat itself into exhaustion hours ago, it might have skipped a beat.

“It’s not every dad that will play tea party with their son but he always said ‘yes,’ no matter how ridiculous he thought it was.”

“My dad definitely wouldn’t have done something like that with me,” Blaine replies solemnly.

Kurt’s heart, already broken and bleeding, still manages to ache for his friend. Blaine rarely talks about his parents. Kurt had assumed they were just very busy being high-powered executives but this latest revelation suggests that there is more to it than that. He gives Blaine’s hand a comforting squeeze and a questioning look.

“It was a long time ago, Kurt.” Blaine shrugs. “The tea parties sound really special.”

He nods. “And after she… after we lost her. I hadn’t played with it in years but suddenly that was all I wanted to do. I just wanted everyone to have their tea and their cookies. Why was that so important to me?”

“I don’t know,” Blaine responds. “Maybe you wanted to take care of them just like your mom used to take care of you?”

“I—“ Kurt stares at him wonderstruck. “Yeah, maybe. I…I never thought about it that way.”

Blaine shrugs. “I mean what do I know? I wasn’t there. I just… I mean just from how you described it and knowing you I just thought…I don’t know, I mean, please ignore me, I don’t know anything.”

“You know me,” Kurt counters.

Blaine squeezes his hand.

“Yeah. I know you.”

—

Blaine tries to wiggle some of the feeling back into his fingers without waking Kurt. He told himself he would let Kurt hold his hand as long as he wanted but he hadn’t thought through the repercussions of Kurt falling asleep clutching his hand, head resting on Blaine’s shoulder. His circulation isn’t aware that Kurt needs him.

He manages to readjust his arm enough that the blood starts to flow back into his hand. He sighs to himself in the silence and the half-darkness.

Blaine isn’t sure how Kurt is able to sleep with the beeping of the machines and the nurses coming in once an hour to check Burt’s vitals.

He must be exhausted.

Blaine wonders if he should have gone home. He didn’t exactly plan to spend the night with Kurt in his father’s hospital room. He figured he would come by, be there for Kurt, make sure he had something to eat, and then return home a couple hours later. But once he was there… he couldn’t tear himself away. Why couldn’t he tear himself away? Why was Kurt’s pain so utterly heartbreaking to see? Why was he so determined to do anything in his power to ease it, even slightly?

Blaine has always been a caring friend but he can’t imagine himself doing anything like this for Wesley or David.

But Kurt is just… Kurt has the biggest heart of anyone Blaine has ever met and he simply cannot stand to sit idly by while it is breaking.

An idea, half-formed, presses at the back of his mind, not quite coherent enough yet to rise to the forefront of his thoughts, but there nonetheless. Answers to those questions. The reasons to the why. He tries again to find a comfortable position on the chair and closes his eyes, hoping he can sleep a little before the nurse comes back.

—

Kurt isn’t sure where he is when he first wakes up. It takes a few sleepy moments before the unfamiliar sounds and smells alert him to the fact that he is definitely not in his bedroom. He starts to lift his arm to rub the sleep from his eyes but something heavy is holding it down.

Blaine.

Kurt stills, not wanting to wake his friend. Blaine’s hair is adorably rumpled from sleep and his clothes, once so neatly pressed, are scrunched and stretched from shifting around all night. Kurt feels the hot breath of Blaine’s exhale hit his neck and a shiver runs down his spine. Careful not to wake him, Kurt untangles himself from Blaine and tiptoes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and make use of the change of clothes he’d asked Blaine to bring him.

He feels fresher when he returns to the room, two paper cups of coffee in hand and smelling like Blaine’s laundry detergent.

“I’m sorry about the pants,” Blaine says when Kurt returns to the room.

Kurt shrugs. “They’re clean, which is about all I care about right now.”

“Never thought I’d see the day,” Blaine mutters as he accepts the coffee from Kurt. “You are a godsend, you know that?”

Kurt laughs and then he claps a hand to his mouth. His father is lying there in who knows what condition and here he is laughing.

“He would want you to laugh,” Blaine says softly.

Still stinging with embarrassment, Kurt lashes out. “How would you know?”

Blaine gapes at him. “I…I wouldn’t. I’m sorry, Kurt, I shouldn’t say stuff like that. I was trying to be comforting but, you’re right. I hardly know him. I just know how much he means to you.”

“I’m sorry, Blaine. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I just… would it be ridiculous if I said it has been a long day?”

“Not in the slightest.”

Blaine offers his hand and Kurt accepts it gladly.

After coffee, they chat about reality TV and exchange show choir war stories, acting like Kurt’s world isn’t hanging in the balance just a few feet away in that hospital bed.

When the doctor comes by, Kurt listens eagerly for any scrap of good news but all he hears is that nothing has changed since yesterday.

The doctor leaves and Kurt sets his chair next to the bed, taking his father’s hand and silently begging him to give him a sign, give him anything to show that he is going to pull through this.

Blaine is there too, letting Kurt hold tight to him, letting Kurt hold his hand.

—

The exhaustion of barely sleeping the night before finally catches up with Blaine, and he nods off in his chair, head lolling onto Kurt’s shoulder.

When he wakes up, it is to the purest and most beautiful singing that he has ever heard.

Oh please, say to me

You'll let me be your man

And please, say to me

You'll let me hold your hand

I want to hold your hand

“I’m right here, Dad,” Kurt whispers. The words cut at Blaine’s heart like dull knives. He rubs his thumb over the knuckles on Kurt’s hand, hoping that his touch can offer some small comfort to his friend in this moment of despair.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“How long was I out?” Blaine asks.

“About an hour. The nurse came by ten minutes ago and said there was no change. Blaine… I keep asking but they keep saying there is no way to tell when he will wake up. It could be hours or days or… “ Kurt trails off as if he cannot bear the thought of a longer unit of time.

“I’m so sorry, Kurt. I can’t even imagine how hard this is for you. Is there anything else I can do to help? Do you want me to get anything from your house or…?”

“Just stay with me? Please.”

“As long as you want me to,” he promises.

Kurt smiles warmly at him and squeezes his hand. Kurt mutters something under his breath. Blaine can’t make out most of the words but he swears one of them is “always.”

Always. He turns the word over in his mind and in his heart. His chest feels warm. There is that thought again, not yet coherent but gradually taking shape. The reasons to the why.

“Dad?” Kurt’s voice pulls him from his thoughts. “Dad! I’m right here Dad.”

“Kurt?” Blaine doesn’t understand Kurt’s sudden excitement.

“He moved. Oh my god, Blaine, he moved; I’m sure of it. I squeezed his hand and then I felt it.”

Blaine jumps to his feet, fumbling for the call button which he can’t seem to locate. “Nurse! NURSE!” he shouts loudly. Footsteps sound in the hallway and one of the nurses appears in the doorway, out of breath.

“He moved!” Kurt says in disbelief, tears of joy welling up in his eyes. “He’s waking up. My Dad is waking up.”

The nurse jumps into action, fiddling with the monitors and clamping something onto Burt’s hand. “Kurt, I need to warn you, he may be very confused when he wakes up. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything. It’s important that you stay calm.” She turns to Kurt’s dad, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Mr. Hummel? It’s time to wake up Mr. Hummel. Your son really wants to say hello.”

At first, it seems as though nothing is happening. Burt’s fingers wiggle a few more times. Tears run down Kurt’s cheeks that he doesn’t bother to brush away.

Minutes pass.

Blaine wonders if he needs to remind Kurt to breathe.

Then eyelashes flutter and Burt’s cerulean eyes, the exact same shade as Kurt’s, crack open and Kurt let’s out an audible gasp.

“Dad? I’m here Dad. I’m right here.”

“Hey, kiddo,” Burt whispers roughly.

“Dad!” Kurt responds with wonder. Kurt leans forward and grasps his father’s hand with both of his now. Blaine’s hand drops heavily to his thigh. He stares at it as if a foreign object. He’s barely had it to himself for more than a few minutes to use the restroom since he got here. Kurt doesn’t need him anymore. His hand feels too light suddenly, without the weight of Kurt bearing down on it, keeping it grounded. He feels untethered.

Kurt is whispering in hushed voices with his father and Blaine leans back in his chair, the full weight of the past 24 hours hitting him all at once. He could probably sleep for a week. He tries to remember the last time he checked in with his parents, but he isn’t sure. He decides he needs to take a walk. Stretch his legs. Maybe hunt down some coffee. Have a few moments alone with his thoughts.

He’s about to tell Kurt where he is going but he can’t bear to interrupt the emotional family reunion happening beside him. Kurt won’t notice his absence. He leaves without a word.

The too-bright lights of the hospital thrum overhead as he wanders down the corridor. He looks to his left to see a family jubilant as they sign release papers, a middle-aged man in a wheelchair looking eager to go home. He looks to his right and he sees a woman sitting on the floor, head in her hands, weeping like the world is ending. The hospital is a topsy-turvy kind of place. Dreamlike, almost.

Eventually he finds a vending machine that dispenses coffee. Blaine isn’t looking forward to drinking it but at this point he needs the caffeine enough to be desperate. He inserts enough cash for two coffees and carefully punches the buttons so he doesn’t order the wrong thing.

The rhythmic thudding of his feet on the shiny linoleum floors feels grounding as he makes his way back to the hospital room.

“Blaine!” Kurt calls out his name eagerly when he enters the room. “I was worried you had left without saying goodbye.”

Blaine is surprised by how disappointed Kurt sounds.

“Nah, just went to get some coffees. I figured we could both use a little pick-me-up.”

“You are a gentleman and a scholar,” Kurt praises, reaching out his hand to accept the paper cup.

Kurt blows on the hot drink and gives Blaine a soft, contemplative look. “I don’t know how to thank you for this Blaine.”

“It’s just vending machine coffee, Kurt.”

Kurt bumps his knee into Blaine’s playfully. “You know that’s not what I mean. I can’t believe you stayed with me this whole time. Not a lot of people would do that.”

“There aren’t a lot of people I would do that for,” Blaine admits. Kurt is special. Kurt has always been special, but over the last 24 hours it has become painfully obvious to Blaine just how special he is. His devotion to his father has moved Blaine.

Oh.

There it is. The reason to the why.

Kurt smiles and holds his hand out, a question in his eyes. Blaine smiles and reaches back, lacing their fingers together.

“I can’t believe that before yesterday I’d never held a boy’s hand before. And now I’ve held one for 24 hours straight. I might never let you go, Blaine. I’m addicted.”

“I could think of worse things to endure,” Blaine says with a smirk.

They fall silent, neither boy sure what to say, but both of them feeling something huge and irrepressible bubbling up in their hearts. Kurt let’s his thumb trace circles lightly on Blaine’s skin and Blaine feels his heartbeat begin to pick up and his mouth turns to cotton.

“Kurt I—”

“Blaine?”

“I lied.”

Kurt flinches and yanks his hand back, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion and distrust.

I’m doing this all wrong.

“No, no that’s not what I meant. I... “ he reaches hesitantly for Kurt’s hand, asking, “Please?”

Kurt nods hesitantly. Blaine takes Kurt’s hand, holding it firmly with both of his, looking right into Kurt’s eyes.

“When I said there weren’t many people I would do this for. I lied. The truth is that there is only one person I would do this for. Because there is only one person I care about that much, whose happiness means so much to me that I couldn’t bear to see him sad without doing everything I could to comfort him.”

“Wow, I… Blaine, that’s really sweet. You’re my best friend and—”

Blaine cuts him off because he can’t bear to hear Kurt misunderstand. “ — no, no that’s not what I mean!” He desperately wants Kurt to understand. He needs Kurt to understand. Words fail him but his hands have known what to do since he got here.

They do not fail him now. He is reaching and finding and holding and guiding. Kurt’s lips are salty with tears when he finally tastes them, yet somehow the sweetest thing he’s ever known.

Blaine pulls back and clamps his hand over his mouth in horror. He can’t believe what he’s just done. Kurt’s father nearly died and all he is thinking about is kissing. Kurt is vulnerable right now and here he is throwing himself at him. This has to be the most inappropriate thing he has ever done.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry, Kurt.” He leaps to his feet and pushes down the urge to bolt from the room.

Kurt looks up at him in amusement. He crosses his arms. “Well you should be.”

Blaine hangs his head. “I know. I know. I just, I haven’t slept and it has been such an emotional day— not that that is any excuse. That was deeply inappropriate, I mean your father is upstairs getting an EEG for crying out loud and—”

Blaine stops blabbering when he feels something brush his cheek. He lifts his head to see that Kurt is inches away from him. “You should be sorry for taking so long to figure it out, dummy.”

Blaine’s heart soars and their lips crash together. Kurt lets out a soft whine that electrifies Blaine’s heart.

Kurt’s hand finds his and their fingers intertwine. Blaine is so very happy that he let Kurt hold his hand.

Even better, now he never has to let go.

#my fic #glee fanfiction #klaine fanfiction #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #s2e3 grilled cheesus inspired #one shot #happy ending #world's best dad #burt hummel #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #klaine #glee #read it on ao3 #read it on tumblr #let me hold your hand

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notyourdayrdream · 3 years

Text

Summer’s Almost Over (So Come Spend it with Me)

Tan Hands and Tan Lines Day Four Side A: Tenacious

read it here on AO3

By the time Blaine pulled up to Tina’s house, the sun was already beginning to set past the horizon. They were gonna be late.

When Rachel invited him to her fourth of July barbecue a week ago, he had actually been excited. He had only met a few of the New Directions, and they were nice, but this time he was hoping to win them all over. It was summer, and their show choir rivalry was over for the year. Besides, he was dating their teammate, and that had to count for something.

As the date grew closer though, he felt that familiar knot in the pit of his stomach. Blaine knew how important the group was to Kurt. They were his second family, and their approval of him would mean a lot. He couldn’t screw this up.

So Blaine made the best peach cobbler he could, wrapped it in tin foil and set it in the passenger seat of his car. Of course he didn’t have to bring anything, but first (or second) impressions were everything. He settled for a more casual look, an open graphic button down and dark green swim trunks. He gelled his hair down only a little, knowing it would probably wash out anyway.

And he told Tina that he could drive her there. Apparently, he would pass her neighborhood on the ride to Lima anyway. She didn’t have to know he got hopelessly lost trying to find her house.

She was one of the club members Blaine hadn’t officially met yet. They talked briefly at prom for his performance, but that was it. She seemed nice, if not a little stand-offish around him.

He tapped the horn twice, and it took another minute or so for her to come out of the front door. She had on a long black skirt and a black bikini top. Kurt did mention that she liked the color.

“We had to bring something?” She said instead of a hello, sliding into the passenger seat and setting the cobbler in her lap. “Ooh, it’s still warm.” Her eyelids were covered in sparkly blue eyeshadow, eyeliner perfectly winged.

“No, um. It was just the…nice thing to do?” He offered, feeling suddenly self conscious about the decision. She nodded and pulled out her phone, typing at a rapid speed. They pulled out of the driveway and back onto the main road in relative silence.

They just passed the ‘Welcome to Lima!’ sign when Tina exclaimed, “Oh! I made you this.” She pressed a bracelet into his wrist, which he grabbed at the next stoplight.

It said his name on it, spelled out with alternating black and white beads. The band was made of thin red rope, and there were tiny bird and bowtie pins attached. It was a friendship bracelet.

While Blaine was stunned to silence, Tina rushed to explain. “I just thought, y’know since you’re dating Kurt, you’re basically an honorary New Directions member.”

“I made one for everybody, I think they’re starting to catch on,” she added with a wink.

“You made this?” Blaine squaked. He slid it onto his wrist before making a right at the intersection. There were ties on the end, and after some adjustments it fit snugly.

She shrugged. “Yeah, well Kurt had some say in it too,” Tina said. Blaine’s heart swelled, because of course he did. “But I made the bowtie charm out of some recycled plastic.”

“Thank you so much, Tina.” Blaine grinned at her. He saw her pale skin blush out of the corner of his eye.

“He really cares about you,” she said, tugging at her own bracelet. It was lime green, popping against her various shades of black. “I mean, he cried when he came back to McKinley, he missed you so much.” Blaine grinned at that and filed it in his mind for things to tease Kurt about when they were older.

“He told me that you saved his life,” she continued.

Blaine gasped quietly to himself at that. He never knew Kurt was hurting so bad. To say that he saved his life meant a lot. It meant everything, actually.

“So if you ever hurt him, I’ll kill you.” Tina made a slicing motion at her neck, deathly serious. “Or burn your bowties, whichever hurts more.” She laughed at her own threat, and Blaine couldn’t help but laugh too.

Once she sobered up, Tina messed with the radio until ‘Love on Top’ by Beyoncé blared from the car’s speakers. They glanced at each other, eyes gleaming with an unspoken challenge of who could do the most modulations.

By the time the car pulled up to Rachel’s house, they had talked their way through all of the released Marvel movies. Tina ranted about how Thor was hot, dyed eyebrows and all. They exchanged numbers and made plans to watch Captain America on opening night.

They were just under an hour late, the sun replaced by the moon and stars. A few porch lights were still on, and cars pulled into driveways after long days at work. Still, Blaine could hear a pounding base coming from the backyard. He opened the back gate for Tina and stepped onto cool concrete.

“There you guys are! We were getting worried!” Rachel cried, wrapping Tina and then Blaine into a hug. Quinn followed behind and took the dessert from his hands. Rachel shouted to the rest of the group, “Tina and Blaine are here!” Everyone waved and cheered, Puck clapping him on the back as he walked by.

“It’s okay, we had a lot of fun.” Tina smiled and wrapped an arm around Blaine’s neck. And yeah, he realized, they really did. Between singing along to the Top 40 radio station and talking about the ridiculous things both of their boyfriends have done, he hadn’t even noticed that his anxiety about the night had left him somewhere along the highway. He had made a friend without having to put on some sort of mask.

Someone cleared their throat behind them. “Could I have my boyfriend now?” Kurt said from behind them, feigning annoyance. Tina poked his ribs before sliding off and crouching above Mike, who swam over to her.

Blaine felt the blood rush to his face at the sight of his boyfriend with no shirt on. His pale skin was wet and his blue shorts clung to his legs. Yeah, they’ve made out quite a few times, but they never went past second base. He never knew Kurt’s arms did that when he moved.

“Hi. You look, I mean…” When words failed, Blaine opted for kissing him quickly on the cheek. Kurt rolled his eyes fondly and took his hand, leading them to a lawn chair.

“How’d it go?” He asked, whipping his dripping wet hair back off his forehead. He wrung his hands together as he waited for an answer.

“Awh, you’re nervous,” Blaine teased.

Kurt huffed but didn’t deny it, instead rolling his eyes for the second time that night. “Be quiet and answer me.”

“How am I supposed to be quiet and answer you?”

“Blaine.”

“It was fine, Tina’s great.” He threw his wrist into Kurt’s view. “She made me this.” Even though they had only officially met an hour ago, Blaine felt the need to brag about her handiwork.

“Yeah well, Tina’s tenacious about these things,” Kurt muttered, fixing the collar on Blaine’s shirt. His own bracelet dangled off his left wrist. Without looking too hard, Blaine spotted what looked like a tiny slice of cheesecake as a charm. Tina would have to teach him how to make those.

“I heard she had some help,” Blaine whispered, setting his hands around Kurt’s waist to pull him closer.

“Oh yeah?” Kurt smirked. His eyes darted up to his boyfriend’s eyes then back to his lips in a sort of triangle. They both leaned in and began to close their eyes, until they felt water hit their thighs.

Santana splashed them again with water from her pool float. “Ewww, get a room, Leprechaun Gays!” They flipped her off in sync. She cackled and pushed her sunglasses off her face. Blaine was starting to understand the faces Kurt made whenever she was mentioned.

Kurt chuckled behind his hand. “Okay, let’s go get some food before it’s all gone, you know how Finn eats. Mercedes’ dad made burgers.”

Blaine shook his head and layed on the chair. “Can we just stay here for a bit?” He made grabby hands at Kurt, even if it was totally embarrassing.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asked, but still nuzzling into his chest. Height difference be damned. “Did Tina say something to you?”

Blaine kissed the top of Kurt’s head. “Nah. I just really love you is all.”

#spaceorphan’s sophisticated challenge: tenacious #tan lines and tan hands #glee #writing #klaine fic #klaine fanfiction #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #everyone say blainetina rights!

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ve1vetyoongi · 4 years

Text

better with you | 02

Chapters: index

Pairing: Seokjin x female reader

Genre: fake dating/arranged marriage!au, smut, angst, humour.

Word count: 18k

Summary: A part time job as a chef at Paradise Resort seems like the perfect way to spend your summer and save up some spare cash to open your own restaurant back home. That is until you cross paths with the CEO’s son who threatens to fire you if you don’t help him inherit his trust-fund-baby-fortune. How? By making you his fiancé. Well, his pretend fiancé at least.

Warnings: (mostly) fluffy smut, unprotected penetrative sex, handjobs, oral (f recieving), creampie, spanking, lots of pining hhhhhh.

A/N: HELLO omg it’s literally been so long since i updated this fic and let me tell you it was so fun to finally write for these characters again!!! thank u for everyone who has sent lovely asks about the first chapter and for waiting so long for the next one! ily and i hope ur all staying safe and well during these crazy times my honeybuns <3<3

"Seokjin," You gasp. "N-not here."

Fingers toy with the hem of the expensive sequin dress you found wrapped up in tissue paper on your bed that morning, edging agonizingly closer to the damp throb between your legs that under normal circumstances would require immediate attention from Seokjin -- if only you weren't in the back seat of one of the Kim's private cars.

"Why not?" Seokjin mumbles against your neck, the way his plump lips nibble the lobe of your ear making you shiver. "I know you're wet for me. Nobody has to know if I just..."

His palm cups your heat brazenly, and you have to bite back a moan, cheeks flushing when Seokjin chuckles low and gravelly against your ear. Your arrangement as you've taken to calling it has been going on for a few weeks now, Seokjin dragging you along to family outings and fancy dinners as his fiance and rewarding you with sensual rendezvous and get-to-know-me time in between.

"I know you want it, sweetheart." He drags a finger down your panties and you whimper. "Just say the magic word, and I'll give it to you."

Oh god. You are so weak for his touch, and he knows it. The things Seokjin's tousled hair and cocky smirk make you feel should be illegal. Anyone would think you have the sex drive of a teenage boy, constantly eager to jump his bones just looking at him. But not now, not here. The windows might be tinted, but you are sure you spot the chauffeur's eyes drifting to the backseat in the rear view mirror.

"Sir," The driver coughs, eyes trained politely to the steering wheel. The car has stopped at some point, not that either of you noticed. "We have arrived."

Seokjin flashes you a satisfied look as his hand reluctantly slips out from beneath your skirt so he can fish around in his back pocket for his leather wallet, throwing a couple fifty dollar bills on the front seat as a tip. "Thanks, Pierre."

You're still busy straightening your skirt when the car door opens and a black-gloved hand helps you out onto the sidewalk. You can't help but blush ferociously when you meet the driver's knowing gaze, a smirk playing on his lips. "No problem, sir'"

"I'll take it from here." Seokjin nods to the driver and slips his elbow through yours. Pierre lifts his black cap, before getting back into his shiny Mercedes and whizzing off into the city traffic.

Your legs shake in your stilettos, partly because you're not used to walking in anything other than your beat up converse but mostly because of the reassuring smile Seokjin sends your when when he see's you glancing around nervously.

You're in a upper class part of town, the street lined with shiny black cabs and designer boutiques with French names you can't even pronounce. You can't help but feel out of place, like the eyes of every passerby see right through your immaculate rich facade and see you for the ordinary kitchen girl that you really are.

"Don't worry," He leans down, pressing his lips to your ear so only you can hear as he pretends to adjust your diamond necklace. At least you think its diamond...what would you know? "You look beautiful. Just relax."

A small smile plays on your lips. Beautiful. It makes your heart flutter like a butterfly between cupped palms, even though you know it shouldn't. That's been happening a lot lately, and you don't like how easily he can make you melt. Snap out of it! You tell yourself.

Still, his reassurance makes you feel more at ease than before, and you straighten your shoulders with a new found confidence as Seokjin takes your hand in his, even if it is just for show. You have to make the fiance thing believable, after all.

"You still haven't told me where we're going." It's true -- Seokjin is good at keeping secrets. Probably because he knew that you'd say no to most of the crazy situations he seemed persistent on putting you in.

"Don't hate me," Seokjin eyes you carefully. You narrow your eyes, with a nod that says go on. "Hyejin wants us to go dress shopping."

"You bought me this new dress this morning?" You smooth down the front of the floaty summer dress that hugs your figure.

He coughs, eyes averting yours. "Wedding dress shopping."

That's when you come to a stop on the sidewalk outside of an elegant white-brick bazaar, eyes widening at the glaringly white dresses styled on mannequins that stare at you from behind the floor to ceiling windows.

Seoul Bridal - For All Your Wedding Dress Needs.

Your blood runs cold. Oh no.

You grip his hand tighter. "I'm going to kill you."

Seokjin is already pushing open the door with a chuckle that mingles with the tiny tinkling bell that rings out and announces your arrival. Too late to kick off your stiletto's and run.

"After you, sweetheart."

"Welcome to Seoul Bridal," A pretty lady with curly hair in a striped pant suit welcomes you inside with a hand shake. Her name tag says Wheein, and you can't take your eyes off the red lipstick on her teeth. "It's nice to finally meet you, Seokjin."

"The pleasure is all mine," Seokjin responds, voice deep with a suave charm that makes the girls behind the reception desk giggle unashamedly. For some reason you have to resist sending a glare their way, not missing the way your chest burns when Seokjin flashes them a dazzling smile. "Hyejin said you had some ideas for Y/N's wedding dress?"

"Of course. We have everything ready. We just need to get some measurements first." She smiles at him courteously, then whips a tape measure out of her trouser pocket which she wastes no time in wrapping around your waist. "Arms up, please." She murmurs as she slides the glasses balanced on top of her head behind her ears so she can get a better measurement of your shoulder width. You send an eyeroll Seokjin's way when you hear him snort bemusedly at the sudden man handling.

While Wheein bites the cap off a pen with her teeth and scribbles down the size ratio of your waist to your hips for future reference, you finally get the chance to take in the boutique properly. The sweet scent from the bouquets of white roses all over the room fills the air and the walls are painted a blush pink to match the faux fur rugs. Streams of sunlight pour through the chiffon curtains making the racks of blindingly white wedding dresses of all sizes and designs glow invitingly.

"Which one am I trying on?" You ask absentmindedly, nodding towards the sea of satin and lace hanging delicately from pink hangers.

Wheein looks up confused, then her nose wrinkles with distaste."Oh, none of these darling. You deserve the very best." She starts walking quickly towards a back room, heels click clacking as she beckons you to follow her with a crook of her finger. "We received some luxury designs from two of our best designers in London and Milan just this morning -- oh! And it looks like the dress from Paris just arrived!"

She shuffles you and Seokjin into a private dressing room, seating you on an elegant couch upholstered with grey velvet. Seokjin picks up one of the gossip magazines on the coffee table and helps himself to the complimentary cupcakes, all while you wring your hands together nervously, Wheein emerging from the large closet with three white garment bags.

"Here they are! Oh, how exciting." She claps her hands together with a beaming grin in your direction. With a flick of her wrist she removes all three bags, revealing three of the most beautiful dresses you've ever seen. You must look dazzled, because Wheein crosses her arms triumphantly. "Hyejin knew you'd like them. Just wait until you see the veils..."

She disappears into another room, and you're left gawking at the garments set in front of you like a goldfish. Fingers trembling, you reach out and touch the first one. It has a giant poofy skirt, like something you imagine a princess would wear, and you imagine how it would float down the aisle like a real life cloud. The second is more slinky, with shiny beads littering the bodice that glint silver beneath the glow of the chandelier and the third is made from gorgeous lace that shows skin in all the right places.

"How much did these cost?" You hiss to Seokjin, ripping your hand away like your touch alone might burn a hole in the fabric.

"Hm?" He says through a mouthful of cake, eyes widening when he takes in the dresses for himself." Too much, probably. Hyejin went a little over board but honestly, these aren't as bad as I was expecting." Seokjin runs his hand over the lace one, and nods approvingly. "You should've seen the rejects. One had a trail longer than my monster coc-"

"I can't try on any of these!" You splutter, arms hugging your torso. They're too beautiful for someone like me, is what you want to say, but you don't. "I'll look dumb."

"Just do it." He leans back against the wall with a roll of his eyes. Like this is all nothing to him. "It's not like you actually have to get married in one of them."

Ouch. His words sting, even though you know they're true, and you're reminded of the real reason you came here in the first place. It makes your stomach turn, how he can go from the sort of sweet Seokjin you know when you're alone to the cold, arrogant rich guy in the drop of a hat.

You turn away so he doesn't see your frown, when you catch a glimpse of something white in the corner, poking out from beneath a dust sheet. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and before you can help it you're crossing the room and ripping the sheet away to reveal another dress; except this one makes something in your chest flutter.

It's simpler than the others. Tiny white roses are stitched into the sleeves, the neckline dipping into a V shape where the bouncy chiffon skirt meets the satin waistband. It's straight forward, uncomplicated. Just how you like it.

"Have you decided which one you want to try on first?" Wheein's shrill voice calls, but it's drowned out by the blood pumping through your ears.

"That one." You breathe, pointing at the dress that you can't help but reaching out to touch.

"That one? Are you sure, darling, I'm sure we can find something more fancy--"

"No!" It comes out too loud, and you cover it with a cough, turning to send her a pleading smile. "I mean, no, no thank you. This one, please. I want to try it on."

"You know, when Hyejin told me Seokjin was finally getting married I just knew you would have to be something special." Wheein says once you're safely alone in the dressing room, away from prying eyes and mischievous ears. "Suck in."

"Hm?" It's all you manage to get out as you're strapped into a boned under-corset that feels like its trying to squeeze every last breath out of you. You're so close you can smell her floral perfume.

"It's just that I've had so many wedding dresses made that never made it to the aisle. Honestly I was starting to think Seokjin would never settle down..." She trails off, lip tugged between her teeth as she helps you step into the floaty white dress, tying the belt into a bow at your waist before stepping back to admire her handy work. "But now I see what made him change his mind. You make a beautiful couple."

"Oh." You realise she's looking at you, a blush creeping up your neck. "Right."

If only she knew the truth.

You start to turn towards the mirror, but she plants a hand on your shoulder hurriedly. "Nuh uh. No peeking yet." You feel your face drop. "Don't look so worried. It looks perfect. He's going love it."

"I...I have to show him? Now?" You shift uncomfortably. The shoes are rubbing your soles and the sleeves sort of itch. "Isn't it bad luck for the groom to see the wedding dress before the big day?" You ask sheepishly.

"This is just the rought blueprint," Wheein reassures. "It doesn't count."

"I..." Your voice breaks. The thought of Seokjin sat out there with his roaming eyes seeing you in this dress makes your stomach churn. "I'm nervous."

"Don't be. Save that for the big day." She bites her lip, stepping back to look you up and down like there's something missing. Her eyes light up, and she digs around in a leather trunk in the corner to retrieve a sparkly tiara which she tucks neatly into your hair. "There. Perfect. Now lets not keep him waiting, hm?"

"Holy shit."

The words leave your mouth before you can think better of it.

Your reflection stares back at you, wide eyed and awe stricken, except it doesn't look like you at all.

The dress is beautiful. There's no denying it. It hugs your waist perfectly and the skirt waterfalls down to your ankles in just the right way. Wheein tugged your hair over your shoulders so the sweetheart neckline shows off just the right amount of collar bone, tiara sparkling beneath the soft light. A matching veil partially covers your face, and you've never felt more beautiful than you do now.

It's almost enough to make you want to believe that this is all real. That you're marrying Seokjin. That you get to walk down the aisle looking like...this.

"I don't see why I have to get all dressed up, Wheein, it's no big deal -- woah."

The door flies open, and your eyes snap up to meet Seokjin's in the mirror.

He has half of his seventh cupcake hanging out of his slackened mouth, his hair gelled back and tousled to reveal his forehead, and his piercing brown eyes that can't seem to decide where to look, glancing up over your exposed shoulders and down to your ass and back again, like he can't get enough.

He's lost his casual slacks from earlier, seemingly under Wheein's instruction, now clad in a black suit and matching shiny-toe'd shoes. His tie hangs slack around his neck, like he tugged it loose, and he fiddles awkwardly with his cuff links as he tries to get a grip over his roaming eyes.

"Y-Y/N you look--"

"Beautiful, right?" Wheein straightens his shirt, fastens his cuff links and knocks him beneath the chin to remind him to close his gawking mouth with a tut. He nods, speechless. "I'll leave you two to talk."

The door shuts behind her, and the room suddenly feels quieter than now you and Seokjin are alone, him on one side of the room, you on the other. You dare to meet his eyes and you find them staring straight at you, the glint that's usually there replaced with a wonder that's soft and gentle around the edges. You melt beneath his gaze.

He clears his throat, scratching a phantom itch at the back of his neck. It's the first time you've seen Seokjin seem sort of...awkward?

"C'mere." His voice is low, filled with something you can't quite put your finger on. "I want to see you."

You have to remember how to get your feet to work, hesitantly putting one in front of the other to cross the room. Seokjin stands with his palms clasped, a small smile playing on his lips as you close the space between you, and you swear you can hear the wedding bells already.

After what feels like ages, you stop a few paces away from him. He steps towards you carefully, flipping the veil out of your eyes like he's done it a million times before.

"Hey." You whisper. You don't know what else to say, but it makes Seokjin laugh and the sound makes your chest squeeze.

He looks dapper in his suit, like a real groom, and as he leans in closer, closer, until there's barely any distance between you, you can smell his cologne.

Your eyes fall shut instinctively. You almost swear when you open them there'll be a pastor and a pair of rings and Seokjin will be saying I do--

"You scrub up pretty well, huh?" His breath tickles your ear, and your eyes snap open to punch him in the chest playfully.

"I could say the same for you, mister."

A thumb grazes your jaw, tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. "Whoever gets to marry you is one lucky bastard."

The pounding in your chest is so loud you're sure the whole store can hear it. His lips are inches from yours, parted and plush. You've kissed them plenty of times before but only in the height of passion. Never like this. Not when his touch feels like a jolt of electricity running straight from his body and right into yours.

Just when you think he's going to give in and close the distance, he turns your face in his palm and plants a peck on your cheek. It's soft, careful. Like he's not really sure of it himself, his hand running through your hair before he takes a couple steps back with a shake of his head. Like he almost did something he shouldn't have.

"What time do you have to be at work?"

The question breaks you out of your trance. You realize he's staring at you expectantly, waiting for an answer. "Oh--not until this evening." You manage to choke out.

"Good. Then you're all mine for the afternoon." He grabs another cupcake from the stand and disappears behind one of the fitting room curtains. "Hurry and give the dress back to Wheein and I'll call Pierre to come pick us up."

"Where are we going?"

You hear him snort. "You'll see."

"This is where you wanted to take me?"

The late afternoon sun sparkles on the surface of the Paradise lake like diamonds. It's peaceful here at this time of day, the gardeners already disappearing into the lounge for a late lunch, rows of pastel canoes tied up to the dock bobbing in time with the chirping birds.

"Well?" Seokjin huffs impatiently. He's stood in the hull of a dark blue canoe that he stole from the boat shed — or borrowed, as he put it, since everything here belongs to him anyway — hand extended towards you. "Aren't you getting in?"

You narrow your eyes and nod towards the sign that says NO BOATS ON THE LAKE AFTER 4PM in curly gold letters. "Isn't that breaking the rules?"

Seokjin raises a brow, jangling a set of keys. "I own this place remember? Besides, I stole the boat worker's keys so we can stay for as long as we want."

The breeze ruffles your skirt, a shiver running down your spine when you peer over the edge of the dock and see your sheepish reflection staring up at you from the water, rippling and watery around the edges. You never did like deep water, and the thought of getting in that rocking capsule of death makes your stomach churn.

"It looks cold," You point out, grimacing at the clear blue water. "What if we fall in? Do you even know how to steer this thing?"

Seokjin shoots you a look, like you just said the dumbest thing he's ever heard. "Pfft. Of course. I've been taking rowing lessons since I could toddle."

Of course he has. You roll your eyes. Rich kids, huh?

"Oh come on, it's fine!" He jumps up and down as if to demonstrate just how safe, but the boat just rocks manically side to side and he has to grab the dock to steady himself before he plunges straight into the lake. He flashes you a sheepish smile. "See?"

You cross your arms, unconvinced. "Yeah, I think I'll pass."

Seokjin slumps into the canoe with an exaggerated sigh. "Well goddamn, I'm sorry for wanting to do something nice. We don't get much alone time so I thought—" He waves his hand at you in frustration, starting to unravel the rope keeping the boat secured to the dock. "You know what, fuck it, I'll just go by myself—"

"Wait!" Something about the disappointed frown on his face makes you change your mind. Fuck it. "I'm getting in."

He pauses, and then his lips curve up into a small smile. Not his usual too-big-too-polite smile; the kind of smile you reserve for special moments. The glint in his eye is back, and if your legs weren't already jelly, they are now.

"I knew you couldn't resist me." He stands up and puffs out his chest, offering you his hand again, which you take this time.

"Don't be an idiot." You flush. "The lake just looks inviting today."

"Whatever you say, sweetheart." He chuckles, before his arm wraps around your waist so he can throw you over his shoulder and tip you into the canoe.

"Seokjin!" Your knuckles whiten with how hard you grip the edge of the boat that tilts left to right sickeningly with the impact of your limp body being man handled into the hull. "Be careful!"

"Okay, okay. Just sit back. Relax. Enjoy the view..." You wobble over to the wooden seat opposite him, grateful for the way the boat balances out on the surface of the water. "Let me take care of everything."

You have to admit the view is beautiful. Dangling your hand over the edge of the boat, you let your fingers swirl through the cool water, and listen to the hum of a speedboat nearby. The sun has turned the water a yellowish hue, like liquid gold.

When you look back up at Seokjin, the sight of his lightly perspiring skin glowing beneath the stream of light as he unties the left oar practically takes your breath away. You almost want to reach out and see what it would feel like to touch his cheek, run your hand down his chest where his flesh peeks out from the top of his dress shirt...

"Ah, shit!"

There's a light splash and you're snapped out of your trance, a pair of sheepish eyes staring back at you.

Yeah. Never mind.

Seokjin peers over the edge of the boat, watching as one of the oars floats into the middle of the lake. The canoe has already floated just out of reach of the dock, so without it you are stranded.

You let out a panicked groan. "I thought you knew how to steer this thing?"

"I do!" He grunts, a flush creeping up his neck. "Besides, I said I knew how, not that I was good at it."

He fumbles with the latch beneath his seat which opens to reveal a secret compartment, inside of which are a pair of life jackets, and, much to your relief, a spare oar.

"Aha! We're saved." Seokjin pulls it out and waves it at you with a look of satisfaction.

You roll your eyes and settle back into your seat as Seokjin grasps both oars and starts to row. "Wow, my hero."

"Don't thank me too hard." He snorts.

You shoot him a look, and he breaks into laughter, the sound melodic enough to have you joining in and before you know it you're both chortling uncontrollably. It feels easy, nice.

Your laughter dies out into a hazy giggle, and you shut your eyes, letting the sun caress your face.

"You're nothing like how I expected you to be, y'know."

Seokjin splashes you gently with the oar. "What did you expect?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Stuck up, selfish rich dude with an ego complex?" You snort, but Seokjin's chuckles have disappeared now. His brows are furrowed when you open your eyes, and you feel sort of bad for ruining the ease that had settled between you. You shift awkwardly. "Can you blame me?"

"Huh," The boat floats beneath the shade of a weeping willow, the scent of white blossoms and freshly cut grass filling your senses, and Seokjin hauls the oars into the boat so he can rest for a while. "You know, it pisses me off that everyone sees me that way. I don't want to be that guy."

"Why?" You're surprised by his honesty. There's a sincerity in his voice that you've never heard before.

"I just...I just try and fit in. To make everyone happy, I guess."

He avoids your gaze, looking out over the lake with his chin in his palm and his shoulders slumped. Your heart twists.

"If it helps, I don't see you as that guy anymore." You shrug. "When we first met I thought you were just like everyone else at Paradise. But you're...different from everyone around here. Nice. Underneath all the designer of course." That earns a snort from him. "Why do you hide that side of yourself?"

"You're hardly one to talk about hiding, kitchen girl." He crosses his legs and points a finger at you. "One minute you're calling me a douche and shooting arrows like an Olympian and the next you're getting all insecure when I call you pretty or something."

You feel a blush rise in your cheeks. Insecure? Is that how he sees you?

"Do not." You mumble.

"You act like you're so much better than me for being good, and then have a fit when I say something nice."

"Well, I never asked you to call me pretty. That wasn't part of the deal." You pick at an invisible piece of lint on your skirt. "I figured you were humouring me."

Seokjin's eyes turn serious. He leans forward, like he's about to take your hand or something but changes his mind.

"I know...that what we have is weird. I know I ask you for a lot, and we're supposed to be strictly friends with benefits but—" He sighs, trying to find the right words."I like spending time with you. Like this. Just us."

You feel giddy, suddenly shy beneath his gaze. "I do too."

"And I always mean what I say, Y/N." A breeze ruffles his hair, and he shoots you a grin. "Like I said earlier, whoever gets to call you theirs is one lucky bastard."

I'll be yours, you want to say, but you know it would be futile; someone like Seokjin could never belong to you, and that's exactly why you don't belong here.

"Oh shit."

Before you can respond, Seokjin's expression is turning grave as you both watch with matching horror as the spare oar splashes into the lake.

"Please tell me there's another one underneath there." You nod towards the storage compartment with wide eyes.

"Nope." He scratches his neck awkwardly and shrugs."That was our only one."

"Then shouldn't we call for help or something?!"

"No, I have an idea. You lean over the edge and I'll hold your legs."

"Me?! Why can't you do it."

"Because I'm heavier, duh? I'll tip the boat." He links his fingers together pleadingly. "At least try, or else we'll be stuck out here all night!"

You cup your hand around your watch face to block the glaring sun. Your kitchen shift starts in forty five minutes and you can't afford to be late. Namjoon will certainly fire you on the spot.

"Fine!" You wobble to your feet and slide over to his side of the boat. "But you better not let go, or I'll kill you."

Seokjin salutes. "Scouts honour."

Before you can change your mind, Seokjin has both hands wrapped around your thighs and you're sent hurtling head first over the edge of the boat, face inches from the water's surface.

With a grunt you extend your arm, and your fingertips barely brush the oar, sending it further away.

"Fuck!" You call over your shoulder. Seokjin is red in the face with extortion, and you feel the boat rock as you lean further out. "I can't go any more or we'll tip!"

"Just a little more!" Seokjin yells back. "You've almost got it."

"Okay...almost..." You shift a little more and aha! The oar is just within your grasp! Until you hear a low buzzing coming from behind you, and you hear Seokjin yelp, his grip on your legs starting to slacken... "Jin? what are you doing?"

"Get off me!" He yells, letting go of you in favour of slapping something on his shoulder wildly, and before you can give him a piece of your mind the canoe loses its balance and tips upside down, sending the pair of you hurtling into the lake.

You manage to hold your breath before you go under. The water is an icy shock on such a warm summers day, your limbs flying into action and scrambling wildly until you break the surface and take a heaving breath.

Wiping the tendrils of dripping hair from your eyes, you glance around for Seokjin, but he's no where to be seen.

"Seokjin?" You call, panic evident in your voice. "Where are you?"

Bubbles appear on the surface of the water, and before you can let out a sigh of relief, a hand grabs your ankle and yanks you back under the water.

When you surface, choking and spluttering, you're beneath the cover of the upturned canoe. Seokjin grins at you, whole and in one piece and perfectly alive, and you can't help but feel pranked.

"Hey, sweetheart." He drawls, running his fingers through his soaking hair. The shadow of the rippling water reflects on the underside of the canoe, turning his skin a pale blue. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Seokjin!" You yell and he jumps when you start splashing him wildly. "What the fuck was that?"

He shields his face with his hands."It was a bee! I'm allergic."

"So? I was hanging out of a fucking canoe!"

"Oops." He's chortling now, and it echoes beneath the canoe. "Did I let go?"

You splash him again, and he grabs your hands with his to stop you from sending another tsunami his way. His palms are warm compared to your clammy ones and his eyes are watching you fondly, but that just pisses you off even more. "Okay! Okay! I get it, I'm sorry okay?"

"You idiot! Now I'm all wet and I'm totally going to smell like trout at work and—"

"Just shut up for a second would you?" A hand brushes the tangles of wet hair from your cheek, and before you know it a pair of plump lips are crashing against your own.

"Mmf!"

You're surprised at first, but there's something so tender in the way his hand cups your chin to pull you closer, how his arm curls around your waist, and before you know it you're grabbing him by the collar and kissing him back wildly like the world is ending and you're the last two people on earth.

"You're kinda cute when you're mad." Is what Seokjin whispers against your lips when he pulls back, out of breath.

"Oh." You breathe, a smile beginning to play on your lips. "Okay."

It's like you're in your own little bubble. Just Seokjin and you. You and Seokjin.

Until it bursts.

"Holy shit! Are you guys okay?" The sun is glaringly bright when the canoe is ripped away from your heads, and you have to squint through your fingers to see the figure swimming towards you.

"M-mr Kim?"

Seokjin jumps back from your body at the sound of his title, his hand letting go of your wrist. It falls into the water limply.

"That's me." He coughs, straightening his tie, like he isn't soaking wet and it's somehow going to make him look more professional.

"I didn't know you were rowing today..." Your eyes focus, and you instantly recognise Taehyung, the Paradise lifeguard. You have met a couple times at staff meetings.

Shit. You turn your face to the side, and hope he won't look to closely.

"I wasn't." Seokjin deadpans, gesturing to his soaking appearance. "Y/N and I thought we would go for a swim."

"I— oh." You muffle a chuckle at Seokjin's sarcasm and the wide eyes of the life guard who seems utterly stunned.

It doesn't seem so funny when he turns to you suddenly, eyes scrutinising, and offers you his elbow.

"Here take my arm, we have to get you two dry."

You glance at Seokjin carefully, but he just nods for you to go ahead, so you take Taehyung's arm and let him pull you back to the dock, Seokjin leisurely kicking on his back behind you like he doesn't have a care in the world.

Once you're safely on dry land, Taehyung disappears into the boat shed before returning with a pair of towels which he drapes around your shoulders with a concerned look.

"Take these. You aren't hurt, miss?"

"No." Seokjin answers for you with a roll of his eyes. There's a bite in his tone. Is he...jealous?

"Good, this is why we say no boats after 4..." Taehyung sends Seokjin a stern look, and you feel the tension rise when he just clicks his tongue in response. "I should really report this to my supervisor."

"We won't do it again," Seokjin's eyes bulge when you grab Taehyung's forearm. The lifeguard seems surprised himself, looking you in the eyes for the first time. You turn on a sickly sweet tone and bat your lashes. "We can keep this between us, hm?"

"I...I suppose so." Taehyung coughs, but then his eyes narrow. "Hold on a second. Do I know you from somewhere?"

Your mouth turns dry. "I..."

"No!" Seokjin jumps in between you, wrapping a protective arm around your shoulder. "She's not from around here."

His face has turned a deep shade of red, and you can feel his heart beating rapidly against your back. Anyone would think he was embarrassed. Then again, what did you expect? You are just a kitchen girl after all.

You nod slowly. He sighs with relief. "No. We've never met."

Taehyung scratches his chin, stepping back to get a better look at you. "It's just you look super familiar..."

"We have to be going now!" Seokjin stands up suddenly and grabs you by the hand. He squeezes extra tight, swinging your interlocked fingers where Taehyung can clearly see them. "Thanks, uh...Taehyung?"

"My pleasure, Mr. Kim." The lifeguard looks startled by Seokjin's sudden departure, but steps back to let you pass. "Be careful next time okay?"

"Yup, we will kid."

"Thanks!" You call over your shoulder, as Seokjin is already dragging you away from the lake and up the steps to the grand veranda that lines the resort.

"Thanks?" He rolls his eyes. "Y/N, the lake is like a foot deep, it's not like we were gonna drown."

"He was nice..." You bump his shoulder playfully. "Why? You jealous?"

His cheeks flush pink. "No! Of course not, I just...didn't like the way he looked at you."

You reach the top of the steps, and Seokjin slows down to a leisurely walk once he's in the clear. From here you can see the whole of the resort, sprawling greenery and luxury living in all its glory.

"Speaking of, that was a close one." You laugh. "He totally almost recognised me."

"Yeah." Seokjin laughs too, but then his face drops. "You're right. That was close."

"Seokjin?"

He stops, and turns towards you. His hand drops to your waist, lifting you up so you're sat on the balcony's edge, and then his mouth is capturing yours once again.

This time something feels different. It's desperate, but timid. Passionate but broken. It leaves you breathless.

He pulls away first.

"Jin, what just happened—"

"I..." He swallows thickly and looks away. "I shouldn't have done that. I've gotta go. I'm sorry."

It's then, as he turns and hurries down the back staircase towards the plaza and leaves you all alone on the veranda, that you realise you had never let go of his hand, not even for a second.

"I had fun tonight." Seokjin says as he drops you off at the Paradise gates after an evening spent perusing high fashion wedding venue magazines with Hyejin over tea and finger sandwiches. "Hyejin looked like she was on the verge of a stroke when I suggested walking down the aisle to The Thong Song."

Seokjin boasts a simple T-shirt and tailored pants tonight, the turtle neck draped over his shoulder unnecessary on such a warm and sticky summer night blessed by the lingering caress of the day's blazing sun. The drive slopes downwards, Seokjin's angular shadow a contrast against the twinkling lights that blur Paradise into a picturesque backdrop of pristine white brick, and a warmth spreads through your chest as he beams at you.

"I thought it was a fine choice," You muse, suppressing a giggle when you think back to the way Hyejin dropped her teacup at Seokjin's suggestion, eye twitching in disgust. "We're not even engaged yet and she already has our entire wedding planned out."

Oops. Seokjin stiffens. Your laughter comes to an abrupt stop, face reddening with embarrassment at your slip up. Of course you aren't engaged. You never will be. At least not to each other.

He's been weird like that, lately. Ever since that day at the lake when he left abruptly, seemingly shaken up, you've been walking on egg shells around him. One wrong word could send him flying away with that same scared look in his eye. And honestly, you still don't understand why.

All you know is that things have been different since you almost got caught at the lake. Sure, you've continued to hook up like normal, but Seokjin seems to be making a conscious effort to be more distant around you. You haven't talked about what happened that afternoon on the veranda, but it's clear something did; Seokjin hasn't kissed you since.

If Seokjin notices your poor word choice, he doesn't mention it. "Pretty sure she has my entire life planned out too." He murmurs almost bitterly, despite his face boasting a smile that doesn't quite meet his eyes. You figure it's better not to press him further.

He walks beside you to the end of the drive in a relative silence that feels all too loud — not awkward per se but filled with a definite unspoken tension that has you hiding behind your hair, eyes trained to the ground because you don't know how you are supposed to look at Seokjin when it was just you and him.

Moments like this, not heightened by passion or under the watchful eyes of his family are rarities. You take a deep breath and try to savour the taste of geraniums which lingers in the air from the gardens and the closest thing to normal you have ever experienced around Seokjin.

Despite the the emotional distance Seokjin seems intent on keeping in place, every physical step seems to edge you closer to him, eyes trained to the way his shoes sidestep until you are practically shoulder to shoulder. Seokjin doesn't so much as look at you as he does so and you are content to think he is too deep in his own thoughts to notice the way your bodies cling to each other like magnets, until the tips of his fingers brush against your palm in a delicate touch that may have been perceived as intimate had he not ripped it away with a pained expression, like he touched an electric fence or something.

You have admit that you felt it too. The spark as they describe it in romance movies. It was more of a tingle really, warm and fuzzy as it fizzed all the way from your hand to a spot in your chest suspiciously close to your heart that was beating a little faster now as you imagine how it would feel if he took your hand in his.

Except he doesn't. And when you glance up at him he is no longer engaged with his own thoughts but rather staring at you with a questioning look, brows slightly furrowed, and embarrassment replaces the fuzz in your veins when you consider for a moment that perhaps he was reading your mind and the completely inappropriate thoughts for a fake bride to have for her fake husband along with it.

The flush that caresses your cheeks is nearly as vibrant as the rose bushes which line the drive, perfectly pruned and as beautiful beneath lantern light as they are in the day and a perfect reminder of your embarrassment as you create a relative distance between your body and his. That way you were sure you could keep your hands - and your thoughts - strictly to yourself.

Far too quickly you find yourself turning the corner onto the street where you always part ways, the stoney gravel evening out into the same boring old scuffed concrete that winds through the entire city, a clear indication that you were leaving behind the Paradise grounds and entering the not so pristine visual of reality.

Usually you were glad to be on your way, sick of talking about neck lines and lace types and the way your shoulders ached from nodding politely at people who got wine drunk on weekdays but tonight you feel like you could keep walking with Seokjin forever in this strange bubble of unspoken words.

But you know as soon as he stops dead beside you that the bubble has already burst, floating away just out of your grasp like the false reality you live at Paradise.

"I'll be going then." It's quiet out here, not a trace of the music from Jazz night at the bar or the laughter of couples crossing the plaza to their suites after a few too many Chardonnays. Seokjin opens his mouth and then closes it again while you fidget awkwardly. "Thanks for a good night."

The way you say it sounds like he took you on a real date, one that you were supposed to thank him for. It's too late by the time you realize that a boundary has been overstepped when Seokjin doesn't return the genuine smile you shoot him as you turn to leave.

"Wait!" The click of your shoes against the sidewalk halts at the serious husk in his tone, jarringly loud against the silence. "I need to ask you something."

His face is partially lit by the street lamp you find yourself beneath, casting half of his face in a golden glow that emphasizes the shadow of his lashes against his cheeks when he closes his eyes, as if to briefly collect his words.

Despite your better judgement, probably blinded by the normality you had fallen into, you press him further. "What is it?"

"Listen Y/N..." Seokjin scratches the back of his neck and you shift awkwardly in front of him, chest suddenly tightening with a niggling dread. "You haven't told anyone about us have you?"

"Us?" Your eyes widen. Since when did Seokjin start referring to you as a pair? You tilt your head quizzically. "I mean, your sister and your parents know —

"No, I mean the things that we...do in private." The summer evening suddenly turns chilly. Seokjin must notice when your face drops, the way you hug your arms to try and keep hold of the warmth that had practically singed each of your nerve endings just a moment ago.

"Things?" You splutter. "Is that all they are to you?"

You can't help it. The way Seokjin talks when you are intimate, the way he kissed you so desperately that day on the veranda -- it made it feel like those moments meant more to him. He was damn convincing - when he told you that he wanted you, you believed him - and you can't help but feel cheated.

Seokjin's brow simply furrows, flummoxed by your sudden outburst. "Yeah, I mean we had an agreement — isn't that all they are to you?"

An agreement.

The way he says it sounds like your relationship is strictly business. As if he's paying you for a service - which, in his own way, you suppose he is. Sure, you knew he wasn't really going to fall in love with you in the way he told his family he loved you but you thought he at least felt something — no, you were sure he had at the lake. Maybe you were just confusing pleasure with intimacy.

Still, the way his finger points at you accusingly makes a hot rage rise in your chest but you simply take a shaky breath and plaster the closest thing to a grin on your features as you can muster.

"Of course they are." The sweetness in your voice is a little too forced, but it goes unnoticed on Seokjin who lets out a sigh of relief. "None of this means anything. I know that."

"Good. Then we're on the same page..." He still looks slightly unconvinced - you can just make out the way he narrows his eyes doubtfully in the dim light - but he doesn't have time to press further before a black car rolls into the drive and he clasps your wrist to pull you across the paving and into the shadows. "Watch out!"

Seokjin suddenly yanks you closer to him, your chest nearly pressed up to his. You almost mumble a thanks, idiotic enough to think that his only motive is to prevent you getting flattened by a Mercedes Benz nearly invisible in the night if not for the crunch of tyres against gravel.

But then you feel his breath hitch when he catches a glimpse of your white kitchen uniform reflected in one of the tinted car windows, sending a salute towards the security guard in the drivers seat with fingers crossed behind his back, and you silently condemn yourself for thinking he cared about anything other than his reputation even for a second. You go numb.

You look between your bodies where your hand dangles limply in his grasp. Just a moment ago you were envisioning how it would feel for him to hold your hand in his, the way his skin brushed yours enough to give you shivers. Now it just made the hollow ache in your chest throb with a cold emptiness.

Seokjin strains his neck, only releasing you from his hold when the glow of headlights disappears around a corner and you are smothered by darkness again.

Seokjin's sigh of relief stings. The words never leave his lips but you can tell what he was thinking. Phew, now I don't have to explain why I, almighty Kim Seokjin, was conversing with a staff member after hours. Lucky escape!

A smile appears on his face, as if you were supposed to share his relief. "So, same time tomorrow?"

You feel yourself stagger away from him in shock. Seokjin is many things but you didn't think he was heartless. It's enough to send you over the edge.

"Clearly we are not on the same page." You spit. "Actually, you know what? No. I'm busy tomorrow."

Seokjin scoffs, running a hand through his hair. "Doing what?"

"I have things to do." Your emphasis on the word makes his eyes widen,

"Oh great!" He barely raised his voice before glances behind him warily, making sure there was no one around to see him getting heated. When he turns back his voice is nothing but a harsh whisper. "And what do you expect me to tell my family, huh?"

"Tell them that your fiancé to be had to go do the job they actually pay her to do." The way he laughs breathily makes your fists clench at your sides as you turn on your heels and stalk down the street before he can see the way your face reddens with a combination of hurt and anger, though not before you are calling over your shoulder despite knowing it would only fuel the fire. "Unless you're too embarrassed to tell them who I really am."

"You don't seem to mind when you're cashing in your favours." He calls after you, hands on hips with a bitterness lacing his voice that makes your heart twist painfully.

You hear the way your pulse quickens, the lump in your throat growing bigger and bigger as you stop dead. "What?"

"Y/N, I didn't mean that I —"

"So that's what this is? You are embarrassed of me?" Your voice raises incredulously. "Is that why you've been so weird with me since Taehyung almost recognised me at the lake? You're scared someone will snitch on you to your rich friends?"

"No, I--"

"No what, Jin?" You let out a hollow laugh. "I thought I meant more to you than that."

Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's just you and I...we could never be anything more, you know that right? I don't want you to get the wrong idea. We don't come from the same background and it would be..." He pauses. "Inappropriate."

"It's too late, anyway. Forget I said anything." Tears streak your cheeks hotly and you hide behind your hair, determined to hide your weakness from him. "This was a mistake."

You start to walk away, but then you're running, as fast as you can away from Paradise and all the hurt. The sound of Seokjin's tennis shoes hitting the concrete picks up as he follows you down the path, calling your name, and for a moment you think he's going to comfort you. Tell you that he was sorry and that none of this was meaningless to him after all.

But he doesn't.

"I'll text you!" Is the last thing he calls before you disappear around the corner out of sight. You want to sneak a look over your shoulder, see him standing there at the end of the street beneath the street light.

Instead you resist, letting the bitterness pooling in your stomach rise up and burn your throat like bile. "Don't bother!"

Either he listened or he didn't mean it when he said he would text you.

The anger that ran hot through your bloodstream after your fight with Seokjin has faded to nothing but an indescribable emptiness and regret.

You haven't heard from him in three days. That is a long time where Seokjin is concerned and completely out of character.

Even on normal days, when you had a day off from pretending to be his fiancé, Seokjin would find a way to make you laugh by sending you a low angle selfie from the dinner table at one of his father's business conferences or a cheeky message to let you know he'd just seen you walk past the golf court wearing the red sundress that he liked.

You couldn't remember when Seokjin became a normal part of your day. Just like brushing your teeth or washing your hair, you had become almost expectant of a vibration against your thigh at work or the ping! of your ringtone before you went to sleep or even a heated make out behind the restaurant when you just couldn't wait any longer.

So when it all suddenly came to a stop, you were sure you were going crazy. All you were left with was a feeling of emptiness, as if something vital was missing.

It wasn't even as if he owed you anything, not really - it was true that the romance wasn't real and even the sex was just sex to him; but at some point you had to admit you had crossed some kind of invisible barrier. In between lying to his family, public "dates" flavoured by champagne and hanging off his forearm at celebratory cocktail parties, you and Seokjin had become friends.

(Sort of. If you ignored the parts where his lips made you lose your breath or the night's that ended with his head between your legs.)

So god forbid you expected something from him after your fight the other night. A sign that he cared, if even a little bit. An apology for the way he'd deliberately tried to hurt you.

That's how you find yourself checking your phone anxiously on your kitchen shift breaks, refreshing your inbox obsessively and trying to ignore the heaviness weighing down your chest with each passing hour without even so much as one of the cheesy emojis he used way too frequently to be ironic lighting up your screen.

He even stopped dropping by the restaurant under the guise of a casual lunch like he usually did. You found yourself on edge, breath fogging up the glass of the window with your disappointment every time you heard the door zip open and you rushed to greet him, only to be met with someone utterly not Kim Seokjin.

You thought you saw his broad figure dipping into one of the other restaurants across the plaza instead one afternoon as you left work and you couldn't help but wonder if he shamelessly flirted with the kitchen staff there, too.

It hurts knowing that it was so easy for him to cut you out of his life completely when he had become such a constant part of yours. It hurts knowing that he probably wasn't even thinking of you when he was the only thing on your mind.

And to make matters worse, it seems that the tight smiles and vacant nods you shoot Jimin as he divulges the latest and greatest Paradise gossip he overheard while serving at some fancy dinner party last night didn't do a good job at hiding the melancholy gloom which hangs over your head.

He's still talking as you swipe your cards to check out of work, charmingly holding the door ajar for you to slip outside the restaurant where you told Jungkook you'd wait for him to join you.

The air is cooler than expected against your face, the first time that summer where the sky is covered by splotches of grey cloud that refuse to let any blue peek through like an ugly patchwork quilt that mirrors your ugly mood.

"Y/N, didn't your hear me? Mr Kim's wife literally grabbed him by the balls and threw him out of the building when she caught him cheating with the waitress — wait, are you okay?"

Jimin is already half way down the limestone stairs, too caught up in his own dramatic storytelling to notice the way you stand rigid at the top. The phone in your palm is lit up with the same three words that have haunted you all day — NO NEW MESSAGES — but Jimin's question breaks your trance for a moment.

"Huh? No, I'm fine." You assure, slipping the device into your back pocket, swallowing thickly and mustering up a watery smile you hope will appease him before he can ask any more questions.

It doesn't work.

"You've been acting weird all day." Your legs feel wobbly as you close the distance between you, like the very foundations of your body are beginning to give in to the weight that has set up camp in your chest no matter how hard you try to ignore it.

"I have?" Jimin is peering at you with narrowed eyes, not malicious necessarily but inquisitive. They narrow further when you sigh shakily, averting your gaze to the shirtless gardener who mows the green lawns that spread out as far as the eye can see into perfect lines, counting the distant rose bushes as a distraction from the impending tears that have begun to well. "I don't want to talk about it."

Jimin throws an arm around your shoulder a little too roughly to be comforting, following your stagnant gaze. "Damn he's kinda cute." The lack of witty remark from you when he lands a jokey punch to your shoulder seems to finally perk Jimin's attention. "Tell me, are you and Mr Kim Seokjin having trouble in Paradise?"

Jimin lets out a snort at his own pun before he spots the sullen look on your face, covering his impending chuckle with a cough and releasing you from his grasp to sling his hands in his pockets awkwardly. "Oh shit, really?"

You simply sniff in response, allowing that to be confirmation enough, slumping down onto the grand staircase and letting your face fall into your hands.

Jimin plonks down beside you, sidling up until your knees touch, the simple act of comfort making the tears that had been threatening to emerge all day prick hotly at the corners of your eyes.

"I messed up, Jimin." Your voice is muffled by your palms but that doesn't mask the way it wavers slightly, Jimin's hand immediately rubbing soothing circles into your back. "I think he's mad at me."

"Why?"

"Because I basically told him that I kind of have feelings for him—"

"You did what?" Jimin grabs you by the elbow, alerting the atention of a guy in a velour tuxedo leaving the restaurant who gives the hot tears staining your cheeks a funny look. "Hold up, go back. You have feelings for Seokjin?"

Even with vision blurred by tears you can see the wide eyed expression on Jimin's face. You cross your arms in a pout. "Well you don't need to say it like that."

"Like what?"

"Like the idea is completely crazy or something."

Jimin runs an exasperated hand through his hair. "So you mean the truth?"

It isn't the way he says it so much as the realisation that he is right that stings. You bow your head, a few silent tears rolling down your cheeks until you can taste their saltiness. "I know, I know. I'm not good enough for a person like him, I was stupid—"

Jimin shakes his head gently, placing his palms firmly on both of your shoulders and forcing you to face him head on. "Listen up because I'm about to serve you a cup of piping hot real shit, okay?"

You wipe your nose noisily on your sleeve, giving him a curt nod. "Okay."

"The reason you and Seokjin will never work out has nothing to do with you so I won't accept any of that mopey shit." Jimin shakes you vigorously as if he is knocking some sense into you, and you offer him a tearful giggle. "Truth is, Seokjin can't see a good thing when he has it because there is no room in his rich ass heart for anything other than money and his reputation."

"But—"

"No buts!" Jimin shucks up his sleeves until they cover his hands like paws, using the fabric to dab away your tears, unphased by the growing damp spots on both of his cuffs. "The sooner you realise that Seokjin's issues are not your issues the better."

Your tears are dry now. You're pretty sure Jimin's pep talk ended your momentary wobble but your voice still sounds slightly hoarse when you speak. "It just felt like more when we...you know..." You wave your hands around wildly hoping Jimin will fill in the blank, which he does with a click of his tongue.

"Then you need to stop sleeping with him immediately."

"What?"

"You know what I think?" Jimin links his arm with yours, pulling you alongside him. "I think that you're confusing intimacy with actual feelings."

Maybe he's right. It's natural for emotions to be heightened when Seokjin is making you literally fall apart beneath him, probably for him too which would explain the intimate things he had said. Perhaps all this time you were just confusing loving the way he made you feel for loving...him. After all, you had always thought the regular Seokjin was kind of an asshat at times. Of course you didn't have feelings for him!

"You know what? I think you're right." Jimin raises his eyebrows in surprise, as if he was expecting you to be harder to win around. You slap a palm to your forehead. "I can't believe I actually thought I caught feelings for him for a second."

"Happens to the best of us." Jimin grins. "If I was getting dicked down by that beautiful god of a man then I'd want to have his babies too. Imagine how cute they'd be..."

"Jimin!" You smack him playfully before leaning across to rest your head on his shoulder, his chuckles vibrating against your cheek. "You just basically told me he's an asshole."

"And I stand by that!" He defends, letting his own cheek rest against your hair. "But you can't deny that he is fucking inhumanely gorgeous..."

"Are we talking about Kim Seokjin again?" A dry voice appears somewhere behind, making you jump and pause your laughter. A glance over your shoulder reveals none other than Jungkook, arms crossed and a sullen vibe emanating from the way his thick brows furrow so deeply they almost connect. Come to think of it, he always seems to be moody where Seokjin is involved. Huh.

"Why? Are you gonna try and tell me that he's not that buff again?" Jimin scoffed, stiffening ever so slightly beside you and refusing to even glance in Jungkook's direction.

"No, I just don't see why we have to always talk about him." Jungkook puffs, blowing his bangs out of his eyes bitterly. "Besides, I just saw him outside the kitchen and his body isn't that good. I'd hardly say 'sculpted'."

Huh? Seokjin? Outside the kitchen...

Neither of the boys seem to share your bewilderment, launching into a spat heavy with a tension that had been building long before. "And what would you know, anyway?"

"I go to the gym!" Jungkook flexes his arm, earning a scoff from Jimin to which he frowns. "Look!"

"You saw Seokjin where?" You breathe, butting into the squabble and drawing two startled looks when you jolt to your feet, wiping off the back of your leggings.

"O-outside the kitchen...why? I assumed he was waiting for you..." Jungkook is wide eyed, blinking with a lack of understanding considering his previous absence. Jimin has already wrapped his hand around your wrist to pin you in place.

"He is?" You nibble your lip.

You imagine him leaning up against the wall outside the kitchen, probably looking at his watch impatiently as he waits for your shift to finish. He never could wait for long so perhaps he'd even already left, storming off to go let his anger out in a game of extremely competitive table tennis with a retired CEO in the lounge.

But there's a chance he is still there and that he was waiting for you and even though every fibre of your being screams that it is a bad idea, you just want to see if it was true. If he really was thinking about you. If you'd misjudged him after all and a part of him did care.

"Y/N this is a bad idea." You're already bounding down the steps when Jimin tugs you back to offer a slice of reality. "Remember what we just talked about? Not catching feelings." He draws the last word out and wiggles his eyebrows which only makes Jungkook even more confused.

"It'll be fine Jimin," You brush him off though it sounds a little like you are pleading with him. Carefully dislodging your wrist from his grip, you plaster a reassuring smile to you face that doesn't seem to appease his anxious foot tapping. "I won't let him get inside my head. I'm not confused anymore, see?"

"Fine. Knock yourself out." Jimin steps back, gesturing for you to go forth which you do far too quickly for his liking, flashing him a thumbs up before turning your back and disappearing down the steps before he can protest any further. "But promise to call me immediately if you get horny feelings again!"

The way your heart thumps in your chest as you speed walk around the building has to be unhealthy.

You slow down as you get closer to the corner that obscures the back of the restaurant from view, taking cover behind a bush pruned into a perfect ball.

There he is.

Your breath hitches. It's almost as if your brain tricked you into believing he was a figment of your imagination these past few days without him. Like you made the whole thing up. But no, here he is and he's breathing and he has blood pumping through him just like you and he's so real that it hits you like a freight train.

For the first time this evening, the sun pokes it's head out from behind the clouds, a small crack opening up in the sky that sends a stream of soft golden light cascading across him. And almost as if in unison, it feels like the light shines right through the Seokjin shaped cracks in your heart as you watch his eyes flutter shut at the kiss of warmth and his arms reach above his head to lean into the light in a leisurely stretch.

It almost feels like you are seeing him for the first time all over again.

If Seokjin didn't let out a sigh of impatience in exactly the way you imagined he would, shaking his head and throwing his hands into the pockets of his gym shorts in defeat, you would have been content to just watch from the sidelines like you promised Jimin you would.

Perhaps you wouldn't have rushed out from behind your camouflage of foliage, sending a garden gnome flying in a crash of broken china in your haste. And even more importantly, perhaps you wouldn't have found yourself calling out for him to stop.

"Seokjin!" Your voice sounds small but the word flies out before you can slap your hand over your mouth to keep it in. It's familiar on your tongue, like coming back home after a long trip, and you savour the taste.

"Y/N?"

Seokjin stills at the crunch of your shoes approaching him tentatively, shoulders squared as if weighing up his options - fight or flight? - and just as you think you are mistaken and he didn't want to see you after all, he's taking flight - straight towards you and drawing you into his arms in an uncomfortably tight bear hug.

His chest hits yours with a force that makes you literally lose your breath, hairs on your arms rising as you feel his warmth encapsulate you completely like a comforting blanket.

The sudden embrace stuns you to a shocked silence, arms pressed to your sides stiffly as he buries his nose in your hair and takes a deep inhale. Is Kim Seokjin smelling your hair?

You have to admit the scent of his cologne makes you giddy, a little woodier around the edges than you remember it to be which you put down to the still slightly sticky and sweaty gym clothes hugging his torso. Under normal circumstances you would've been grossed out but the heightened thump of your heart in your ears acts as an ample distraction.

For a moment you forget about Paradise and the argument and the door to the kitchen beside you that could open at any moment. It's just you and him again, and you're melting.

You could stay like this forever, if his grip didn't tighten considerably, as if he was trying to squeeze the breath straight out of you and hold that too, and you are pushing his chest away from your body with a cough. "Jin — can't breathe!"

Seokjin lets you go — reluctantly, settling for holding you at arms length instead — and you are sure you spot his neck flush at the nickname you used accidentally.

"Sorry." His gaze dips to your feet and then drags all the way back to your puzzled eyes as if he is taking all of you in, like you had changed since he last saw you or something as if that wasn't just three days before. A lazy smile appears on his face. "Missed you, that's all."

His words are slightly breathless and punctuated by a shake of his head as if he can't quite believe he's saying them either and the honesty is so unlike him it makes your chest ache.

"Then why didn't you call?" There's a snipe in your words that seems to jolt him out of his sunny disposition, mouth downturning into a frown, arms dropping from your shoulders and going limp at his sides instead as if he is coming to his senses. "You're the one that's been avoiding me."

His shoulders droop awkwardly. "I'm sorry."

"It just didn't make sense why you would stop talking to me—."

"No, not for avoiding you — well I am sorry for that," He explains. "I mean for the things I said. The other night."

You furrow your brows, stunned. "Why?"

"It was mean and...truthfully I couldn't face you because of it." He drags a hand down his face and presses his back to the wall in defeat, giving you a perfect view of the regret that makes his jaw tighten.

With a sigh you sidle up next to him, careful to leave enough space between you so that your arms don't touch. Deja vu masks the ordeal and you realise it's all too similar to the first time you met in this very spot, watching the very same plaza except today it's still bustling with life beneath the orange glow of the setting sun and you have to squint to see it clearly.

You clear your throat. "I thought it was because of the things I said. About us."

"No!" His exclamation is a little too quick, too loud, and he looks embarrassed, following it up with a gruff "Don't be stupid."

"Well don't worry. While you've been avoiding me I've had plenty of time to think it over and you were right after all."

His nose scrunches, a habit of his you've noticed before that gives him an air of innocence. "I was?"

"Yeah, I think I must have had a few too many glasses of champagne at dinner that night." Your laugh is hoarse with the effort it takes to force it past your lips. "I'm happy with our agreement how it is. You don't need to worry about me going all crazy on you again."

"That's...good." His adam's apple bobs. He seems unconvinced by his own words. "Good. I'm glad."

Then he smiles and your heart throbs so hard it could explode so you just smile back and join in with his nervous laughter.

"So we're okay?"

"We're okay."

There's nothing left to say; now it's clear where you both stand. So why is Seokjin opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish?

"Is that all you came here to talk about?"

His laughter stops, and then he coughs and puffs out his chest, returning somewhat to the cocky Seokjin you are used to.

"Actually I was thinking...it's getting kind of late. It would be bad mannered of me to let you walk home alone."

"Why? I always walk home alone?" Seokjin never seemed to possess the worry you can see in eyes before when he dropped you off outside the club and watched you disappear into the night multiple times a week.

"For protection. Just in case." He rolls his eyes, as if it should have been obvious.

"It's okay, I've got pepper spray in my bag plus it's like 5 PM—"

"No. Protection for me." He suddenly pleads. "My mind will start to wander if I go back to my apartment alone again."

Seokjin seems so serious you know you can't reject him now without your conscience taking a beating, so you choose to say nothing at all. You want to be there for him, but at the same time you know you're only going to get hurt. The toe of your shoe draws circles in the dirt. "I don't know what to say."

"How about you don't say anything and just come to my place instead?" Your neck snaps up. He's never invited you to his place before. It always seemed like an inappropriate boundary to cross considering you are hardly even friends let alone lovers. "That way we both win."

You smile and he seems relieved. "I guess, just for a little bit."

"Great! Think of this as you doing a favour for me."

"Again?" You roll your eyes teasingly.

"I repay you don't I?" He sees your face fall. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that—"

"I know." You butt in. "It's fine. Really."

A silence falls in the same way it did the night you fought and it seems neither of you know what to say next. Truthfully you're just glad he doesn't seem mad at you, his quiet company a familiarity that tells you nothing has changed between you.

That is until he leans in a little too close and his fingers brush your wrist. You swallow thickly and wait for him to push you away again, when you feel him hesitate.

This is supposed to be the part where he pushes you away again, looking at his hand in disgust or wiping it on the back of his pants like he touched something dirty.

Instead, he reaches between you to link his fingers carefully with yours. It's like you are suddenly filled with helium, at risk of floating away if the feeling of Seokjin's warmth beside you wasn't there holding you to the ground.

"Is this okay?" You ask with wide eyes, nodding down at where his slightly clammy palm smothers your own.

He nods. You melt.

"You were right, the other day." Seokjin squeezes your hand comfortingly. "I need to stop hiding how I really feel."

You've never been to the residents part of the resort before. You never dared. But truthfully, by the time you realise you are walking not floating, you are already half way across the plaza.

Seokjin guides you around the circular fountain spitting water from the mouth of a cherub, carried by the breeze as a fine mist that feels cold and refreshing against your hot cheeks and marches you up a marble staircase to the resident lodge which rises up out of the ground like a beautiful half moon of white brick, stylish balconies decked with jacuzzis, chiffon curtains and a sea of people who fit Seokjin's class perfectly.

A tired looking doorman stands posted to the entrance and despite feeling Seokjin stiffen beside you, he never lets go of your hand. Not even when the doorman gives you a once over, an eyebrow raising at your casual attire.

You wait for Seokjin to force the doorman to sign an oath of secrecy when his eyes widen at your interlinked fingers, except the moment never comes. He simply rubs his thumb across your knuckles soothingly, striding straight past the doorman and holding the gilded door open for you to slip through himself.

You mumble a thanks, letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding and hope Seokjin can't feel the way your heart thumps against your rib cage uncontrollably. For what reason you can't quite decide — is it because you're conditioned to fear getting caught with Seokjin or because he doesn't seem to care?

Seokjin doesn't let go of you until he has to press the elevator button, and it feels ten degrees colder when he does. Your curious eyes take in the perfumed lobby, grand staircase winding upwards as far as the eye can see, lined with a carpet that's intricately embroidered with gold thread. Paintings line the walls which makes the place feel like some sort of museum and you half expect someone to ask you for an entry fee.

Then the elevator's ornate doors open with a ping you thought only existed in movies and Seokjin's hand is back and shuffling you into the elevator at the small of your back, refusing to leave even once you are inside.

The elevator is lined with polished mirrors and you do a double take when you make eye contact with your reflection, nearly reaching out and tapping the glass to check they are real and not the kind you find at a carnival that make everything look distorted. The way Seokjin pulls you closer to his side makes you look like any one of the other normal couples who frequent the resort, if you ignore the way your baggy cardigan contrasts his head to toe designer outfit.

Seokjin's too busy humming along to the classical music which crackles through the speakers overhead to notice the way your gaze travels to him. You know he wants to make you think that none of this affects him like it does you and his unbothered attitude would have worked had you not noticed the way his cheeks have a pinkish tinge, even in the dim yellow glow of the elevator.

The elevator opens, and you follow him down the hall only to find out Seokjin lives in one of the penthouses. You shouldn't be surprised but when he swipes a shiny key card and the lock beeps with a little green light that tells you the door is unlocked, you can't help the way your mouth gapes. Almost as if you were expecting it to flash red instead, denying you entrance and reminding you that you didn't belong in a place like this.

"Aren't you coming inside?" Seokjin has already crossed the threshold, wiping his polished shoes on the gaudy WELCOME mat inside while you stand awkwardly in the hallway, peeping through the crack of open door. You suddenly feel self conscious in your cardigan and leggings, as if you should've dressed up or something.

Seokjin seems to sense your hesitation, fingers finding your wrist with a smile. "You'll catch a cold out there."

He tugs and you don't resist, letting your feet follow him inside. "It's summer. And we're inside, Jin."

"Well how would I live with myself if I took the risk?" The click of the door locking echos from the high ceiling and you swallow thickly knowing there's no going back.

Inside, the suite looks like a luxury hotel room, like every last penny from the royal Mint had lived and died there.

It's open plan, the grand chandelier glimmering in the evening sun casting miniature rainbows across a living room consisting of pristinely white sofas sporting an array of throw cushions that look as though they have never been moved, collecting dust in the same way as the open magazine on the marble coffee table and the empty coffee mug beside it that look like they were placed there to create the illusion of the space being lived in.

Everything feels a little too pristine, a little too perfect like it materialised straight out of a furniture magazine.

The far wall is entirely glass, floor to ceiling windows looking out over a view of the entire resort; with a squint you can just make out the soft lights of the restaurant you know well, reflection shimmering like gold dust on the surface of the undisturbed public pool. An array of caddy boys on the golf courts collect stray balls and haul clubs back into the lodge and beyond that the vibrant gardens, a blur of pink roses and green hedges from where you stand but still a pleasant sight against the evenings pale blue sky.

Seokjin hums to himself as he flicks on all the lights, disappearing around a corner until you can't hear the click clack of his shoes against the tile anymore. You don't know if you are supposed to stay with knees knocking in the living room or if he was expecting you to follow him; but you presume the latter is true when his voice rings out into the room, jolting you from your shameless study of his living space.

"Have you eaten?" You shake your head in a silent no even though he can't see it, somehow managing to get your legs to carry you beneath a decorative arch and into the kitchen where Seokjin stands with his head ducked into a fancy looking fridge - even the most basic of appliances seem high tech, a touch pad visible on the front for what purpose you don't want to even ask. "I don't know about you but I'm famished."

"I was on my way to find something to eat when we — when you saw me, actually." The correction is quick but it makes your stomach feel funny. Since when did it start to feel normal to refer to you and Seokjin as a "we", as if you are anything but his accessory?

"Perfect." He emerges from the fridge with an armful of tupperware boxes balanced beneath his chin, foot kicking the door shut before he dumps the entire load onto the marble kitchen island that separates you from him.

"How about you stay for dinner?" He flashes you a small smile, corner of his mouth blowing the bangs out of his eyes, and your heart practically skips a beat.

It's just a formality surely, the polite thing to do. The Seokjin you knew was usually eager to get you out of his hair.

He is looking at you expectantly, your throat suddenly dry as you try to muster a response, an excuse. The word that immediately crosses your mind is no. This is dangerous and you know it. But then the bite in your stomach is back and despite knowing an I shouldn't be here in the first place would have been more appropriate, your lips betray you with a simple, "Yes." And the way that Seokjin's face lights up in surprise has every regret falling away as you relish in the knowledge that he is actually happy to have you.

"I thought I would have to bargain with you. You're usually stubborn with me." Shiny bar stools sit tucked beneath the little kitchen bar set up beside him, a few expensive looking champagne bottles littered across the surface. He pats one of the plush cushions in a gesture for you to sit which you graciously do, even as you scoff at his words and silently wonder why someone who lives alone needs so many seats.

"Because you're usually trying to get me to do something ridiculous." You chide. "And besides, I'm hungry."

"So you're just using me for my cooking skills, huh? I didn't think you were that kind of girl." Seokjin eyes you cheekily, hands fiddling with the dials on the stove with a pout. "How do you turn this thing on?"

You let out a sigh of mock despair, joining him at the counter and turning the knob until you hear a familiar click as the gas ignites, basking the kitchen in a blue glow. "If your 'skills' end with me getting food poisoning I'll never forgive you Kim Seokjin".

"I think I can handle a simple pasta dish," He retorts, but not before sending a pot from the utensil rack crashing to the ground with a clatter. "Maybe I spoke too soon." He picks up the appliance, holding it out to you sheepishly, a flush caressing his cheeks now.

You click your tongue but in no way maliciously, instinctively filling the pot with water and pulling open a few drawers in search of some other equipment. "Where do you keep the spoons?"

"Top drawer." You hear him call, settling himself into the askew stool you previously occupied, kicking his feet up onto the opposite stool and making you internally wince when the soles of his shoes settle on the white leather cushion. "Can I ask you something?"

Something in his voice changes, a seriousness that you aren't used to with him. In fact the only time you'd ever heard it was last week on the lake, when he admitted he felt like an outsider at Paradise.

You dump the pasta and lean against the counter to face him. "Sure."

"Do you think I'm an asshole?" He asks quietly.

You pause. "Sometimes." Eyes narrowed, you let out a sigh. "Why?"

"I'm sorry." Seokjin sounds small, and he wrings his hands together awkwardly. "For making you do all this for me, and then acting like a douche."

You push his feet off the stool and take a seat opposite him. Your mouth is dry, so you say nothing. He looks at you expectantly. Like he's hoping his apology will make up for the stinging hurt that still lingers in your chest every time you remember the look of shame in his eyes when he almost got caught talking to you at the gates. You flash him a sad smile, and he sighs when he realises it's not enough.

"God, I'm so fucking lame. What normal guy has to get a girl to pretend to be his fucking fiance?"

"What normal girl agrees to pretend? If you're lame then I'm just as bad." You chuckle, somewhat bitterly. "If you're so embarrassed by me, why don't you just tell your family? Then you won't have to worry someone will find out who I really am."

There's a sharpness to your words that makes Seokjin wince.

"It's not that I'm embarrassed of you! I'm...embarrassed of me." Seokjin rushes. "I just can't tell them. It would break them if they knew we've been lying."

Oh. So all this time he wasn't afraid someone would find out your real identity...he was just worried about disappointing his family?

"I always knew I was going to marry some nice girl from upstate and take over Paradise one day," He continues. "But now it's actually happening and I'm realizing I'm not cut out for this."

His head falls into his palms, forehead creased. You can tell this has been weighing on his mind for a while, and part of you feels thrilled that he trusts you enough to confide in you.

"I want to be the man they want me to be but I don't know how much longer I can pretend."

You slide your hand over the counter and cover his. He looks up, surprised, when you give it a comforting squeeze.

"I think you're just scared." You whisper. "I know you Seokjin, and you'll be an incredible CEO."

He puffs out his chest. "Pfft, I'm not scared."

"You're scared you won't be as good of an owner as your dad." You say. "And you're scared that you won't love the girl who you marry like you're supposed to."

Seokjin falls quiet, like what you said hit a nerve. He frowns. "I know what it's like to love someone. And those other girls -- the ones my parent's tried to set me up with -- they were nice and all but... I didn't feel it with any of them."

"You can't force love." You offer him a sympathetic smile. "Sometimes it just pops up in the strangest of places. It just happens."

"You're right." He smiles back, and shakes his shoulders like a weight has been lifted. His eyes soften fondly. "Hey. How do you always seem to know exactly what to say?"

"One of my many talents,"You laugh as you instinctively start to dish up your meal. That's what working in a kitchen does to you. "Including making incredible pasta."

The smell of carbonara wafts through the kitchen, and he rubs his stomach gratefully.

"God I love you." Seokjin says breathily, threading his hands through his hair and looking at you in wonder.

"What?" You go slack, the metal spoon between your fingers hitting the ground with a tinny crash.

Seokjin blinks twice before rushing to cover up his mistake. "You know what I mean."

You do know. But a part of you wishes that you didn't know, that you could pretend that the words that spilled from Seokjin's lips were real and true and meant something.

Not that it matters anyway. You aren't in love. You are just pretending to be. So why does it feel like a ton of bricks smushed your heart when you realise this was probably the only time you would ever hear him say those words, even if he didn't mean them how you wished he would?

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth before it can start to wobble and bend to your knees to retrieve the spoon. Seokjin is already ahead of you, leaping out of his chair to grasp the metal at the exact same time.

A gasp passes your lips when his hand covers yours tightly, the contact accidental but enough to send tingles up your spine like it always does. Except this time, it seems he feels it too, because when you dare to look up he is staring at your almost interlocked hands in wonder.

"Is now a bad time to repay one of your favours?" His voice is hoarse.

"What—"

Seokjin's fingers hook beneath your chin, tilting your head towards him so that he can press his lips against yours in a tentative kiss, swallowing your words in transit.

The kiss is slow and languid, the way he slots his plump bottom lip between yours making you melt instantly. His cheeks are warm and soft in your hands as you cup them, the action feeling just as natural as the warmth blossoming in your chest when Seokjin moves his mouth in time with your own with an impossible tenderness.

He sighs into your mouth like he'd been waiting forever to do this, and you feel a similar satisfaction, finally able to curb the craving for him that has been aching inside you since your last encounter when he left you standing alone on the veranda.

Seokjin's fingers trace up your arms tentatively, hairs raising wherever they touch, before tangling them in the hair at the base of your neck and pulling you ever deeper into the kiss, not just with pure desire like you were used to but with a yearning to hold you closer. For the first time you let yourself succumb to your senses, protective guard over your heart shattering as you get lost in the scent of his woody cologne and the roughness of his simultaneously pillowy lips.

By the time he pulls back you are already breathless and he is too, lips parted slightly, breath tickling your nose.

"Sorry." The curve of his lips tells you he didn't mean it. He wanted to kiss you. You melt. "'S cause I missed you, that's all"

"C'mere." With a breathy laugh you pull him closer to you again by the collar, mouths crashing together in a tangle of teeth and tongue this time that makes you burn with a hunger to commit every caress of his lips to memory, blood running hot as he tugs your bottom lip between his teeth like he wants to devour you right then and there. "I want you."

His hands search your body making you shudder, swell of your chest pressed to his as he slips his burning hot palms beneath your thighs to hoist you onto the kitchen island, uncaring when the spice rack rattles precariously. His lips never leave yours, tongue sweeping into your mouth in a way that has you panting for more, suddenly desperate to feel his warmth against you without the damn barrier of your leggings between you.

"Wanna take you right here so bad." Seokjin breaks away, eyes glazed over and slipping from your swollen lips momentarily to take in your quivering body, slotting himself between your welcoming legs. "God, you drive me crazy."

His hair tickles your cheek when he lets his face fall into the crook of your neck as if accepting defeat, his self control hanging by a thread in the same way as yours.

"Then take me." It's hushed whisper but it makes Seokjin groan, his hands rubbing flat circles into the tops of your thighs but never getting quite close enough to the ache that pulses between your legs, as though he can't trust himself.

"Don't want you to do something you'll regret." Seokjin sounds pained as he nips at your neck, lips sucking marks into the flesh obscenely while his tongue soothes the burn, your eyes squeezing shut at the sensation.

"I could never regret you." You stammer between quiet whimpers when his teeth attack the sensitive spot behind your ear and in that moment you believe every word. "I promise."

Seokjin leaves one last wet kiss to your jaw. "Open your eyes. Look at me." His hands tremble when they take your face between them and hold your already damp forehead against his. You obey, biting your lip when his own lustful eyes stare into yours with a gentleness. "Promise. You want this — me?"

Your heart throbs. "I promise."

"Then how could I refuse?" With a peck to your lips Seokjin hoists you over his shoulder like you are weightless, blood rushing to your head as you come face to face with his butt.

"Let me down!" You laughed as he carries you through the apartment, pounding your fists against his back playfully. He only tightens his grip, landing a sharp smack to your ass that has you quieting down quickly. "Ow!"

"Don't pretend you didn't like it." His voice is muffled as he lets you down but you can still hear his smirk before he even comes into view. Your back lands on top of a plush mattress, silken sheets a welcome cold against your skin which still burns from Seokjin's touch. You manage to glance around the room briefly, taking in the elegant matching silk drapes and the luxe gold trimmed furniture which makes it feel like a hotel room you probably could not afford.

But then Seokjin is hovering over you again and the way his eyes darken as they rake across your body captures all your attention.

"I wouldn't mind if you did it again." You hum coyly, enjoying the way his pupils dilate as he swallows a groan. Seokjin grips your ankles and lands another slap to the flesh of your ass that has you panting and choking on your own smirk.

"Such a slut, hm?" Your knees fall apart instinctively as he leans over your body, leaving a few lingering kisses across the expanse of your chest that peeks out of the top of your tank top, all while your fingers find the hem of his gym t-shirt. "God I love your ass."

"I'll fuck it myself if you don't hurry up." The way your hips buck up give away your impatience, never quite meeting the painfully visible tent in his crotch and gaining the friction you so desperately search for. Your panties are soaked through and clinging uncomfortably to your dripping folds by now, the heat between your legs pulsing unbearably.

Seokjin chokes at your threat, eyes rolling back as he pictures the image you painted. "F-fuck, I'd love to but maybe another time." Your lithe fingers manage to get his shirt over his shoulders, throwing the garment somewhere behind him and sucking in a gasp when you take in Seokjin's naked torso beneath the warm glow of his bedside lamp, toned and slightly damp with anticipation. "Gotta take care of this cunt first, hm?"

His palm cups your mound obscenely through your leggings and you whine at the first contact you'd received all night, eager to have him touch you without the barrier of your clothing. "P-please." The way you twist your hips needily, trying to grind your throbbing clit against the heel of his palm makes him laugh lightly.

"Sit back, get comfy." He helps you slide up the bed, arranging a selection of tasseled throw cushions behind your head until he's satisfied you are adequately supported, kneeling between your legs to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and press a prolonged peck to your parted lips. "Want this to be good for you."

"It's always good for me." You assure, fingers trailing fleetingly down his chest and feeling him tense above you at the ticklish contact. Seokjin makes quick work of your top, leaving you quickly in just your bra which you graciously save him the trouble of undoing by snapping the clasp open yourself.

The way he gazes in awe at your bare chest makes you self conscious, hands coming to cover the flush that caresses your face until he rolls one of your hardened nipples and lets out a sigh in unison with your own when your hands fall away, unable to focus on anything other than the tingle of Seokjin's touch and your own shallow pants.

"You're so pretty." His words make your chest blossom with warmth and you arch into his touch, air cold against your hard buds until Seokjin takes one of them into the heat of his mouth and reduces you to a gasping mess beneath him.

As soon as he comes up for air you manage to wriggle your hands between your flush bodies, latching on to the waistband of his gym shorts and sliding them down his thighs along with his boxers as soon as you catch his nod of confirmation.

His cock springs free, hard and already leaking against his stomach. Seokjin hisses at the cold air against his length. You wrap your hand around his girth, lidded gaze watching the way his face twists with a pleasurable agony with each flick of your wrist. He's hot and heavy in your palm, impossibly hard and your entrance clenches when his cock pulses against your palm, forcing him to swallow a moan and stop his hips from thrusting into your hand. You are suddenly hyper aware of how empty you are, another bout of lust pooling in your stomach as you anticipate how good he would fill you up, length enough to stretch you out perfectly.

When your palm twists around the angry reddened tip he just about looses his mind, falling forward to grip your shoulder with a bruising grip, uncaring when a few choked groans spill into your ear. You take pride in the way he falls apart so easily until his large palm covers yours and halts your ministrations all together.

"Stop, fuck—" He squeezes his eyes shut, letting out a hiss as he tries to regain his control, length twitching and drooling against your bare stomach. "Nearly came, shit." Seokjin's chest heaves with laboured breaths, cheeks flushed as he grips the base of his length firmly.

"I'm that good huh?" The teasing tone makes his eyes snap up, the scarlet tint to his cheeks deepening.

"No — I mean yes — but mostly I've been imagining this for a while." He seems slightly sheepish and you find it cute, feeling a little pang in your heart when his nose scrunches with shyness at his confession. "Got too worked up too fast."

"Guess you don't want me to suck you off for a bit, then?" You ask almost hopefully, your heat growing ever wetter at the thought of his girth fucking your throat mercilessly.

"There's plenty of time for that, princess." The glint in his eye is the same as the one he had that day in the locker rooms, except this time you trust his words knowing that nothing could stop you coming back for more.

"Guess I'll have to save my skills for another day, then." Seokjin chuckles at the pout that graces your lips, swatting your hand away before it could stroke his length again. "Unless..."

"Brat." The shake of his head is affectionate.

"Don't pretend you don't like it." You echoe his earlier words and he rolls his eyes to your amusement.

"Touché."

He holds your gaze for a little too long, the way his eyes soften at the edges and his lips part cutely too intimate for you to deal with in the moment so you focus on the neglected ache between your legs instead.

You interrupt the moment before you let a piece of your heart flutter straight into his hands. "Hurry up and get inside me, idiot!"

"Okay, okay jeez!" Seokjin raises his hands defensively before he shuffles down the bed, eye level with your crotch.

You can't help the way you arch off the bed as he peels away your leggings, whining shamelessly when your swollen folds finally hit the air.

Soon enough you feel Seokjin's hot breath hovering over your slit, making your clit pulse even more desperately if that were possible. Before he could devour your heat like you wanted him to, you are reminded of his own self control. "'S not fair, is it?" You slur, head spinning with lust as he spreads your lips with his fingers, taking you in completely.

"Not going to eat you out this time, don't worry," The sight of him looking up at you with pleading eyes from between your legs, lips inches away from your clit, is enough to have the coil in your stomach tightening, sure you could cum just from the visual alone. "Just a taste?"

You nod, too breathless to speak, and he runs a flat stripe up your dripping slit, the contact enough to make your legs shake and your head fall back against the cushions. He places a single kiss to your clit which makes you quiver before he climbs back up so you are eye level. "Can't get enough of your pussy," Your breath mingles, his lips glistening with your arousal just inches from yours. "Could taste you forever."

"You can." You whisper.

His tongue traces your bottom lip languidly. You can taste yourself just barely on his lips. "I don't deserve you."

Seokjin supports himself on his forearms, hovering over your body and taking his cock in his palm to line it up with your entrance.

"Ready?" He scans your face for any concerns, any suggestion that you are having second thoughts. Even your small smile and the shameless twists of your hips as you tried to impale yourself on his cock wasn't enough to appease him, apparently. "Promise?"

The tenderness in his voice makes you lose your breath in a mixture of shock and warmth. This has to be a dream. "Promise."

Seokjin's lidded eyes light up and he finds your hand where it tugs on the sheets beside your bodies and carefully interlinks your fingers. The callouses on his fingers, the grooves of his palm and how it slots perfectly into yours is starting to feel familiar. You don't have time to dwell on whether the action was supposed to feel as romantic as it did before he's pushing the tip of his cock against your entrance which clenches with every inch until he bottoms out with a guttural groan of his own.

The slide is slow and languorous, allowing you to feel every ridge of his cock drag against your walls, the stretch burning a little as you tried to accommodate his girth.

"So fucking wet for me, huh?" It's true; you can feel your arousal dripping down your ass, his hips meeting yours with an audible squelch that was testament of his affect on you. You feel his cock twitch inside you, his nose scrunching as he resists slamming into you straight away to allow you to adjust. Instead he focuses on rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs into your hips, taking in your bare form with a fascination. "So fucking pretty underneath me like this."

"All for you." You manage to stutter between hard pants as he snaps his hips back until just the head of his cock remains at your entrance and you whine with the impossible emptiness. "I'm all yours."

"Promise me." It comes out as a command but it's tainted with a softness that makes your cheeks burn with more than just lust.

"I promise. I'm all yours."

That's all it takes to have him slamming back into you, hips meeting yours repeatedly with a loud slap which is almost drowned out by the soft moans that spill from his lips into the crook of your neck. He's more vocal than you were expecting and it drives you crazy.

"Fuck, I'm close." His breath hitches at your words, tongue snaking out to wet his lips as he shudders closer to his high. With a pained expression he pauses mid thrust, head barely inside you as he searches your face for answers with desperate eyes. "Where can I—"

"Inside me." You buck your hips, whimpering when he slides back into you to the hilt as if he can't help it. "Wanna feel you fill me up."

"Shit, okay." He stutters as your fingers move the bangs stuck to his sweaty forehead, his neck and shoulders glistening slightly in the deep glow of the room. "God, you're so tight."

By now you are clenching around him wildly, the heat between your legs getting hotter with every drag of his cock against your velvety walls. With his next thrust he hits your sweet spot deliciously, the mewl that leaves you alerting him of the fact and he watches with a dark amusement as your eyes roll back and you lose yourself to the feeling.

"Mmf — g-gonna cum." Seokjin's thumb rubs circles into your throbbing clit in time with his thrusts and the pressure is enough to have you falling over the edge, vision fading to black as Seokjin fucks you through your high.

"That's it, cum for me baby," He coaxes, thrusts turning sloppy as you feel him release inside you, the feeling of him coating your now sensitive walls almost too much. "S-shit."

You don't realise your eyes are squeezed shut until Seokjin's palm cups your chin, his face a picture of pure bliss when your lashes finally flutter open. There's barely any distance between your noses, his breath lightly tickling your parted lips and you're sure he can hear your heart thumping against your rib cage, loud in your ears as he closes the distance between you in a lazy kiss that feels indescribably intimate with him softening inside you.

"I don't deserve you." He says again, voice croaky this time. "You could do better than me."

"Shut up," His cheek presses to your chest, warm against your clammy skin. "Don't be silly."

"There's something I need to tell you..." He begins, cut off when you sit upright abruptly, eyes wide. "It's nothing bad. Well, it might be depends on how you respond. It's just that day on the lake, when I saw how Taehyung looked at you, and when I thought I lost you, it made me realise that I'm—"

"No, not that." You begin feeling around for your underwear. "I think the pasta boiled over!"

"Oh shit!" He joins your search for clothes, rolling onto his back beside you, though you don't miss the frown that appeared on his face. "Guess I can wait a little longer."

#bts smut #bts #seokjin smut #ksmutclub #smutcentralnet #seokjin fluff #seokjin imagine #seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #btswriterscollective #btsguild #kwordsmiths #bangtanarmynet #thebtsclub #my writing #fic: better with you

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firemblem-fics · 4 years

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you’re mine. | sylvain

-> Pairing: Sylvain x Reader | Academy

-> Genre: Fluff, Lime (?? is that what it’s called?)

-> Warnings: Cursing, Suggestive Scenes, Making Out

-> A/N: hee hoo this is as close to smut as i will write as a minor but it’s still a decent amount to be honest. sylvain’s academy age is 19-20, so reader is of course 18+ as well

To Sylvain, the ball at Garreg Mach Monastery was the perfect opportunity to scout. He’d planned the night perfectly, starting off a dance with Mercedes first. From there, he’d cast her off to the next man and reach for another lady in his vicinity, giving them each teasing winks and suggestive smiles to try and woo them into his bed.

This was a sure-fire way to get women wrapped around his finger. They’d run to him at his every call, throwing themselves at his feet whenever he pleased.

So why couldn’t he stand the sight of any woman now?

He stepped into the reception hall with utmost confidence seeping from his pores, but he couldn’t finish scanning the ballroom once his eyes laid on you from across the room. You were smiling and talking to Claude, who was standing way too close to you for Sylvain’s comfort. He wanted to stomp over there and yank you away from him, but that would tarnish his reputation.

Sylvain Gautier was supposed to see you as a toy. That’s how the two of you acted together- you both flirted relentlessly, making suggestive pickup lines and leaving lingering touches on the other to leave them flustered. It was just harmless flirting, it wasn’t as if Sylvain was courting you. That thought sent a pang through his chest, but he shook it off.

You were just another woman to mess with. You just happened to be more fun than the others. Sylvain was just a little more fond of messing with you because you reciprocated. And you reciprocated because you also didn’t feel any true feelings, right?

Sylvain watched as you laughed loudly at something the Golden Deer leader said, smacking his shoulder as he leaned even closer to you with a grin. Obviously you didn’t feel for Sylvain- you wouldn’t be so friendly with Claude if you did.

The redhead shook his head and took a deep breath, plastering on a seductive smile and walking to the first woman he saw- a beautiful brunette with an even better body. He leaned down and kissed her hand, leading her to the dance floor for a few dances.

You had just finished laughing at Claude’s latest corny joke when he looked up, his dark eyebrow quirking as he looked over your shoulder. You turned around as well, gazing at the pairs that glided across the ballroom floor with grace and nobility. If you weren’t so bad at dancing, you’d love to be out there with them.

“Looks like your boy toy has found another.” Claude pointed to said boy, who held that... gorgeous brunette close to his chest. His lips moved against her ear, undoubtedly telling her all the things he tells you as you walk past him in the halls.

Your heart clenched, but you rolled your eyes and took a sip of your drink. “And? He’s called a boy toy for a reason. It’s not serious.”

Claude laughed. “You’re obviously jealous. You just got an attitude with me- you never do that.”

“Listen,” You sighed, “I made my choice and sealed my fate by messing around with one of the most emotionally unavailable bastards there is. It’s fine.”

“Doesn’t seem fine to me.” Claude grabbed your drink from you and set it down on the table next to him, grabbing your hand and pulling you to the dance floor. “C’mon. I’m gonna help you.”

“You- what? Claude, I don’t need help.” You tried to struggle out of his arms, but they tightened against your hips and he leaned close, looking towards Sylvain before brushing his nose with yours.

“He’s staring. Has been since he walked in. Just- trust me.”

You looked into Claude’s eyes, which were shimmering with mischievousness. Typical. But, Claude’s plans and intuitions were usually right. You needed to trust him to do... whatever he’s trying to do. You nodded.

Claude smirked and pulled you against him even more, his head dipping down to press against your temple. You moved your arms around his neck to get even closer. You tried to focus on your dancing instead of Claude’s actions- you couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable letting someone else touch you while your crush watched, but you trusted Claude.

Suddenly, you stiffened and tripped over your feet. Claude had turned his head slightly and nibbled on your ear, licking the shell of it before moving down even more and pressing a kiss against the junction of your shoulder and neck. Your fingers tightened against the cloth of his uniform, slightly enjoying the affection.

Teasing words and compliments only went so far. You were a little touch starved- Sylvain did leave you high and dry at least once a week.

Claude lifted his head to look above yours, catching eyes with Sylvain, who quirked an unamused eyebrow at him. He smirked and slid his hand down from your waist, firmly grabbing your ass.

You gasped in shock, smacking his shoulder. “What was that for?”

“He’s not looking too happy. Thought I’d rile him up even more.”

Claude turned you in a slow circle, allowing you to see over his shoulder. Your heart dropped. He was wrong. Sylvain was pressed up against a different girl now, practically grinding himself against her as he danced around the room. He was obviously enjoying himself, not giving a single glance towards you. You sighed and lightly pushed Claude away. He gave you a questioning look.

“I- I need some fresh air. I’ll be back to dance more later.” You patted his shoulder and began to walk out of the ballroom when Claude called out to you.

“You might not be able to walk later, much less dance!”

You flipped him off right as the doors closed, leaving you alone in the courtyard. You walked around, breathing in the chilly night air and taking a seat on one of the benches in the area.

You felt foolish for thinking that Sylvain could have actually cared about what you were doing. Foolish for believing that maybe you were different from all the other girls. Foolish for letting him be different from any other boy.

You sniffed, wiping away a stray tear that threatened to fall.

“Quite the spectacle you put on back there.”

You jumped and stood off the bench, startled by the one voice you didn’t want to hear tonight. “Sylvain.”

“Y/N.” He stepped closer to you. “I noticed you left. I’m a little surprised you’re out here alone instead of with your new little fling.”

“Fling? You mean Claude? Oh, Goddess no, that’s not it-“

“It isn’t? Then why was he kissing your neck? I don’t think friends act that way.” His amber eyes darkened as he thought about the Alliance heir being so close to you.

“Oh, they don’t? Are we not friends?” Sylvain looked confused, so you gained confidence and stepped closer to him to elaborate. “Those flirts. The touches and compliments and everything else that you and I do. They’re the same thing that Claude did. You and I are friends, so why can’t he be as well? Could it be that you’re-“

Sylvain grabbed your wrist and yanked you towards him, pressing a rough kiss against your lips. You melted into it, your free hand reaching up to cup his jaw. Sylvain pulled away and wrapped his large hands around your waist, hoisting you up and giving you another kiss.

“Jealous? Yes.” He turned around and carried you towards the classrooms, pushing open the door to the Blue Lions room. “You’re mine.”

You suddenly scoffed. “I am? So I can’t go around messing with other guys, but you can mess with other women? No- let me down. I’m not doing that.”

Sylvain held you tighter during your struggling and closed the door, practically slamming you against the wood and pressing himself into you. He sighed and leaned in, gently brushing his lips against yours.

“Okay, okay. That was a shitty thing for me to do. Truth is, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.” He paused, thinking about his words. “I didn’t want to admit that I, Sylvain ‘Womanizer’ Gautier, had caught feelings for another girl I was just supposed to mess with. So I danced with others to try and get my mind off of you.”

His thumbs rubbed gentle circles on the dips of your hips and he looked up, gazing fiercely into your eyes before continuing. “But when you started dancing with Claude, I got mad. He started touching you and being all close, like how I wanted to be, and I let jealousy get the best of me. I- Y/N, I’m sorry. You don’t have to forgive me, but I promise you this will not happen again. I’ll be faithful to you and work through my issues-“

“Sylvain.”

“...Yes?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

He smiled and leaned in, still holding onto your hips as your lips met again. You gripped his shoulders tightly and smiled as he moved you both away from the door and laid you down on one of the tables. You ran your fingers through his hair as he moved down, beginning to trail kisses along your neck.

“You’re too good to me.” He groaned out, taking extra time to mark a spot on your neck that you were extra receptive to. “So sweet, and forgiving, and perfect. It’s like you were made for me.”

You couldn’t hold back a smile as you brought the boy above you back up for another kiss, this time opening your mouth to let his tongue in. Alone in the classroom, the two of you shared a dance of your own as Sylvain’s warm hands toyed with the hem of your shirt.

He slowly worked his fingers underneath the thin cloth, splaying one hand against your stomach while the other reached down to squeeze one your thighs that were wrapped around his waist.

Just as Sylvain began to slide his hand up your thigh, loud laughter echoed from the courtyard. You shot up and Sylvain quickly wrapped his arms around you, impulsively shielding you from potential danger- or embarrassment. You peeked over his shoulder and saw a small group- Dimitri, Dedue, Ingrid, and Felix- walk past the classrooms towards the dorms. They didn’t even spare a glance in your direction, much to your relief.

As the laughter subsided, you looked back at Sylvain, only to see that he was already looking at you with something that could only be described as adoration in his eyes.

“I guess the dance is over, huh?” You laughed, unable to hide the disappointment that you felt knowing that you’d have to be separated from Sylvain soon.

He gently smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I mean, we can still spend time together tonight. I want to catch up on all the times I thought about kissing you but didn’t.”

You smirked. “And how many times would that be?”

Sylvain leaned down and captured your lips once more. “Every time I’ve ever looked at you.”

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem imagines #fire emblem three houses x reader #x reader #fire emblem three houses imagines #sylvain #sylvain x reader #sylvain imagines #sylvain jose gautier #sylvain jose gautier x reader #sylvain jose gautier imagines #lay writes #lime

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lilyvandersteen · 3 years

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The Christmas Guest Chapter 9

Author’s Note: Are you ready for some Klaine kisses? I’m sure you are, so enjoy :-)

Read Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 and Chapter 5, the Interlude, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 and Chapter 8 here on Tumblr, or read the story on AO3 or FF.net.

Chapter 9: Kisses

Kurt woke up in what seemed like the middle of the night when all of a sudden, he went from toasty warm to cold. Where was that duvet? Oh, there it was!

Kurt tucked it close around and underneath him and tried to nod off again. He’d almost succeeded when the duvet was cruelly snatched loose again and a pillar of ice - or was it a boulder of granite? - was shoved against his back. He shivered and tried to push it away, but it wouldn’t budge. Gradually, the stone slab warmed up and softened around him, but not before he’d woken up enough to realize it was actually Blaine’s body. Why he’d ventured out of bed at such an ungodly hour was anybody’s guess, and Kurt hoped he’d make no more such excursions. He wanted to sleep at night, damn it, and preferably until he felt fully rested, thank you very much.

He tried to slip back into sleep, but now he felt too disgruntled and keyed up to manage that. He stayed still and tried to empty his mind. That wasn’t easy, because he was hyperaware of Blaine’s presence – his chest pressed against Kurt’s back, his legs entwined with Kurt’s, his arm slung over Kurt’s waist, his warm hand on top of Kurt’s and his thumb moving back and forth in a soothing pattern.

And then Kurt let out a wordless gasp, because… was that really a love declaration he’d just heard from Blaine? Surely, that was Blaine being sleep-drunk and not realizing whom exactly he was in bed with, right? Right?

Blaine seemed to fall asleep right after that, but Kurt lay awake staring at the ceiling until he heard Carole get up, and decided to go downstairs too. Might as well make a nice Christmas breakfast for everybody, now that he couldn’t sleep anyway.

Carole looked surprised when he entered the kitchen, and then worried. “Are you okay, honey? Is your throat troubling you again?”

Kurt shook his head and helped himself to coffee. “Just couldn’t sleep anymore, so I came here to do some baking.”

By the time Blaine showed up, Finn had already had three helpings of French toast and was pestering Kurt to take his Christstollen out of the oven already so that he could have a slice. “Mom won’t let me have more French toast, ‘cause Blaine hasn’t had any yet.”

Kurt rolled his eyes at his impatient brother, and ignored him as much as he could.

Blaine seemed uncomfortable when the time came to exchange Christmas presents, but cheered up when he remembered he had gifts in his luggage that were apparently generic enough to work just as well for the Hudmel family as they would have for the Andersons.

Looking up from the gifts he’d just unpacked, Kurt saw Blaine hug Carole and beam with pride when she thanked him. His father seemed just as pleased, inspecting a set of… were those beer glasses?

As Carole had remarked before, Blaine seemed part of the family already. Kurt could so easily imagine a life with Blaine always by his side from now on. So clearly that it hurt to realize this might be snatched away from him as soon as their break was over and they had to head back to New York.

Kurt got a lump in his throat, and his eyes pricked. Once again, he found himself wishing that someway, somehow, they could untangle the mess they’d made of things and turn this into something real.

K & B

New Year’s Eve arrived, and though Kurt was looking forward to seeing his friends again, he was nervous as well. Rachel, he could deal with, but he hoped Mercedes would react well. She might be just as angry as Rachel that he hadn’t told her about Blaine yet. They hadn’t talked in several months, but still. And Santana was sure to be a nightmare. He hoped she wouldn’t scare Blaine off by asking him all sorts of invasive questions.

As usual when he felt stressed, he avoided everyone else in the house, and spent far more time choosing his outfit and getting ready than he otherwise would. He didn’t leave the sanctuary of his room until Finn threatened to leave without him.

At least all the prepping and fussing about his appearance hadn’t been for nothing. Blaine was gaping at him, struck speechless with admiration.

Well, that made Kurt feel much better already, so much that he didn’t even roll his eyes at his father’s loud warnings and instructions before they left.

When they arrived at the party, Rachel lit into Kurt at once, letting him have it for keeping silent about Blaine. After living with her for so long, Kurt knew Rachel inside out, and won the argument deftly, without so much as raising his voice.

Mentally high-fiving himself, he introduced Rachel to the newcomers, and then led the way to the makeshift bar, on high alert when he spotted Santana there.

He braced himself for crude remarks, but she let them go with barely an innuendo. He might have guessed she had other mischief on her mind, like tampering with their drinks. When Blaine pointed out she’d spiked them, Kurt felt his temper flare up, but he knew a confrontation with Santana never ended well for her opponent, so he just took a deep breath and slipped away to the kitchen for three soda cans.

Mercedes waylaid him as he was heading back. As he’d guessed, she wasn’t too pleased at being left out of the loop. Kurt weaseled out of that by telling her he had waited until he was sure Blaine was there to stay. “Every time I tell you I have met someone new, I’m always convinced it’s going well, and then after three dates, I find out they’re only in it for the hooking up. And I feel so ashamed, you know? So this time, I wanted to be sure this was going to last.”

Mercedes’ glower disappeared, and a thoughtful look replaced it. “And you think it is? You must, or you would never have taken him to meet your dad.”

Kurt nodded, and before he knew it, he was talking his friend’s ear off about Blaine, telling her how sweet and caring he was, how beautifully he sang, and how he had charmed everyone in the Hudmel household in two seconds flat. “He’s… He’s amazing, ‘Cedes. I… I could see myself marrying him. Not that… I know it’s way too early to be thinking along those lines, I know, but…”

Mercedes grinned. “Aww, someone’s smitten.”

Kurt bit his lip. There was no denying that, unfortunately.

“Hey, I’m happy for you, boo. You deserve this. But he better treat you right, or I’ll rip him a new one.”

Kurt sneaked a look in Blaine’s direction, and saw to his horror that he was being interrogated by Tina.

Uh-oh, I need to go rescue him!

“You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?”

Startled, he whipped his head around, and saw Mercedes fake-pout at him.

“Sorry, ‘Cedes. You were saying?”

Mercedes shook her head, smiling. “We’ll talk later. You go and get back to your sweetheart.”

Kurt didn’t have to be told twice, and hurried to the love seat where Blaine was sitting. To his relief, Blaine was holding his own, telling Tina their fake meet cute story with relish, his eyes shining.

Kurt grinned happily and took over, pleased at how Tina lapped it all up.

When the story came to its end, Kurt saw Tina’s eyes flitting to Cathy, who was sitting next to them. Finn was nowhere near, and Cathy seemed very ill at ease.

Making a mental note to berate Finn for abandoning his girlfriend at a party where she knew practically no-one, Kurt turned the conversation to Tina, and she was only too happy to catch him up.

Mercedes joined them, and Kurt forgot about anything and anyone else as he chatted with her. It had been ages since their last phone call, and even longer since they’d seen each other in person, but their friendship was such that they could pick up where they had left off as if no time had passed at all.

Kurt was so focused on Mercedes that he was startled when Blaine asked him something.

Oh! Blaine! Oh wow, so much for berating Finn… I’m just as bad as he is! No, even worse. I’m forgetting all about Blaine while sitting on his lap!

And what was that Blaine was saying?

Mercedes cottoned on faster than Kurt, and announced for the whole room that Kurt and Blaine were going to sing together.

What?!

Before Kurt knew it, Blaine was tugging him along to the karaoke stage. He felt off balance both mentally and physically, stumbling over his feet and not feeling at all ready to sing.

Blaine, instead of giving Kurt a minute to compose himself, laughed away his concerns, and then, just when Kurt was about to lose his temper, Blaine gave him a sweet kiss on the hand and a smile so sunny that it warmed him from within and made his anger melt away.

Okay, okay. I can do this. I can.

They chose a karaoke classic Kurt had sung before, and he was pleased to note that their voices blended extremely well. In that respect, too, Blaine was a great match.

Kurt beamed at Blaine when the song came to its end, feeling invigorated.

It took only one moment – and one infuriating friend – to ruin his mood. Rachel came to congratulate them, and in the same breath, she demanded to sing with Blaine too.

Blaine, as accommodating as ever, seemed willing to duet with Rachel, but Kurt wasn’t having any of it.

Too long had Rachel swooped in and taken everything Kurt had his eye on. Not this time. No.

He sent Rachel a death glare, and with a loud “No!”, he grabbed Blaine’s hand and led him away from her, his blood thrumming “Mine” with every step he took.

And then suddenly Santana was there blocking their way and taunting him, and Kurt’s frustration with this whole situation reached its boiling point, and he shouted at her to leave them alone.

Seconds later, he regretted his outburst, but the damage was done. Santana narrowed her eyes and smirked and started making insinuations, and he was so sick of this. It turned out being teased about your relationship wasn’t much fun when there was no actual relationship to make up for the teasing. Nothing but a sweet guy who went along with pretty much anything people asked of him. Not just Kurt, and he would do well to remember that. They’d established some kind of friendship, yes, but that was all.

Suddenly, he felt bone-weary, and his response was lackluster. How soon after midnight was too soon to leave a New Year’s party, anyway?

He turned to Blaine to tell him he was tired and wanted to go home, but before he could get the first word out, Blaine gave him an intense look, cupped his face in both hands and kissed him.

It wasn’t a gentle peck on the lips. Blaine’s kiss was deep and heady from the start, as if he wanted to tap into Kurt’s very essence.

Kurt, reeling inside, grabbed onto Blaine like a lifeline, because his legs felt like rubber all of a sudden, and his head was all woozy.

Wow. So that’s what kisses are supposed to be about. I’ve been missing out.

As soon as he’d gotten over his initial surprise, Kurt got with the program and started kissing back, winding his arms around Blaine’s middle, closing his eyes and just enjoying the moment.

He would gladly have kissed Blaine the whole night through, but reality intervened, in the form of a very drunk Quinn bumping into him and jolting him out of his kiss-induced haze.

“Sorry,” she slurred, but Kurt paid more attention to the countdown going on. “Six! Five!”

So it wasn’t New Year yet? Then why had Blaine kissed him all of a sudden?

“Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!!”

Everyone around them cheered, and Blaine moved in for another kiss, this one soft and sweet.

“Happy New Year,” Blaine whispered.

“Happy New Year.”

Kurt hoped his face didn’t show all the questions that were running through his head. They still had appearances to keep up, after all. They could discuss this when they were back in his bedroom.

Blaine gave Kurt a soft smile and moved in to nuzzle and kiss his neck.

Ooh, that feels good!

Kurt’s eyes snapped shut of his own accord, and he threw his head back to allow Blaine better access.

Moments later, a voice broke through the thick haze of arousal.

“Ugh, take your soft porn somewhere we don’t have to see it!”

Santana. Apparently, she hadn’t left when they started kissing.

Kurt opened his eyes to tell her she’d done worse with Brittany right in front of him, but before he could speak, someone else said, “Speak for yourself, San. I’m enjoying the show, boys, don’t stop!”

Quinn! Behind her, Sugar, Rachel, Tina and Mercedes were grinning and nodding, and even Puck looked intrigued. The only one who looked slightly nauseated was Finn, but Cathy was beaming at Kurt and winking.

“I think we’re ready to go home,” Kurt announced. “Finn, Cathy, are you coming with us or do you want to stay a bit longer?”

The four of them walked home in silence. Kurt’s head was still overflowing with questions, but he didn’t want Finn to overhear anything, so he kept them all inside.

He shivered in the crisp winter night, and Blaine immediately slung an arm around his waist and pulled him close.

“Better?”

“Much.”

And it was. Kurt happily basked in the body heat Blaine provided, and looked forward to having Blaine warm his icy feet in bed.

They snuck in silently. Finn had clearly decided that if Blaine could sleep over, then so could Cathy. Finn threw Kurt a defiant look, daring him to say something, but seemed only fair to Kurt, so all he said was “Goodnight” before he led Blaine upstairs.

They undressed in silence, and it wasn’t until they were snug in bed, Kurt soaking up Blaine’s heat greedily, that they spoke. Both at the same time.

“Why did you kiss me?”/ “Sorry for kissing you without asking first.”

Kurt turned to look at Blaine. In the moonlight, his expression was serious, and his eyes soft and pleading.

“I… didn’t mind. I just wondered… Why?”

Blaine ducked his head. “Santana was… I thought… It seemed like a good idea at the time. To allay suspicions.”

Kurt digested this. “So it was just for show?”

Blaine swallowed before he answered, his Adam’s apple going up and down, and then he shook his head.

With bated breath, Kurt waited for him to say something more.

“I like you, okay?” Blaine then whisper-shouted. “I know we got thrown into this by a misunderstanding, and we’re not really boyfriends, but I would like to. You’re amazing, Kurt. And these past few day have shown me that we click really well. Do you think… Would you want to…?”

And then it was Kurt moving in for a kiss, clumsy and off-center and full of teeth because they were both grinning into it.

“Yes. Yes yes yes, please. Let’s try this for real.”

#klaine fanfiction #my fic #The Christmas Guest #chapter 9 #fake dating

43 notes · View notes

nnightskiess · 4 years

Text

santana lopez imagine

i kinda combined two requests together bc i thought they’d fit well!

a/n: this is for u elena. sorry you had to wait so long♡

also, i wanted to try and show that soft and nervous side of santana that came out at the beginning with dani, so i’m sorry if it feels out of character sometimes. (i did my best lol)

“So, what’s been going on with you? I haven’t seen you in a few months.”

Y/N was having lunch with her friends from back home. It had been hard to keep in touch with them now that she had been living in New York for over a year. Not that she’d complain, since she gained multiple new friends and... well, a relationship. And not with just anyone— with Santana Lopez, whose singing career skyrocketed after a duet on Mercedes Jones’ album. She got a record deal a month after and her first EP was a hit. She went on tour with her first album but had vanished off the face of the earth after her very public breakup with her high school girlfriend and her backup dancer, Brittany S. Pierce. She stopped posting on social media, she wasn’t spotted by paparazzi anymore and her plans for a second album were now off the table. It was clear to everyone that the breakup had broken the girl. That was until she walked into the diner she used to work at and locked eyes with Y/N. Santana didn’t want to fall in love with anyone else and wasn’t completely over Brittany, so it wasn’t love at first sight.

But the moment Y/N stole the show while taking the lead singing Shout by The Trammps, she knew there was something special about the girl. Was it her voice that Santana’s mind went to when she lied in bed that night? Or the twinkle in her eyes when she sang? Or perhaps the way her smile widened a tad bit more when she looked at Santana?

Santana found herself go back to the diner on days where she’d rather sit in bed and cry. She’d forget her sorrow in moments they locked eyes but could cry again when Y/N wasn’t working that day.

Santana had taken her notebook with her, the one she would never let anyone read— well, except for Brittany. It’s where most of her songs were born and where her most delicate and vulnerable thoughts were being kept. She’d never been too keen on sharing emotions with everyone, so writing them down was a great alternative.

“I normally wouldn’t ask, but I’ve seen you here with that notebook now at least a couple of times... Are you writing a book?”

Santana’s head shot up. Y/N was standing next to her table, wiping her hands onto her apron.

Santana cracked a soft smile, “No—actually, I’m writing songs... a song... well, trying to, at least. My label wants-” She swallowed her sentence, she didn’t want this girl to know about any of that drama.

Y/N seemed to ignore it.

“You sing?”

Santana nodded but furrowed her eyebrows when Y/N sat down in front of her. “Go on, then. Let me hear what you’ve got so far.”

“Oh, no no no-”

Y/N pursed her lips, “Did it happen not too long ago?” she asked after a couple of seconds of Santana trying to get out of this situation.

She rose her eyebrows, unsure of how Y/N read the situation so well,

“It’s actually been a while but it still hurts.” She caught herself confessing.

“Then I won’t pry. I’ll leave you to it.” Y/N slid out of the booth, “Oh, and— I happen to know that our strawberry milkshake is the best medicine to heartbreak. It’s on me.”

“Thanks...” Santana watched her leave into the kitchen and immediately rubbed her temples when the girl left her sight. No, no, no, no. Not again. But wasn’t this exactly the reason she had started visiting the diner more and more? To spike up a conversation with the girl? She cursed at herself, stood up, grabbed her stuff and left the diner. She wasn’t ready yet. She could take the short glances and attention, but that was the line. The only woman she had truly trusted was no longer with her, she couldn’t open up to anyone again.

Through the window of the diner she could see the girl with a disappointed expression on her face the moment she realised Santana had left. But Santana didn’t turn around and kept walking.

✫彡

“Okay, stop crushing my spirit. I wanted a nice dinner with you.”

“Then you should’ve just asked Berry over for dinner. I’m sure she’d tell you all about her awfully cheerful day.”

Kurt put his hand on Santana’s so that she would stop playing with her food. She glared at him.

“You can glare at me all you want, but we’re not going to brush things under the carpet. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Santana dropped her cutlery and sat back, crossing her arms. “We’re not talking about Britt again. You want to help me move on? Then fucking stop bringing it up.”

“No, not that. There’s something else. I can sense it.”

“Since when do you have a Mexican third eye as well?”

“Off topic.” Kurt waved her off. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Santana lowered her head and slightly looked up at him, trying to decide wether to share or not.

“Is the label pressuring you?” He tried.

Santana sighed, “Well, yes, that too.”

Kurt waited patiently for Santana to feel comfortable enough to share the rest.

“They were okay with delaying the start of my second album but now they’re starting to breathe down my neck. They say it’s been long enough and that i’m just deadweight they have to pay but get nothing in return for, which is fair— but still. I’m only human, I’m not some super song-writing machine like Mercedes.”

“I thought you loved writing songs?”

“Yeah... when I had Brittany.” Santana looked at her lap and started playing with her hands. “Now that I don’t have her... I can’t seem to even write one sentence... and when I do, they’re all just too gloomy or depressing.”

Kurt nodded in understanding. “Well, Adele wrote one whole album about her breakup which sold like Wonka bars. Who says you can’t?”

Santana shook her head, “You don’t get it. I don’t want to sing about her anymore, even though it might help me move on. But the thing is...” she bit her lip, “I can’t. I don’t want to.”

“Then write about how you can’t write. Write about how you want to feel instead of feeling like your heart has been ripped out. Write about conquering this heartbreak, like a powerful song?”

“How?” Santana looked up, tears in her eyes.

“By remembering who you were before.”

“But I’ve been with Britt for as long as I-”

Kurt shook his head and waved his hands around, “No, think of the Santana in high school. You were fierce, strong, not afraid to speak your mind but you also had a big heart. You didn’t want to show it often but we all knew yours was just as big, if not bigger, as ours. Remember how it felt every time you got a solo and when you stood on the stage? Write about that feeling. Write about feeling on top of the world again.”

“Thanks, Hummel.”

He smiled at her and squeezed her hands, “Anytime. Now eat before it gets cold. I didn’t spend two hours in the kitchen for nothing.”

✫彡

Santana walked out off the apartment she had rented after her breakup with Brittany and crossed the street. She needed some fresh air and a distraction from her song-writing. Spring was around the corner but it was still very chilly in the big city, so she held the collar of her coat while walking through the tiny park close to her block. She started humming the melody she’d just come up with. Something just didn’t feel right yet.

Santana saw people look at her as they passed by but hoped that the big sunglasses on her face would keep them guessing of her identity. No matter how much she loved the attention from her fans, she sometimes just wanted to be normal and not have to pose for selfies every damn day.

“Hey, you!”

She sighed and stopped to turn around since she’d look like a real ass if she didn’t. She half expected to be met with a group of teenage girls with their phones ready to snap a picture, but instead she locked eyes with the girl from the diner.

“I think you dropped this.”

The girl apparently didn’t seem to recognise her thanks to the shades, and she handed her a crumbled piece of paper.

“Oh— um, thanks.” Santana gave her a tight-lipped smile. She stared back at the girl.

“I know you.” (weren’t you in a movie with my sister? lmao sorry i had to, let’s continue)

Oh, no. The girl couldn’t find out that Santana was the woman who had basically stood her up after their talk in that diner.

She let out a breathy chuckle, “Do you?”

“Yeah, you look familiar.” Something in Santana hoped that the girl recognised her for being a celebrity, not for what happened a week ago.

Y/N shamelessly looked her up and down before snapping her finger.

“Milkshake girl. I recognise your voice.”

Santana smiled awkwardly. Great, now she definitely looked like a douche.

“Sorry about that, by the way... I-”

“No need to apologise. I probably came on too strong, sorry for giving you the wrong impression. I only wanted to cheer you up.” She smiled back, “It’s a shame though, it was a great milkshake.”

Santana’s expression softened, relieved at how well the girl had taken it.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you again after that... You used to come in every few days. Is it my fault? Gunther would kill me if I lost him a customer. Wait— Don’t answer that. It’s none of my business.”

Santana smiled and removed her glasses.

“If he ever gets mad at you, just give him a box of Yeast-I-Stat. That’ll pretty much shut him up.”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “How do you-”

“I worked there for a long time when I first moved to New York.” Santana shrugged, “I was pretty desperate for any kind of job when I landed that commercial.”

“Oh my God, you’re the Yeast-I-Stat girl!? I knew I recognised you from somewhere else, too.” The girl gasped, “I like yeast in my bagel... but not in my muffin.” She mocked and laughed afterwards.

“Oh, shut up, will you?” Santana shook her head in amusement, kinda glad those days were over.

“Is that really what you know me of?”

“Yeah, what else should I know you of? Any other embarrassing first-job commercials I should know about?”

Santana was about to mention her career but stopped herself. Clean slate. She wasn’t a celebrity in her private life. Besides, she didn’t want the girl to think she was bragging.

“No... thank God.”

They looked at each other for a few seconds before smiling.

“I’m Y/N.” She held out her hand for Santana to shake.

“Santana.”

Y/N smiled at her with the most adorable smile ever. Santana didn’t miss the twinkle in her eyes.

She blinked a few times before shaking her head, “So, yeah. I should get going.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I have to go, too...”

“Bye...”

Santana waved softly as the girl turned around and walked off.

Clean slate, Santana.

✫彡

“They’re doing a Gloria Estefan night at the Spotlight Diner. We should totally go.”

“Not that I’m complaining, but that sounds out of character for the diner.” Rachel shrugged.

“I guess they finally had a cultural awakening.” Santana was mindlessly scrolling through her phone. “They’re probably too white to sing her Spanish songs though, bet they’re gonna butcher it.”

“So that’s a no for reserving us a table?” Kurt turned to the two.

“No, I wanna go.”

“Count me in, too. I love ‘Conga’.”

Santana rolled her eyes, “That’s the only song you know of her, isn’t it?”

“No...”

“Keep next Friday night free.”

✫彡

They walked in as ‘A Bailar’ by Gloria silently played over the speakers in the background. Santana scanned the room, shamelessly trying to find the girl she was looking for. Unfortunately, she was nowhere in sight.

Kurt waved his hand and one of the waitresses came to take their order. They talked a bit as they waited for their food. Every time Santana saw a girl in the red outfit walk by from the corner of her eyes, her head would shot up, only to be disappointed again when it wasn’t Y/N.

“Tana, stop ogling everyone. Your food’s getting jealous.” Rachel pointed at the untouched plate in front of her.

A few minutes later, their heads shot to the door as Y/N bursted through it. She quickly fixed her hair that was messed up by the wind and quickly tied a white apron around her waist. Gunther came from behind the counter. Though they couldn’t hear what he said, it was clear she was in trouble. He kept pointing his finger at her chest before snatching the apron off her waist and sending her into the back.

“Oh, I bet she’s on cleaning duty now. Remember when I got an hour late because I was held up at an audition?”

Kurt and Rachel started talking but Santana wasn’t paying attention.

Santana furrowed her eyebrows until she got a call from her PR manager. She declined and a few seconds after, she got a text.

Santana’s stomach sank and she froze. New relationship? Brittany had already moved on? Yet she still spent every day moping around, overthinking everything that had happened, unable to write any song that wasn’t about the blonde. Brittany was already giving someone else all her love? How was that fair? How was she even able to do that?

“Santana?”

“You alright?”

She snapped out of it and gave them a tightlipped, fake smile. There was no time for them to question her any further as Rachel let out a startled yelp when suddenly the first notes of ‘Conga’ blasted through the diner. The lights flickered and changed colour on the beat. Santana rolled her eyes, of course they’d start with that song.

Girls started dancing through the pathways and tried to hype everyone up. Kurt was shimmying along and Rachel was nodding her head to the beat, a big smile on her face. Santana tried to blend but she was busy biting her lip to stop herself from crying.

The percussion band on the little stage started playing ‘Cuba Libre’. A girl danced her way onto the stage and sang the Spanish verse. She was clearly hispanic since her pronunciation was great. Two girls started dancing on the counter and another helped someone up—Y/N.

‘Cuba Libra’ faded into the chorus of ‘Turn the Beat Around’ to which Y/N took the lead. Santana’s frown softened at seeing the girl perform, but she still couldn’t shake the thought of Brittany off.

Santana sank back into her seat and crossed her arms, wanting to go home and crawl into her bed and not leave it for the next couple of days. She hadn’t even realised that another song was already playing and that the girls were pulling people out of their seats to ‘Get on Your Feet’.

Y/N spotted Santana in the crowd and walked over to her, but Santana wouldn’t crack a smile. Y/N kept singing to her until she’d turn around. Kurt softly shook his head at the girl, telling her that she should leave Santana alone. But what he didn’t know, was that the girls already knew each other. Y/N noticed how Santana pursed her lips, not giving in to her.

Y/N grabbed her shoulders, bent down to her height and slowly made the girl turn.

She sang to her,

“Deep in your heart is the answer. Find it, I know it will pull you through. Get on your feet!”

She leaned over to grab Rachel and Kurt’s hands, helping them stand up. Almost everyone in the diner was up and dancing right now, except for Santana. Kurt gave her a look, telling her to suck it up.

“I think it's true that we've all been through some nasty weather,” Y/N turned to dance with one of her co-workers. She felt Santana look at her and walked back up to her. She danced around her. “Let's understand that we're here to handle things together.”

Y/N stuck out her tongue at Santana’s stoic expression, trying to break her. And it worked, Santana let out a soft chuckle and shook her head in amusement. Both Y/N and Kurt held out a hand for her to take. She rolled her eyes and stood up. The four of them danced together for a few seconds until Y/N walked back to the other girls. They ended the song on the stage, where everyone left but Y/N. They went back to eating their dinner as the next few songs would be slow and easy on the ears.

Y/N sat down on the stool next to the guitarist. He started playing the soft notes of ‘Wrapped’. Kurt and Rachel went back to eating their food but Santana was too mesmerised by the girl to engage in their conversation. The soft light that was shining down on her made her look like she was the only one in the room. And judging by the look on the girl’s face while she sang, she felt like she was the only one in the room too. She hadn’t once opened her eyes the first minute, she was just so indulged in the song.

A small smile made its way onto Santana’s face at the sight. She knew how good it felt to be so into a song that you could just forget the world around you— to find your corner of the sky. It was very obvious that Y/N felt at ease, even while performing in front of people. It was rare to see people be so clearly in love with what they were doing.

Santana grabbed her phone, opened Instagram and decided to film this moment. Y/N’s face wasn’t recognisable from the distance where Santana was filming from so she decided to just put it into her story. Everyone deserved to see this.

Was this positive and uplifting enough?

✫彡

‘What we know of Santana and Brittany’s breakup...’

‘Read what Brittany S Pierce has to say about her ex’

‘Santana’s social media silence over?’

‘Santana Lopez still in love or in love again?’

And many more headlines had been posted after that Friday. Santana got a lot of followers after her first post in over a year. She had also gotten a lot of hate, which was something she hadn’t missed. Brittany hadn’t said one bad word about their relationship or about Santana but for some reason she still received backlash. Brittany spoke so highly about Santana and all the questions were answered with respect. But Santana wasn’t surprised about that at all, that was just how Brittany was.

There were still people—mainly Brittany fans—who blamed Santana and made all kinds of crazy assumptions about what had happened.

“Just delete the app. You don’t need that kind of toxic energy around you.”

Y/N was filling the ketchup bottles while she sat in front of Santana.

How had this happened, you ask? One of Y/N’s coworkers had recognised her on Santana’s story and pointed it out to her. When Santana visited the diner again, Y/N had jokingly apologised about not knowing who she was before, to which Santana had replied,

“You knew who I was. You knew the real me. Not the celebrity or crazy hot girl from the Yeast-I-Stat commercials.”

After that, Santana made sure to come round when Y/N was done or only doing little chores.

Y/N loved that she got a new friend and Santana was glad that she finally had someone who she could start over with. Someone who didn’t know her from back in high school and someone who didn’t become friends with her solely for the fact that she was famous.

“I can’t. They want me to post at least once a week.” Santana groaned, “I don’t even know what to post. All I do is sleep, try to write and go here.”

They worked in silence for a few minutes until Y/N opened her mouth again.

“Why are tomatoes the slowest vegetables?”

Santana furrowed her eyebrows, giving her a look.

“No guesses? Well, they can’t ketchup.”

Santana snorted and shook her head. “Wow, okay. I’m going to pretend you didn’t just make an awful joke.”

“Yeah, you go do that while I bring these to the back.”

Santana watched her leave and sighed. The past week had been hell for Santana. She yearned for every little bit of attention from Y/N and her insides turned to mush whenever the girl smiled at her. But something held her back. She didn’t want to fall in love again. Not yet, not when she still held her high school sweetheart in her heart. But it was so hard to not stare at Y/N or freak out whenever she called her on the phone.

“Ready?”

Santana laughed at the huge guitar in Y/N’s hands. She seemed so small now.

“What’s that for?”

“You said you didn’t know what to post. You should post a little acoustic cover of that song I helped you finish last week?”

Santana looked at her, contemplating if she should agree or not.

“Can you even play?”

Y/N smiled sheepishly, “Only that song. I practiced the chords all week. But hey, if I mess up— just know that i’m willing to publicly embarrass myself just to help you out.”

Santana smiled at her in adoration. “Fine. Okay.”

They walked to the vacant stage and put Santana’s phone on the sheet music standard.

“Oh-I... I’ll scoot out of the frame if me being in it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Why would it make me uncomfortable?”

Y/N laughed, “People might assume we’re together after all the assumptions about you in the magazines. That would be weird.”

Santana’s expression faltered. “O-Oh...yeah.. it would...” She faked a smile.

Y/N started strumming the guitar.

(radio silence by naya rivera)

Santana closed her eyes as she started singing. It was clear to everyone that this song was about Brittany and she wasn’t ready yet to let them hear the whole song. It felt too personal to give it away just like that. Which is why they decided to do just a snippet.

She opened her eyes and looked at Y/N when one chord sounded terrible. You could hear Y/N giggle from behind the phone. Santana smiled wide and had a hard time singing without laughing. Y/N stuck out her tongue as she seemed focused on getting the next one right. Santana unintentionally looked at her longingly the last few notes but broke out of it when Y/N stopped playing.

✫彡

Should she be thanking the tabloids? No, never. However, she couldn’t deny that they had been the reason why Y/N had even brought it up.

“Do you like me?”

Santana widened her eyes.

“And I don’t mean as friends. I mean like-like. Do you like-like me?”

“I-uh, I-” Santana stammered.

“It would be really embarrassing if you didn’t, to be honest.”

Santana gave her a wary but panicked look.

“Because I do... like-like you, I mean.”

“Wow, wait— what?”

She opened and closed her mouth until she saw the honesty on Y/N’s face who let her statement linger in the air, hoping that Santana would say something. But the silence only heightened her nerves

“Santana-”

“I can’t... I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”

She quickly grabbed her stuff and left the diner, just like she had done the first time.

She rushed home, biting her lip to prevent the tears in her eyes from falling. The second she unlocked her front door, she let them go. Santana tried to control her sobs as she sat on the couch, holding her head in her hands.

Her safety net whenever she felt lost or emotional— Brittany — was gone, what was she supposed to do now? She let out another sob as she missed Britt’s arms holding her close.

She reached for her phone without a second thought and dialled the woman’s number. Brittany picked up after a few seconds, much to Santana’s surprise.

“Hey, um, Santana. What’s up?”

Brittany decided to break the ice, but all formalities were thrown out the window when she heard the Latina let out another sob.

“Santana, are you okay?! What’s happened? Where are you?”

Was she okay? No. But what was she supposed to tell Brittany? That it was partly because of her?

“Please, say something, Tana. I’m worried.”

Santana held the bridge of her nose and let out a big, shaky sigh.

“Please forget that I called, this was a mistake. I’m sorry for bothering you.”

She hung up. But the phone rang after a few seconds. Santana tossed it next to her on the couch and rubbed her forehead. How could she have been so stupid?

It rang again. And again, and then another three times. Santana stared at the screen long and hard before picking it up.

“Don’t shut me out, please. You know I still care about you when something’s wrong.”

Santana let out a huff and Brittany knew exactly what that meant.

“Santana, listen— I am so, so sorry for what happened. I too thought that we would be the happiest and sappiest couple forever but... some things just... happen. And I still completely understand how hard it was for you to stay friends with me without being with me and I’m so terribly sorry for that they brought you up in that interview— but I meant everything I said, Santana. You were the best thing that happened to me back then. And to me you still are my best and most incredible friend but... that’s just it.”

A long pause.

“And I kind of really miss hanging out with you and so does Lord Tubbington so if you’re comfortable with the idea, would you want to get together sometime soon? Wait— not get together-together, just... argh, you know what I mean.”

“How did you do it?” Santana broke her silence. “What changed in your mind for you to get the closure you needed? Because I never fucking got it.”

Brittany kept quiet, knowing there was more to follow.

“I have spent a whole year feeling like absolute shit, but I knew... that there was no way that we’d ever get together again. But the closure? Nope.” She furrowed her eyebrows in frustration. “And lately there’s been this incredible girl in my life and guess what? You two are fighting for first place in my head and I can’t help but want to push her out because I’m not ready to let her stay there until you are completely out of my thoughts.”

She heard Brittany let out a breath.

“Sant-”

“Oh, no, no, no. I don’t need a pity-party. I don’t-”

“Santana Lopez, listen to me.” Brittany raised her voice. “If your plan is to sabotage your own happiness, then congratulations— you’re well on your way. It’s no wonder that you’re having a hard time moving on. I mean, one— I’m a catch but two, we were together since high school, that’s a long time. We were each other’s first loves and truth be told, you never really forget those. You’ll compare every following relationship to that one, even if it was full of flaws. Truth is, you’ll never be able to move on or get the closure until you open yourself up to idea of loving someone else again. And I know how you work— you don’t ever want to open up to someone again but... if you give this girl a chance, who knows? She might be the one to change your mind. And I’ll cross my fingers she will. I hope she’ll kick me off first place like a rugby player.” Brittany snorted at her own joke.

“Because you deserve a special someone too, Santana. And if you still don’t have the closure you need... I loved you, I cared for you, and in a way I still do. But we won’t ever get together again. That ship has sailed. I want you to be happy and I want to see you flourish in every aspect of life, just... without me being your special someone. I’d still very much like to be by your side, though, but as a friend.”

Santana let the words sink in until she suddenly widened her eyes.

“I am such a fucking idiot.”

“Um... are we having the same phone call? Because I’m lost...”

“She told me she liked me and I ran out.”

“Was that metaphorically speaking or did you literally run out?”

“Like a chicken, Brittany.”

“Santana!? Be Chicken Little and run back!” Brittany exclaimed, “But watch out for the traffic, please, because that would be a tragic end to the story....and it would be animal abuse...”

Santana smiled softly, missing this side of Brittany.

“Okay, okay!” She laughed.

“Keep me posted?”

Santana hummed, “Thank you, Britt.”

“Of course. You’re still my best friend, even if we haven’t seen each other in over a year. Go get the girl.”

✫彡

Santana hesitantly walked back into the diner. It wasn’t rush hour so there were only a few people having a drink.

“See you guys tomorrow!”

Y/N walked out of the backroom and froze in her spot when she saw Santana looking at her. A tightlipped, awkward smile appeared on her face and she tried to walk passed her but Santana grabbed her hand.

“Wait, I-...I need to tell you something.”

Santana looked the girl in her eyes, seeing the anticipation and worry in them. But then she saw something else, she saw the same twinkle in her eyes when Y/N sang so beautifully that night. Only this time they were twinkling because she was looking at Santana.

She grabbed the girl’s cheek and planted a chaste kiss on Y/N’s lips. Y/N widened her eyes at first but kissed back. They parted when a bell coming from the kitchen interrupted them.

“So much for needing to tell me something...” Y/N chuckled heartily, “But I guess I got what you were trying to say.”

“You guess?” Santana shot back.

“Yeah... I’m still slightly confused...”

“How’s this?” Santana grabbed her by the waist and kissed her again. Y/N slowly tapped the girl on her chest when things started to get heated.

“Let’s keep it PG, we’ve got an audience.”

Santana bit her lip in embarrassment when she saw that all eyes were on them now.

“But your message was loud and clear this time.” Y/N whispered in her ear and gave her one of the most adorable smiles.

“Oh...” Santana let out a breathy chuckle and looked at the ground. Being nervous was so out of character for her, but whenever it came to her and relationships she was always a simp for her significant other.

“But... can we take it slow? Because-”

Y/N nodded immediately. “I know, you don’t have to tell me. We’ll take it slow.”

✫彡

Y/N sat on Santana’s bed, reading a book while the Latina was trying to write a new song for her album. She heard yet another paper being ripped apart, followed by a loud groan.

“Baby, you okay?”

Y/N bent over the couch and hugged Santana’s neck from behind, planting a kiss on her temple. Santana sighed and sat back, feeling more relaxed the second Y/N’s arms wrapped around her.

“It’s not working. I can’t seem to get my exact feelings onto paper and what I have now doesn’t even do it a little bit of justice.”

“The break-up song? Let me see-” Y/N went to reach for the notebook but Santana immediately turned around and smiled.

“You know what? I’m starving, and I want to take you out.”

“Oh— are you sure? We just had-”

“I’m sure. I need a break anyway.”

“Okay...well, let me get a jacket.”

Santana watched Y/N walk into the other room before quickly hiding the notebook behind the couch pillows again. She’d feel so embarrassed if Y/N ever read any of her love songs to her. Truth be told, ever since their first kiss in the diner, Santana had found her new muse. She had written a lot of songs since then but not one seemed to be good enough or do the girl justice. Besides, if Y/N read the lyrics to this song... Well, it would make or break their relationship and Santana wasn’t going to lose someone again.

“Let’s go.”

✫彡

“But I can tell my friends, right?”

“Baby, of course you can.”

“Sweet! I’m going to see them again next week. Can’t wait to see the look on their faces when they see you.”

“Oh, I’m... not sure if going with you is such a good idea.”

“I forgot— we’re taking things slow.” Y/N nodded to herself, “Sorry, I get too excited sometimes.”

Santana caressed the girl’s head and planted a kiss on it, “It’s okay. Soon.”

✫彡

“So, what’s been going on with you? I haven’t seen you in a few months.”

Y/N took a sip of her drink, “Well, i’m still working at the diner, that hasn’t changed. And-”

“You’re in love.”

“How-”

“I can sense it. Also, you've posted a lot of cheesy and soft quotes on your twitter so that was a dead give-away.”

“Well, yes. I’m dating someone.”

“Boy? Girl?”

“Girl, duh.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Oh my God, Y/N!” Her friend squealed, “Who is it? Show me a picture, let me approve.”

“It’s Santana Lopez.”

The two friends fell quiet.

“The famous singer?” One of them asked.

“Hun, she’s hardly famous anymore. Are we sure she still even exists?”

“Hey!” Y/N pouted. “But I’m telling you the truth. It’s Santana.”

“Real funny, she doesn’t even live in New York.”

“Uh, yeah, she does.”

“No, she doesn’t. TMZ said she moved back to Ohio after the break-up.”

Y/N shook her head, “They also said she started dating a 80 year-old billionaire and bought a pet alpaca, which I think is ridiculous. You’re too gullible.”

Her friend shrugged, “Perhaps, yeah. But hey, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell us who it really is yet.”

Y/N rolled her eyes when they switched the topic.

✫彡

“How did it go, babe? Were you happy to see them again?”

“You’re not going to believe me but they thought I was joking.”

“Joking about what?”

Y/N sat down next to Santana on the couch, immediately cuddling up to her. “Well, they didn’t believe I was dating you.”

“Why would they not believe you?”

“I think you forgot that you’re kinda famous.”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m hardly famous.”

Y/N mocked her, earning a playful punch in the shoulder from Santana but her smile soon disappeared.

“Um...”

“No bad news, please!” Y/N immediately noticed the change in Santana.

“No, no, don’t worry. I mean, I don’t think it’s bad news— it’s just... a lot...to deal with right now.”

“Just rip the bandaid off.”

Santana grabbed her phone and showed Y/N the post.

“Oh...” Y/N swiped and saw that she had been photographed as well.

“I know we said we would take things slow so I’m so sorry that the media is trying to fuck that up again.” Santana examined Y/N, who was difficult to read. “This is exactly what ruined everything last time. Fuck! Here I thought it would be different this time around. I should’ve never-”

“Santana, sshh.” Y/N grabbed her hand, trying to calm her down. “Stop thinking.”

Santana looked up like a sad puppy.

“Nothing is getting ruined again. Not on my watch.” She put the phone on the coffee table, “Let’s just ignore that. Let them start rumours, let them guess, let them make up drama but the only two people who really know the truth are you and I. It’s our life, not theirs. So no matter what they will say, I will love you unconditionally for as long as you want me to... and I will never feel differently... about you.”

Santana's head shot up, looking puzzled and panicked at the same time.

“W-Where did you get that from?”

Y/N smiled at Santana and caressed her cheek, “You need to find better hiding places, babe.”

Y/N suddenly looked worried, “Unless that song wasn’t about me... then... well, this is awkward. Just-”

“I love you.” Santana cut her off, tears in her eyes. She felt the urge to pinch herself but decided it would look silly. Was she really in love again after all that she’d been through?

“I love you too, unconditionally. And... you better make that song your first single.”

✫彡

“Guys, I’m literally in the pictures with her?!”

“Yah, but you look more like a fan of her than her girlfriend, look at you... swooning.”

“I mean, yes, I adore everything she does...”

Y/N’s friend leaned over and smiled, “So you’re really dating the Santana Lopez?”

“I mean, I sure hope she does...” Santana walked up to their table in the little cafe, startling Y/N’s friends while the girl just looked at them with a smirk on her face. Finally.

Santana sat down next to her and gave her girlfriend a kiss before turning back to the two friends sitting in front of them.

“Is that enough proof or do you need me to bend her o-”

“That’s enough!” Y/N gave Santana a playful slap across the head.

“Oh my God, no!” Y/N’s friend exclaimed, “Speak for yourself! Imagine the money I’d make with a tape of that! I’d finally be the rich bitch I’ve always been deep down.”

Y/n rolled her eyes at him and it earned a laugh from Santana, “I like you.”

“Why, muchas gracias.”

“Wow, thanks for completely taking my spotlight. Hi, i’m her best friend, he’s just our accessory.”

“Excuse me?!”

Y/N shook her head at the two of them.

“Are you regretting you came along?” Y/N turned to her girlfriend.

“We wouldn’t judge you if you said yes, to be honest.” Her friend laughed.

Santana smiled at them, “No, it’s been a while since I met new people and you two seem fun and well, you mean a lot to this one over here so I’m happy to be here.”

Y/N snuggled up to Santana and put her head on her shoulder.

“Alright, go and make me jealous. It’s fine.”

“Shut up! Now tell us how you two met, please!”

✫彡

Santana couldn’t stop playing with her fingers and the bracelets on her wrist as the hours passed. Only a few more minutes now until her new song ‘My Unconditional Love’ would go online, for the world to hear. There had been a lot of speculations about the two women the past few months, but they had tried to be more discreet when they were outside. Much to the dismay of the paparazzi and tabloids. This song would basically be a dead give away to their relationship but she didn’t care. This song already meant so much to her and Santana hoped she could write plenty more songs like these about Y/N.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

Y/N’s voice interrupted her thinking.

“Wh- No, never! It’s probably my favourite song I ever wrote... it’s just... nerve-wracking, is all.”

“C’mere.”

Santana walked into Y/N’s open arms and let out a big sigh at the feeling of her arms around her.

“You’ve come a long way and I am so proud of you... but most of all, I’m happy to be on this ride with you. I know this song will point a lot of fingers to us dating but hey, like we said before— no one needs to know but us and our friends and families. Capiche?”

Santana nodded and grabbed the girl’s cheeks, “I’m so happy with you.”

They both beamed from ear to ear until the bell rang. Santana opened the door.

“I’m so excited!” Kurt squealed and dragged Rachel along inside.

“It’s time, guys!” Y/N sang as she appeared from the kitchen, trying to balance a tray with four champagne glasses on it.

“Hook your phone up to the speakers!” Rachel grabbed a glass. Santana’s new song started playing which earned raised eyebrows from the three others.

“This isn’t the same song you sent me?!” Kurt exclaimed.

“No, it is. It’s just not the slow version. I’m keeping that version for us.” Santana grabbed Y/N’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “It felt too special to share.”

“Well, damn, I’m digging this one, too!”

They started dancing together to the upbeat song. Y/N kept staring at Santana, who seemed too excited and happy to notice.

Her unconditional love.

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