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#i don’t work weekends anymore so i’m so excited i don’t need to lose money to comfortably indulge in my obsession LOL
akkivee · 9 months
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got caught up on the announcements from the hangout stream and you mean to tell me we’re getting 150min with the majority of the hypmic seiyuu where we get new news aaaand a karaoke battle??????
which maybe means the seiyuu might be singing other characters’ songs?????? that’s so hype?????
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CBS Ghosts - Pilot - Sam & Jay Fight
Warning Possible Spoilers.
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LMAO - Jay just wants to have a shower - I feel that. I'd be upset if I couldn't since it wakes me up.
Side note - I’m amused that Sam is writing her article (I assume) on the ladder.  
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Two things are interesting here - they originally decided to go to the Woodstone for the weekend, so we’ve lost a whole day unless they only came up Saturday to Sunday.  
Also, interesting - Sam has clearly already decided on living at the mansion (probably before they ever got there) while Jay is far more practical about moving into a rundown old house.  
I definitely wonder if her quick acceptance had to deal with being miserable in the city?  (I assume she was by later comments, like ‘we barely saw each other”, “we worked so much - never home”, Ect.)  
She also blends into the country life way easier than Jay does into the mansion and I don’t believe that it’s solely due to the ghosts - she never mentions the city life, friends or missing anything about it in the way that Jay clearly does. She never mentions wanting to visit the city or complaining that seeing ghosts doesn't allow her to do it as easily anymore.
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Okay - so, this is funny.  Jay’s like “I’m going to say it - mumbles”.  
Jay, that is just not how this works!  Also, did Sam not expect to have this conversation?  She sounds surprised even though that is literally what they agreed to do.  It was MEANT to be a visit to evaluate and discuss, but she acts like they already did.
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Okay - multiple things here - AGAIN it’s the 4 OLDEST ghosts that have chosen to watch Sam & Jay.  Now, is it because they’re worried about losing their free rein of the house?  (They were the most concerned about new comers).  Is it because they’re very bored?  But then, wouldn’t the others be bored, too? Is there another reason?
We know that Trevor & Pete are having a war with the Vase, but what about Flower & Alberta?  Why aren’t they invested in their possible new livings?
Also, they’re all excited that Jay’s saying “Damn it, I don’t want to uproot our entire lives” - is this exciting because ‘nothing better than a husband/wife fight’ or is it because they’re like - maybe our lives won't change after all?  
Lastly, THE LOOKS ON THEIR FACES when Thor compares it to ‘Finding a new type of cod’ - OMG.  It’s freaking hilarious.  I love it. We should get to see flashbacks of their lives without Sam and Jay.
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Okay.  Sam, I need you to listen to me - this isn’t about ‘Change’ - it’s beyond crazy to uproot your lives on a dime and take out all of the money to RISK losing everything.  Yes, change is scary, but you didn’t answer the question - and you definitely decided that you wanted to move before you ever saw the house.
I wish they had let Jay truly explain what the issue is - it’s more than being afraid to change - this isn’t just changing jobs, moving someplace or having a baby, this is quitting your jobs and suddenly deciding to open a business on a dime.  It’s kind of insane.  
Plus, you're leaving everything you've ever known behind and all of your friends behind to be completely alone out in the country.
I wonder if the friends they had were only Jay's friends and that's why she's so game to just ... leave them behind.
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LOL, Isaac.  He’s just like so smitten - Jay was not even trying to be funny.  I do love that Sass is giving Isaac a look like ‘who you kidding’, Thor doesn’t care, and Hetty’s smiling - given the story in Whodunnit, do we think Hetty realizes what’s going on with Isaac?  
She could technically believe he’s into both (or be hopeful) given what happens in Thorapy.  It is believable since she knows that he was once married.
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This is the EXACT moment Hetty decides that she likes Sam despite her ‘hideous pants and saucy hairdo’.  She’s like “Woodstone - connection - Family, love it.”
It does explain her reaction later on (at the end of the episode) when she originally opted haunt them out of the house and get rid of her.
However, it doesn't explain her reaction in the episode and wanting her to leave again.
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LMAO - Sass is like “Our home sucks” and Hetty’s like “Damn it - give the house more respect”.  It’s a funny exchange.
ANYWHO - Jay is absolutely right.  They were barely surviving in NYC and NOW you want to dump money you don’t have in house out in the middle of nowhere?  Nah.  That’s nutty.
Side note - Sam & Jay want to start a family and in TB, he calls the ghosts their 8 idiot kids and I have to wonder WHEN exactly they decided on that and how that factors into having their own family. I do wonder if it is part of the reason that Sam and Jay do quickly adapt to having the ghosts and wanting to do the B&B and all. If that makes sense?
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THIS IS AN EXCELLENT POINT JAY!  When you become a couple you should make decisions JOINTLY!  This is WAY too crazy an idea to give into on a whim - you could at least take more time to decide!
Maybe talk it over with Jay's parents or your friends. Don't just DO IT.
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WHAT EVEN IS THIS???? Like Sam - this makes no sense.  Jay’s right, she’s learned nothing.  OTOH this is apparently what she does - storm out.  Which is interesting.  Also interesting, having this discussion naked in a bathrobe.
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Awww, Hetty’s watching her storm out - probably surprised, she never would have considered doing that with Elias because she didn’t have the power Sam has in the 21st century in the 19th century, but also, she just seemed to warm up to Sam (because she wants to raise a family in the family home), so she’s like ‘now I'm going to lose her’.  
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LMAO - what an ending to the scene.  Thor’s probably thinking ‘damnit no sex show’ and laughing because Jay won’t be getting sex, while hurting Isaac who’s like ‘Damn it man’.  Sass just rolling his eyes.  ‘Ya’ll are idiots’.  
Anyway, that’s it for this scene - I agree with Jay (he’s being the logical/rational side - which he ruins at the end of the episode) while Sam’s being the emotional/irrational side, which ironically changes at the end of the episode.  
Obviously there would be NO show without Jay caving, but he isn’t wrong for his perspective on things.  I do wonder just how miserable Sam was in NYC to make this drastic of a change in the blink of an eye.
Thanks for reading :)
Feel free to Chat :)
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arianatwycross · 2 years
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Sand
Because of the amount of love I recieved from my first attempt at wolfstar (read Insult here) here's a part 2! using @wolfstarmicrofic prompt 'sand' this time
“What do you mean?” James asks again, still baffled by Sirius’ reasoning. 
Sirius huffs, “We can’t go to the beach anymore, because Remus doesn’t like sand.”
James pulls a face, making Sirius sigh heavily, “Just cancel the reservation.”
“I can’t cancel, the booking is for tomorrow. We would lose our money.”
“James, we’re rich. It doesn’t matter.”
“Lily wants to go, so we’re going.”
----------
It was Sirius’ and Remus’ first holiday together. Their first weekend getaway as a couple, and the weekend Sirius wanted to tell Remus he loved him. 
It had only been three months. But it was three months, of going on impromptu dates at cafes down the road from the hospital Remus worked at, nights where Sirius came back from late training sessions to end up talking for hours on the phone to Remus while he soaked in the tub, indulgent kisses, earth-shattering sex and ultimately Sirius falling very much in love. 
Sirius had never been in love before, he always thought his one true love would be football. Remus proved that wrong. 
Falling in love with an emergency Doctor wasn’t easy, and Remus would probably attest that dating a world famous footballer wasn’t easy either but neither of them wouldn’t have it anyother way. 
“So where are you taking me?” Remus asks over the phone. Sirius can hear the tell tale beeping of hospital monitors in the background and the chatter of what sounded like Remus’ intern, Mary. 
“Oh, um. Well I was thinking we could just stay home?” Sirius tries. 
There’s an awkward silence on the other end, he hears Mary whisper something, Remus mumbles something indeciphable back.
“Are you busy? I can call you later.” Sirius offers. 
“Oh no. It’s- It’s just I thought we were going away?” 
Remus’ sounds so forlorn that Sirius ends up hitting his palm to his head, the resultant loud smack rises James from his slumber on the couch, a questioning arch of his brow, Sirius shakes his head and mimes locking his lips. 
“We were- we are! Nevermind.” 
“Sirius?” Remus prods. 
“Yeah?” 
“Lily already told me we were going to Cornwall…” 
The innocent guilt in Remus’ tone makes Sirus smile goofy - earning a flying pillow to his head from James. Shoving his middle finger up at his best mate (as James mocks his goofy, love-sick smile), he turns around and heads for his room.
“Oh, well - I - uh wanted it to be a surprise.” Sirius offers lamly. 
Sirius isn’t one for lying, so Remus see’s through it straight away.
“Sirius…” he warns, his voice low and deep. It rattles something in Sirius’ chest, making him collapse on his bed with a resounding sigh. 
“I’m sorry. It’s just you mentioned you hated sand and the beach and I was trying to get James to cancel and see if we could go somewhere else - but its too late and apparently Lily is just ‘so excited’ to go to the beach...”
Remus interrupts, “Babe, I like Cornwall. There’s more than just sand there.”
“But you said you hated sand! Hated how it lived in your shoes for months after, how it makes you itchy and you felt like you need ten baths after spending just ten minutes there!” 
A sigh, “You remember everything I tell you, don’t you?” 
“Yeah?” Sirius has no idea what’s wrong with that.
“How about we go to Cornwall, I watch you sunbathe topless on the beach, I bring my book and sit as still as I can and then when we got back to the air bnb, we can have an entirely too-long bath together?”
“Oh.” SIriu replies,leaning up from his slump on his bed. 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” Sirius smiles goofily again, “I like that idea.” 
“Me too.” He hears the smile in Remus’ voice and has to hold his palm to his cheek to relax his jaw. If he keeps smiling this much, he might just admit his love for this selfless man over the phone, eight hours into Remus’ longest shift that week. 
“Oi!” James interrupts from the other room, making Sirius snap out of his lovesick day dreaming and groan in frustration. 
“WHAT!” Sirius yells. 
“Lily just told me that Remus already knows we’re going to Cornwall…”James hisses in a stage whisper as he stands in Sirius’ doorframe. 
Sirius glares at his best mate. 
“What?” James asks innocently. 
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bobohu4eva · 4 years
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Pink Lace - Chapter 2
Characters: Baekhyun x Reader
Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn
Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.
Word count: 6.2k
Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut
Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banan @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey​ @deligxt​ 
Masterlist
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“God I’m so fucking sick of this semester and it hasn’t even started yet.” You complained, lying on your roommates bed flipping through one of your textbooks for the upcoming semester.
“Relax, at least you have money and you’re smart y/n, you’ll be fine.”
“Easy for you to say, you’re an arts major, not an architecture student.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
“Nothing! It’s just different!”
“Mhm sure I’d love to see you paint a landscape or sculpt something.”
You gave your best friend a dirty look before focusing your attention back to the textbook.
Mia had been your best friend since 2nd grade and she had lived with you since you were 18. She had always been the more artistic one, doing dance from a young age and taking all sorts of art classes whenever she could. Her overall view on life was quite different from yours. She saw the world through the lens of an artist, and an optimist. 
Her views on relationships were very different from yours as well, with quite the laundry list of exes, each one more thrilling than the last. You honestly loved hearing all her stories and found it impressive how well she seemed to have the dating game figured out. You on the other hand, could count the men you’d slept with on one hand, and aren’t one for parties or anything like that, preferring to stay home and study or watch a drama.
With your dislike for parties and dating apps, you stayed pretty single. Not that you minded, being too swamped with schoolwork to make time for a real boyfriend anyway. Sometimes you thought about going out to parties and trying to find yourself a hookup but you never followed through, not wanting that kind of intimacy with a stranger.
“Did you see Baekhyun again last night?” She asked casually, knowing all about your work. Although for her, asking if he was there really meant ‘are you going to buy me my lunches again this week’.
“Yeah...” You contemplated for a second if you should tell her, but you quickly decided to just say it, not wanting to keep things from your best friend. “I told him my name. Like my real name.”
Her eyes went wide, definitely surprised by your confession. “Wait seriously? Why?”
“He asked and I just couldn’t tell him no.” You replied, much quieter now.
“Well it’s your choice but that really wasn’t a good idea, he’s already way too into you and now he’s just gonna think he actually has a shot with you.”
“Yeah I know I just.. I can’t explain it but it felt different.”
“He’s just another pervy dude who wants tits in his face! There’s a reason he pays you.” 
“He’s not a perv! He’s still a guy of course, but he’s sweet.” You felt a twinge of embarrassment at how quick you were to defend him. 
“All that matters about this guy is that he gives you nearly a thousand dollars every night he sees you, right?” You nodded. “You don’t want him thinking he doesn’t have to pay you anymore do you?”
You stayed quiet, because you knew she was right. This was the nature of your relationship with Baekhyun, and straying from what you had with him now just meant opening yourself up to the possibility of losing a lot of money, money you needed.
You were kind of surprised by how opposite you and Mia seemed to be in this situation. Usually it was you talking to her about boys, telling her not to make reckless decisions.
“Yeah you’re right. I’m gonna go to bed. I have classes starting pretty early tomorrow.” You told her as you left her room for yours.
You needed to sleep, but your conversation with her left you with the same uneasy feeling you’d had after last seeing Baekhyun. The longer you stared at your ceiling, the more you felt like you did the right thing telling him your name. He really liked you and it probably made his day, and you knew he wouldn’t use it against you in any way. He was too nice for that.  What’s the worst that could happen, right?
~
The first few classes of the day had gone okay. Your physics and statics professors didn’t seem like complete assholes, and you only had one class left for the day, philosophy. Part of you was annoyed you even needed to take the class, since you wouldn’t exactly consider yourself a very “deep” person, but you figured it would be easy enough.
Being the good student you are, you decided to get there early to get a seat close to the front to make a good impression on the professor. When you arrived the previous class hadn’t finished yet, so you sat down on a bench nearby and opened a book.
“Hey, are you waiting for philosophy class too?”
You looked up to see a rather cute boy, books in hand, looking down at you with a smile on his face.
“Yeah, do I know you?”
“I’m Lucas.” He sticks his hand out for you to shake, so you do and he sits down next to you. “Are you a philosophy major?”
“No, architecture. And I’m y/n.”
“Damn you must be really smart then! I’m a business major.”
“You also just have to take this for the humanities credit?”
“Yeah, but I’m excited, the professor seems cool I met him earlier today.”
“Really? What’s he like?”
“Super cool and smart, kind of young, but like a genius.”
“Yeah well hopefully he’s nice too. Especially with grading”
Lucas laughed and you noticed the previous class leaving the lecture hall so you got up and made your way in, sitting down in the second row, Lucas sitting down next to you. The professor hadn’t showed up yet so you turned to Lucas again, making small talk to pass the time. As you talked to him you realized he was actually fairly funny, although not the smartest. You had to admit though, he was pretty damn handsome. He had to be an entire foot taller than you, with beautifully tanned skin and a smile that would make any girl weak in the knees. 
“Are you going to any parties this weekend? I’m going to one at my buddies frat Friday night if you wanna be my date.”
You frowned “Sorry, I don’t really do parties.”
You could see the disappointment on his face. “Damn really? Well if ever change your mind you can text me.” He said as he scribbled something down and slid a piece of paper with his number on it across the table to you.
You internally cringed, but took the paper anyway and give him a small thank you. You weren’t lying when you said you didn’t do parties, but you still felt bad shooting him down, especially since he was actually pretty cute. That was the problem with you and dating in college. No matter how cute a guy was, what they wanted and what you wanted rarely added up well.
You’d bought your textbook already so you decide to get back to looking through it before class started. You also just wanted an excuse to stop talking to Lucas. You got lost in the book, finding yourself surprisingly interested in different moral theories and types of ethical arguments.
“Ahem.”
You heard who you assumed to be your professor and looked up, not expecting to see Baekhyun of all people smirking back at you. Fucking smirking.
You almost choked on air when you realized who you were looking at. Not only was it Baekhyun of all people standing in front of you, but he was wearing a fitted white button down and slacks with his hair styled out of his face, and glasses abandoned on his podium. He looked hot. You felt your face getting warmer and warmer.
“Hey you ok?” Lucas asked, having seen your reaction to Professor Byun.
“What? Yeah I’m totally fine why wouldn’t I be?” You responded, too loudly. Loudly enough that Baekhyun noticed. And laughed.
“Do you guys know each other or something?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” You told him while giving Baekhyun your best version of a death stare, but he didn’t seem to care.
“Hello everyone I’m Mr. Byun, I’ll be your philosophies of life professor.” He said, starting the lecture with a fairly neutral look on his face, although you noticed him looking in your direction often, and smiling.
You had to admit, he was smart. Not that you were particularly surprised, he seemed fairly intelligent from the conversations you’d had with him at work, but granted those weren’t always the most intellectual conversations either. The way he explained what you had read in the book was both interesting and informative, but you couldn’t focus on him talk about Socrates when just two days earlier you had been grinding on him, and had even let him touch you. Especially when he looked like that now. Your whole body felt hot and you knew you were probably as red as a tomato. 
You tried your best to focus on what he was saying for the sake of your grade, but he wasn’t making it easier by the way he kept looking in your direction with that smile on his face. Now, often looking you directly in the eyes with the same intensity from the club. Only this time, while sounding incredibly, frustratingly, smart.
As much as you tried, you couldn’t focus. Not when you had to process the fact that Baekhyun was now your college professor, and knew way more about you and your life than you ever wanted him to. You were hit with the realization that he now also knew you’d lied to him about nearly everything.
You became painfully aware of how you looked compared to him. While he looked exquisite in his business-casual attire, you had barely rolled out of bed in time to throw your hair up in a messy top knot and apply some mascara. Your hoodie and leggings combo wasn’t your best either, and you started feeling more and more embarrassed by the second.
Every other time Baekhyun had seen you, you had been dressed in expensive lingerie with your hair and makeup done perfectly. You had always been the one in control of the situation. Now, you only felt small and underdressed.
After what felt like hours he finally ended the lecture. But he wasn’t done yet, not with you at least. And you could tell by the way he was staring at you, smile now gone and replaced with a much more serious  expression. As soon as he dismissed everyone to leave, you frantically started shoving your things in your bag, trying to get out of the room as quickly as possible but your hands were shaking so badly that you ended up fumbling and dropping most of what you’d been holding.
“Shit, shit, shit” you whispered to yourself as you desperately reached for your belongings, feeling Baekhyun’s eyes on you, but it was too late and right after you saw the last student leave the lecture hall, you heard your name.
“Y/n come here.”
Not really having the option to say no, you walked up to him, trying to look as annoyed as possible.
“You look cute like this, without the heels and everything. I like it.” He said, now smiling down at you. Despite the mocking feeling of the statement, his face was soft now, the smug smirk from earlier gone.
Baekhyun was absolutely thrilled. The girl he usually looked forward to seeing all week long was right in front of him now, within reach. And he’d get to you see you much more now as well. He had to keep himself from looking too happy since he knew you weren’t in nearly as good a mood as him.  
You’d never wanted to disappear as badly as you did in that moment. Here, Baekhyun was the one with all the power, and you despised it. He was the one all dressed up and making all the rules. You felt small and embarrassed, having little choice but to listen to whatever it is was he had to say to you. You hated the feeling.
“What do you want?”
“You lied to me.” His face didn’t look angry at all, just blank, void of any emotion.
“Why are you making me do this can I please just leave?” You asked, hoping he’d have some sympathy but you have no such luck.
No answer
“Baekhyun, please. Just let me go home and switch into a different section.” You look at him with pleading eyes, wanting this nightmare to be over.
His face hardened, now slightly annoyed.
“Professor Byun, and I’m afraid you’re stuck with me y/n. I’m the only one teaching this class this semester.”
“Well, fuck” You muttered, looking down at the floor. 
“Is that how you speak to your professors?” 
Your head snapped back up, and you narrowed your eyes at him.
“You know, y/n, I’m not mad that you lied to me. I should’ve assumed as much. After you told me your name and I saw it on the attendance sheet I had been hoping you’d been lying.” He still looked annoyed, but his face had softened a bit. 
“Oh fuck off Baekhyun”
Immediately his expression went sour again, jaw clenched and brown furrowed.
“Here it’s Mr. Byun. And don’t use that language with me again, I’m serious.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“What do you mean? I didn’t know you’d be here. It was just yesterday that I even realized your name was on my roll sheet.” 
He had a point. He couldn’t have planned this, you’d signed up for the class months ago and he didn’t even know your name until two nights ago.
“Why aren’t you freaking out then? Shouldn’t you be worried about having me in your class?”
He only let out a chuckle.
“Why would I be worried? As far as I’m concerned this only means I get to see you more often, which I’m fine with. And you need to pass this class to graduate on time, so shouldn’t you be glad you’re already friends with your professor?”
You knew it wasn’t what he intended, but the smile on his face felt like it was mocking you.
“Yeah. Friends.” You scoffed. “Can I go home now?”
“So this is your last class of the day?”
You internally cursed yourself for giving up that bit of information.
“Yeah. Now can I leave?”
“Well you’re not in a hurry are you? Since you don’t have anywhere to be after this.”
“Baekhyuuun” you whined “please, this sucks, just let me go home.”
He smiled, seemingly amused by you begging him.
“Okay. I’m not gonna make you stay any longer since you obviously don’t want to. But let me make it clear, I’m not gonna go easy on you here just because I like you. You still have to try.”
“Okay, that’s fine.” You reply, picking your bag up to leave, wondering what exactly he meant by like you. 
“I’m really looking forward to reading your essays by the way.”
He flashed you a smile as you finally turned to leave, and you hated yourself for not doing a better job at looking mad. As much as you hated to admit it, he had a damn beautiful smile.
“See you on Wednesday!” He shouted after you as you left the room. You didn’t respond.
When you arrived back at your apartment your mind started to fill with panicked thoughts. He wouldn’t come to the club anymore now would he? That meant having to try to mingle with strangers again, something you hated about your work. It also meant less money. It’s not often that customers bought hour long dances.
And what if he did show up again? How would you even act around him? Part of you wanted him to for the easy money, but you just couldn’t imagine grinding on your professor. Your face heated up just at the thought, especially since you knew he could look that good now. Would you even be able to give him a lap dance without losing your own mind?
You had trouble processing the fact that this was even able to happen. You’d  never thought to ask Baekhyun for his last name, and since it had been summer break he didn’t mention his job. The whole situation seemed bizarre. 
And what about class? Will he make it more difficult if he doesn’t get what he wants? 
No. Baekhyun isn’t like that, you tell yourself. As much as you disliked having him in a position of power over you, you’d gotten to know him well enough to know that he wouldn’t abuse it.
The more you’d gotten to know him the more you liked spending time with him rather than other customers, regardless of the money. And for good reason. The longer you knew Baekhyun, the more you realized he wasn’t like the other guys who came to the club. You could tell he was good, decent guy.
He was always there to see you, and only you. You had several other regulars, but none of them had any qualms about talking to and getting dances from other girls. Not that you minded, but you’d never seen Baekhyun even speak to another dancer.
He’s also just nice. The kind of nice that you don’t see in people often anymore. He was always incredibly respectful and would never do anything you weren’t comfortable with. Very few of the guys you came in contact with cared at all if they made you uncomfortable. They’d just assume that’s a part of the job for you.
Baekhyun was actually interesting to talk to as well. Since you’d met him at the beginning of summer, he usually told you about adventures he went on with his friends, most of whom you knew from the night they’d dragged him into the club.
They were a genuinely cool group of people. The one he was closest with, Chanyeol, was a music producer, another named Kyungsoo was an up and coming actor, and the one who’d introduced himself as Jongin was a professional dancer. Chanyeol had been the one to come with the idea of taking Baekhyun to the club in the first place. 
Baekhyun would tell you anecdotes from nights out he’d had with them during college, as well as other wild stories and you’d often find yourself laughing and smiling so hard your face hurt. Ever since your first night with him, you noticed how good he was at making the people around him feel at ease. He always knew what to say and when to make people laugh. 
Baekhyun was different from the other men at work because you liked being around him. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t find him attractive either. If you’d met him anywhere else, and he wasn’t your professor, you’d probably be more than willing to go on a date with him. 
But unfortunately that wasn’t the case.
You tore yourself out of your thoughts and realized how late it had gotten. Although it was only the first day, you already had homework you needed to start on. You spent the rest of the evening trying to be productive, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Baekhyun. How good he had looked, how attractive he sounded giving the lecture, how he wouldn’t stop looking at you. 
He was going to be much more present in your life now, whether you liked it or not.
                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wednesday morning Baekhyun felt stupid for how excited he was to see you. He’d decided to get up early to work some exercise into his day, and hopefully clear his mind, but even as he took a shower and started getting ready to leave for work, he couldn’t get you out of his head. He’d decided to wear something a bit more casual and stylish, opting for a new pair of glasses, striped red t shirt, and cream slacks. He tried to make other excuses for why he wanted to look nice but in the back of his mind, he knew he wore it because he wanted to look good in front of you.
During the class before yours he noticed a female student in the first row chewing on the back of her pencil as she very intentionally leaned over her desk to grab a pen, putting her cleavage on display to him.
He only rolled his eyes, but he was pleased to see that his outfit was getting good reactions. He just hoped you’d like it.
When the class before yours left, Baekhyun felt his heart rate go up. What if you’d found a way to get out of his class? Would you even show up? Or if you did, would you just end up sitting as far from him as possible?
Usually he’d leave to go get a coffee during his break between giving lectures, but today he stayed in case you came early again. As the minutes went by students started to fill the lecture hall. Baekhyun couldn’t help but keep his eyes fixed on the door every time he heard it open, but he just kept seeing everyone but you. 
A minute before class started, you walked in and sat down in the second to last row.
Baekhyun felt his face light up as soon as saw you, only to immediately turn into a frown when he saw where you chose to sit down. It was as he’d suspected, you wanted to be as far away from his as possible. But at least you were there.
As Baekhyun started the lecture, he couldn’t help looking in your direction every few seconds. Even though you were in casual clothes without any fancy hairstyle or makeup, this was the version of you Baekhyun loved seeing the most. He was used to the perfected product you presented yourself as at your job, and he knew that wasn’t the real you. This was. You in leggings and a t shirt, your hair messily falling over your shoulders as you scribbled down notes. He could watch you like this all day. He noticed how your brows would furrow in confusion whenever he’d bring up a new concept, and how you chewed on your bottom lip when you were concentrating. Ever since he’d seen you like this on Monday, he couldn’t get enough. It was you, the real you.
He also noticed how you seemed to look everywhere in the room except for at him. You spent as much time as possible with your head down taking notes, even when there wasn’t much to write down. Other times your eyes would stay glued to the power point slides, or wander around the walls and ceilings. He understood why you weren’t exactly comfortable looking at him.
Despite being on the other side of the room, he was still able to pick up on little things. He noticed your leg bouncing, fingers tapping on the desk, and how much you would fidget when you weren’t writing notes.
He knew you were uncomfortable, and he hated it. He hated himself for being the reason. He wished there was something he could do or say that would make you enjoy being in his class more. Anything that would make you feel more at ease with him in this situation. If he wasn’t the only one teaching the class he wouldn’t have minded if you’d switched to a different professor, if it meant you were more comfortable. Of course he would’ve missed seeing you, but he also knew that was a selfish thought. He felt guilty that you had to be there and be uncomfortable because of him.
At the end of the lecture he gave the class their first proper assignment, a short essay analyzing Plato's “The Ring of Gyges”. It was an assignment he always gave at the very beginning of the semester, since it was a quite difficult read and gave him a good idea of how everyone would do in the class.
He was especially excited to see how you would do.
When class ended, you were the first one to leave and this time he didn’t stop you. He knew you wanted to leave and didn’t want to bother you again, still feeling slightly sorry for how late he’d kept you the first day. He’d only done it to try to reassure you about having him as your professor, but he hadn’t been expecting you to be as distressed about it as you were. In hindsight he realized he’d probably only made things more stressful for you.
Once the room was empty aside from him he packed up his things and left as well, hoping that you could become less anxious over time, and eventually, maybe even enjoy being in his class.
For now though, class had not been something for you to look forward to at all. You’d been dreading it ever since Monday afternoon.
That morning as you were getting ready, you tried to make yourself look a bit more presentable than you’d looked Monday, not wanting to live through the embarrassment of seeing Baekhyun look so nice while you were basically wearing pajamas again.
For the first half of your day you threw yourself into your other class work, successfully taking him off your mind for a while, but when your physics class ended and your next class was with him you felt yourself starting to panic.
You thought about skipping class, but you cared too much about your grade. You decided your best choice was to just get there as late as possible and sit as close to the door as you could so he wouldn’t be able to get you to stay after class again.
As you walked across campus you felt yourself get more and more nervous. Despite being there 20 minutes early and the room being open to sit down in, you sat down outside. As the minutes drew closer to class starting you felt your heart start to race and had trouble controlling your breathing. One minute before class was to start you got up, walked over to the door, and took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down a bit. You pushed open the door with shaky hands, and the second you could see into the room you notice Baekhyun's eyes on you, and his beautiful smile. You quickly looked down and hurried to the closest available seat in the back of the room, cringing at yourself.
As much as you wished you could, you couldn’t just ignore Baekhyun. He was the professor, you had to listen to him. But you had a hard time doing anything when he looked like he did. His shirt showed off his broad shoulders and he was wearing different glasses now too. He looked even better than he had on Monday. Had it not been for you already knowing him, you probably would’ve found him distracting for different reasons. You did everything you could not to look at him directly, knowing he’d catch you and see you blush. But who wouldn’t blush if he was staring at them while looking like that? You could tell some of the other girls in the class liked his outfit as well by the way they whispered to each other while shooting glances his way.
You wondered if maybe this was something he did often, if he liked starting things with students. If maybe his whole nice guy persona was fake and he really was just another scumbag.
But you soon realized that was just the bitterness speaking. You wouldn’t admit it to yourself but the thought of other girls trying to seduce him was bothering you. Baekhyun wasn’t a scumbag, not when he’d dedicated his life to teaching people about ethical issues and moral arguments.
As the class went on you couldn’t help but fidget and shift around in your seat. Even though you were avoiding looking at him, you knew his eyes were on you for much of the lecture. You’d figured it would be like this.
As it got closer and closer to the end of class you felt yourself get more and more panicked at the thought of him keeping you after again. You didn’t know what he could possibly keep you after for, but you didn’t want to stick around and find out, so as soon as he dismissed the class you nearly ran out without looking back.
“Hey, y/n!”
The sound of your name nearly gave you a heart attack, thinking it was Baekhyun who was going to force you to talk to him like this again but when you saw Lucas waving at you, you let out a relieved sigh.
“Hi Lucas.”
“I thought you’d come sit by me again today what happened?” He asked.
“Sorry about that, I was almost late today so I didn’t want to walk out there in front of the whole class” you said, hoping he wouldn’t see through your lie.
“Well I hope next time you’ll sit with me again.”
You managed to give him a small smile and nod, still a bit too frazzled over everything to want to talk to him.
“I have to get home, but I’ll se you Friday. Bye Lucas.” You waved at him as you went in the opposite direction.
You felt bad for not talking to him any longer, but you just weren’t in the right headspace.
On your walk home you felt weird. Had it really been that bad? Or were you just overreacting? Although he did look at you a lot Baekhyun seemed to teach the class as if everything was normal, more or less unaffected by your presence. He hadn’t seemed to mind your leaving either. Maybe he’d hadn’t planned to make you stay again. Maybe, it seemed, he was going to leave you be.
You knew Lucas would bother you about it if you didn’t sit with him again next time, but would you be okay to sit that close to the front again? Or even worse what if Lucas caught on that there was something going on between you and Baekhyun? He’d already seemed suspicious on the first day.
You decided your best course of action was to just do it and tough it out. All you needed to do was act like you did in all your other classes and everything would be fine right?
First however, you had to go home and face your roommate and tell her about this nightmare, having bottled it up until now. You weren’t exactly sure why you hadn’t told her right away. Maybe you felt strange about it since she had already told you you needed to keep him from getting any closer to you. Obviously that wasn’t going to be easy now.
As soon as you got home and put your things away you knocked on her door.
“YEAH?” You heard her yell through the door.
“Can I come in?”
“One second!”
A little while later the door opened.
“What’s up?”
“Can we have a girls night? I have some shit I need to tell you.”
You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Mia look so excited.
“You?? Have tea for ME??? Fuck yes!”
You thought about it, and this was pretty rare. 90% of the time she was the one unloading her boy problems on you, or any other kind of drama too for that matter. Not that you minded, that was just the dynamic you had gotten used to.
“Wanna order some food and put on a movie?” You asked.
“Sure.”
Your food eventually arrived and you put on a chick flick you’ve both seen a thousand times.
“So?? Are you gonna tell me what’s going on or what?” She asked turning to you, obviously looking forward to whatever you were about to fill her in on.
You sighed.
“So my philosophy professor this semester...” You swallowed, now having trouble getting yourself to say it.
“I know this sounds fucking insane but, Baekhyun’s my philosophy professor.”
The look on her face told you everything you need to know. The two of you had known each other for so long that words weren’t needed.
“I don’t know how it happened either. I signed up for the class forever ago anyway, before I even met him at the club. Just a bizarre coincidence. And he’s the only one teaching it and I need the credit to graduate so I'm stuck.”
“Shit dude.”
“Yeah I know. He kept me after class Monday and it was a fucking nightmare.”
“What did he say?”
“Basically just that I’m stuck with him. He also called me out for lying about what university I go to at work. And he said he liked me better ‘like this’ whatever the hell that means”
“He’s like obsessed with you isn’t he? He’s probably over the moon that he has a way into your personal life now which really fucking sucks for you.” She had a point. “Do you think he’ll still come see you at work?”
“I honestly really don’t wanna think about that right now.”
“Be careful, y/n. A customer having a crush on you is one thing but having him in charge of your grade is another. What if he starts trying to make moves on you and you shoot him down? He could fuck up your GPA just to get back at you or something.”
“No.” You responded, perhaps a bit too quickly. “No, Baekhyun isn’t like that. He’s not a bad guy, and I don’t think he’ll try anything anyway.”
“Really?”
“I’m not sure of course but he’s also a lot older than us and this is his job, I can’t see him risking his livelihood just for me.”
“He’s a college professor who’s giving you a thousand dollars a week, how does he even have that kind of money anyway? No way he gets paid enough as a professor to be giving you that much. He either has some other source of income or you’re already making him broke.”
You felt stupid for not having considered that yet. How the hell was he giving you so much? She was right, unless he was secretly rich or something there was no way he could afford to give you so much money every week without fucking himself over. Your stomach started to churn with the idea of him possibly even putting himself in debt just for your Saturday nights together. He couldn’t be that stupid right?
She could tell how much the conversation was stressing you out at that point.
“Listen,” she said, grabbing your hand “you just need to get through the semester. You can handle 16 weeks, class with him will get less awkward, and hopefully he’s at least smart enough not to come see you at work anymore now.”
The thought of him not coming anymore wasn’t a good one either though. You made much more money when he was there, and in under 2 hours. Staying at the club until 3am with school going on now, only to take home less money wasn’t really a good option either.
“I don’t wanna see him there but I need his money.”
“You’ll find some other guy who’s rich and in love with you soon enough, don’t worry, it’ll all be fine.” She said, pulling you in for a hug.
“Yeah..”
You knew she was just trying to make you feel better, but realistically you weren’t going to find another guy like Baekhyun at work, Even if someone came along who gave you as much money as he did, they wouldn’t be as fun to talk to, or as respectful as him. Guys like that just don’t come to strip clubs. You still didn’t even fully understand why he did.
“Just think of him as another one of your professors. It might be tough at first, but I think if you can do that you’ll be okay.” 
“You’re right, I just need to get my shit together and not let him distract me.” 
“See? Of course I’m right.” She grinned, and you couldn’t help but smile back. 
Eventually the movie ended, and by then it was late enough for the two of you to get ready for bed.
Talking to your best friend about it had made you feel slightly better. At least whatever happened, she would be there for you to talk it out with. Baekhyun wasn’t a bad person or anything either, it was just the situation that was stressing you out. As long as you could get ahold of yourself enough to focus on his lectures and do well in the class, you’d be fine. 
You kept reassuring yourself as you closed your eyes, and for the first night that week you didn’t stare at your ceiling for hours worrying, you went right to sleep.
Next Chapter
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calwrites · 3 years
Text
one of those days (s.r.)
Summary: You’ve had a really awful day. Luckily, your boyfriend always seems to make life better.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x female!reader
word count: 5k
we’re going to ignore civil war and just pretend everyone is a big, happy family in this one
request from @maximeevansblog
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You know those days where everything is going so wrong that you can’t even bother being upset about it anymore? As you stood on the sidewalk, staring at the coffee you had just paid too much money for and then dropped after taking three steps out of the coffee shop, you realized that your day had officially reached that point. It shouldn’t have been surprising that your day would turn out like this. You had started off the morning with a new case. One that was actually going to earn you money this time, which should have made you excited. Except your client was suing the Department of Damage Control, which meant going another round against Tony Stark and his legal team. Somehow, you had become the go-to lawyer for New Yorkers suing the DODC. While you and Tony got along on a personal level, you most certainly did not on a professional level.
You had barely had time to read over the new case before going to a meeting about another case you were working on. It was very obvious to everyone involved that your client didn’t have a very strong case, but having to deal with smarmy corporate lawyers rubbing it in was almost unbearable. Still, you managed to cut a deal that was better than anything your client would get in court, though you thought that they weren’t likely to see it that way. You were right. So that probably should have been the low point of the day. 
It wasn’t.
A large bouquet of your least favorite type of flower was sitting at your desk when you got back to your office. Unsurprisingly, a note from Tony was attached, which meant that he had heard about your newest case. Underneath the ugly bouquet were two letters from potential clients asking for your help pro bono. You would take the cases. You always took the pro bono cases, even though you didn’t have the time and could really use the money.
The text was what you thought was going to make you lose it. You had stared at the screen for a minute, wavering between wanting to throw it at the wall and wanting to lay your head down and start crying. Steve was stuck at the compound upstate and wouldn’t be able to make it into the city for date night. He didn’t offer a reason, but he rarely ever did when Avengers things were concerned. There were some things that he didn’t think you needed to know, and you were perfectly fine not knowing them. Still, you had been looking forward to seeing Steve. He had been stuck at the compound for most of the week, and you really missed him. At least he had promised a weekend at the compound, which was the closest thing to a vacation you ever had, to make it up to you.
You and Steve had been dating for a few years now. Though he technically lived at the compound, the two of you basically lived together. Whenever he wasn’t upstate, he was staying in your little Brooklyn apartment. Your friends often teased you that it wasn’t fair that you were the one to snag Captain America when he wasn’t even your favorite Howling Commando. It had been Dum Dum Dugan, but only because eight year old you thought his name was the funniest.
According to Steve, he had known the minute that he saw you, or actually heard you, that he was going to fall in love with you. He hadn’t even opened the door to Tony’s office before he was able to hear you ripping Tony a new one. Perhaps storming into Stark Towers to yell at Tony Stark wasn’t the smartest move, but you were young, it was your first big case, and you were fired up. Plus, the DODC needed to get it together because whatever system they had at that time wasn’t working. You ended up winning the case. Steve had known then and there that he had to know you. And Tony had decided that he needed you on his legal team. Only one of them got their way, and it wasn’t Tony. Not that he wasn’t still trying, you thought, glancing at the ugly flowers again.
It was impossible to be mad at Steve for missing date night because he had superhero responsibilities, but it still bummed you out. You managed to plough through the rest of the afternoon before heading home. As you passed your favorite coffee shop, you thought that you would treat yourself to some caffeine, since you would probably be up late working on the new pro bono cases. Of course, you had dropped the coffee almost immediately, which you took as a sign to just chalk up the day as a loss and head home as quickly as possible before lightning struck you or a tornado swept you up or aliens abducted you.
Morning came too quickly. Though you had gone to sleep earlier than you had anticipated, it was still hard to peel your eyes open. You glared blearily at the clock. It told you that it was still early in the morning, so why were you awake?
The answer came in the form of the creak of your bedroom door. You barely had time to panic about the possibility of an intruder before Steve poked his head in, a smile breaking out on his face at the sight of your sleepy confusion.
“Surprise, honey,” he said quietly.
“What are you doing here?” Despite your confusion, you reached out to him, pulling him onto the bed and snuggling into his chest.
Steve wrapped you up in his arms and settled deeper into the bed. “I felt bad that I had to cancel on date night after you had such a bad day, so I thought I’d surprise you. I’m taking you out and spoiling you today before we head upstate for the weekend.”
“I have work today, Steve,” you protested, though you were too happy to see Steve to really worry about work.
“I’ve already talked to your boss, and he told me that you were taking a half day today. I managed to talk him into giving you the whole day off. One of the perks of being Captain America.”
You hit Steve’s arm lightly. “I don’t know why everyone thinks you're such a golden boy. You’re a bad influence, Rogers.” Steve’s loud laugh caused your heart to soar. You’d stay in bed with Steve all day if you could.
As if he was reading your mind, Steve said, “Why don’t you go back to sleep for a bit? We have a reservation at your favorite brunch place in a few hours. You could get at least another hour of sleep.”
“I won’t argue with you, but you have to stay in bed with me.”
“I like that deal.” Steve kissed the top of your head gently as you snuggled into his side, already drifting back off to sleep.
An hour later, you woke up feeling much more rested. Opening your eyes slowly, you immediately found Steve gazing at you.
“Were you watching me sleep?”
“No.”
“You’re a bad liar, babe.”
“And you’re adorable when you’re sleeping, honey.”
“Ok, Edward Cullen, calm down.” You didn’t really want to get out of bed, but you forced yourself to stand and stretch, leaning down quickly to give Steve a peck on the lips.
“I don’t understand that reference.” It was hard not to laugh at the small pout on Steve’s face as he watched you walk into the bathroom.
“That’s because you refuse to watch Twilight with me. Now, I need to get ready for our day out. You can stay there and pour, or you can take a shower with me.” You didn’t bother waiting to see if Steve would follow you, confident that he was already scrambling out of bed.
After your shower, Steve insisted on picking out an outfit for you while you did your hair and makeup. Once the two of you were ready, you left the apartment and walked down to the restaurant, holding hands the entire time.
It was sometimes a bit strange when you and Steve went out in public. Steve managed to blend in pretty well when he was dressed in casual clothes, but he was occasionally recognized. Many New Yorkers had grown fairly used to seeing Avengers out and about and were content to leave them alone, but tourists were prone to getting over excited and star struck. Luckily, Steve flew under the radar during brunch. You thought that the waiter probably recognized him, but the only sign he gave was charging you for only half of your meal.
As you ate, you caught Steve up on your work, and he told you about some of the stuff the other Avengers had been up to. Bucky was settling into the team well, which you knew was a big relief for Steve. You had only met Bucky a couple times. He wanted to make sure that all of the Hydra brainwashing was gone before you spent much time together, despite both you and Steve trying to tell him that you trusted him.
After brunch, Steve let you drag him into some of your favorite stores. He played the doting boyfriend as you tried on clothes, showering you with compliments and even picking out a few pieces that he thought would look good on you. Despite your protests, he bought you way more than you were planning on getting, and silenced you with kisses when you tried to tell him you didn’t need it all.
You had assumed that you would head back to your apartment to drop it all off and then head up to the compound, but Steve led you into a nail salon on your way home and insisted on paying for you to get your nails done.
“You’re doing way too much, Steve. Honestly, we could have just gone to read in the park and it would have been a perfect day,” you told him. He looked a bit funny sitting on a small chair surrounded by shopping bags.
“I told you that I wanted to spoil you, honey. You work too hard. You deserve a day all about you.” You were about to protest more when your stomach let out a loud growl, causing your face to heat up in embarrassment. Apparently all of that shopping made you work up an appetite. “Wait right there,” Steve laughed as he stood up and made his way out of the nail salon. As if you had much of a choice, considering a woman had just started painting your nails.
The lady had just finished your first hand when the door opened and Steve walked back in, a fast food bag in his hand.
“I got the feeling you were hungry,” he teased as he sat back down next to you. He opened the bag and dug out a couple of fries.
“I’m kind of in the middle of something, babe,” you laughed, nodding your head at your hands that were splayed out on the table.
“That’s why I’m going to feed you,” Steve said as if it was obvious. He held the fries up to your mouth. You shook your head in amusement, but you ate the fries anyway. You knew that you were incredibly lucky to have a boyfriend like Steve, who was willing to sit and feed you fries and chicken nuggets as you got your nails done.
“You’re the best. You know that right?”
“Are you just saying that because I got you food?”
“No. I’m saying it because I love you.”
Steve’s smile spread shyly across his face. “I love you too.”
The two of you had finished the food by the time your nails were done. Steve once again took up all of your shopping bags, and the two of you walked back to your apartment. You packed quickly, eager to leave. To your delight, Steve had ridden his motorcycle into the city rather than taking a car, so you got to press yourself into his back as the two of you rode up to the compound. You loved riding the motorcycle with Steve. It was often too windy and loud to really talk, so you got to enjoy each other’s presence in silence.
“Where is everyone?” you asked when you got to the compound. Normally, you ran into at least one other person on your way to Steve’s room, but it was like a ghost town.
Steve shrugged. “Maybe they’re out. Or training. I think most people should be here this weekend though. They’re all looking forward to seeing you.”
At the beginning of your relationship, you had been nervous about meeting all of the Avengers. Your worth had been needless, though, as all of the Avengers had been happy to meet the mystery girl who was helping Captain America settle into the 21st century. Now, you could comfortably say that many of the superheroes were some of your best friends.
“Weird,” you muttered, but you weren’t really too concerned. They all had their own lives, so you couldn’t really expect them to be sitting around waiting for you all the time.
You didn’t have much time to dwell on it. Steve had decided that the two of you were making your favorite dinner, though you didn’t really do much. You sat on the counter and watched as Steve cooked. Music from the 40s floated gently through the room. You knew from Steve’s slightly wistful smile that he was remembering his old life. It broke your heart a little bit whenever he got quiet like that. You could never understand what he went through, but you hoped that you helped make it more bearable for him.
“What are you thinking about?” Steve’s voice broke through your thoughts and made you realize that you had been staring at him.
“You,” you answered simply.
“Me? I’m flattered.”
“Do you miss it? How your life used to be?” It was a subject you tended to skirt around because you were afraid of the answer.
Steve was silent for a minute, his face introspective. “I used to wonder what my life would have been like if I hadn’t been frozen. Or if I hadn’t been picked for the serum at all, I guess. Now, I don’t think there’s any point in that. I can’t change what happened. I don’t think I would even if I could. I have everything I could ever need here.” Steve took your hands, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles gently.
“There’s nothing you miss? The food? The clothes? The dancing?”
“Food is much better in this century. We used to boil everything. And we can still dance now just fine, honey.” To prove his point, he stepped back and dragged you off the counter. He pulled you against him, and the two of you swayed gently. You weren’t sure how many songs you danced to before the oven timer went off. Steve wrapped up in a hug and kissed you deeply before pulling away to get the food.
Dinner was delicious. Steve’s cooking had made great strides the last few years. You insisted on clearing the table while he got dessert ready. The two of you sat and chatted as you ate your dessert. At one point, Steve laughed so hard at something you said that he knocked his fork off the table. Shaking your head fondly, you bent down to pick it up.
When you sat back up, you were confused to find that Steve wasn’t in his chair across from you. Instead, he was kneeling on the ground next to you. You gasped, your hands flying up to cover your mouth, when you saw the small box in his hands.
“Y/N, you are the most amazing person I have ever met. I was a man lost in time before I met you. You’re my home. You’re the love of my life, and I hope that you’ll let me spend the rest of my life with you. Y/N, will you marry me?”
“Yes,” you laughed, tears falling down your face. “Yes! Yes, of course, Steve.” He took your hand and gently slid the ring onto your finger. He had barely finished before you were throwing yourself into his arms. 
“I was so nervous,” Steve admitted. His voice was muffled slightly because his face was buried in your neck. “I’ve been trying to decide how to do this for so long. Tony offered to book a private island, but I thought that might be a bit much.”
“Just a bit,” you agreed. You pulled back slightly to kiss him. Your hand shook slightly as you held it out to look at the ring. “It’s gorgeous, Steve.”
“It was my mom’s.” Your head snapped up quickly, your eyes once again filling with tears. You hadn’t known that Steve had anything from his family. “Howard and Peggy managed to keep some of my stuff. I guess they never stopped hoping I’d come back.”
“I’m glad they did.” You leaned in again, letting yourself get lost in the kiss. “I love you, Steve.”
“I love you too. Now you have to win your next case so you can pay for the wedding. Unless you want Tony to pay.”
“I can’t even imagine what that wedding would be like,” you groaned. “You might need to get a real job.”
Lucky for Steve, it didn’t come to that. You won your next case. And the one after that. And the one after that. In fact, your career was on a high leading up to your wedding. Not that you needed much money for the wedding. It was a small affair, only close friends invited since neither of you had any family. On Steve’s side were all of the Avengers and their friends. On your side were your friends from school and some of your coworkers, all of whom looked a bit overwhelmed to be in the presence of so many superheroes. You and Steve decided to have the wedding at the compound so that you wouldn’t have to worry about security or paparazzi or anything like that.
“I’m nervous,” you groaned for the hundredth time that morning. “Why am I so nervous? I feel like I’m going to be sick.” 
“You better not be sick. You just got your makeup done,” Nat pointed out dryly.
“And you need to get in your dress soon so you’re not late to your own wedding,” Wanda added.
You and Steve had agreed on having small wedding parties, so Nat and Wanda were your only two bridesmaids, while Bucky and Sam were Steve’s groomsmen. You opened your mouth to respond, but quickly clamped your lips together and rushed over to the toilet, making it just in time to avoid making a mess on the floor. Fortunately, Wanda was able to use her powers to hold your hair back.
“Are you sure nerves aren’t the only reason you’re feeling sick?” Nat asked as you sat back. “I noticed that you didn’t have anything to drink at your bachelorette party.”
Wanda’s eyes grew almost comically wide. “Oh my gosh, Y/N! Are you pregnant?”
Your mind whirled as you tried to come up with a way to spin this, but you realized it was pointless. “You can’t tell Steve.”
“He doesn’t know?” Nat asked. You felt it was a bit hypocritical of her to be judging you for keeping a secret when she was an actual spy, but you decided to let that slide.
“I didn’t want to tell him until I was sure and then he was so stressed about making sure the wedding was perfect. I didn’t want to make him more stressed.”
“This is amazing, Y/N,” Wanda squealed, wrapping you in a hug. After a second, you felt Nat’s arms circle around you too. “Now let’s go get you married.”
Any nerves that you had melted away when you saw Steve standing at the end of the aisle. His eyes filled with tears immediately when he saw you, causing you to become misty eyed too. You tried to hold the tears back, knowing Nat and Wanda would kill you if you ruined your makeup so quickly. However, you lost that battle once Steve started to say his vows, his voice breaking with emotion.
Most of the non-Avengers guests left after staying at the reception for a couple of hours because they didn’t want to be driving back into the city late. Once they were all gone, Sam started urging you and Steve to start opening up your presents. Eventually, you had to give in.
“Let’s see whose gifts are lame,” Sam cheered as everyone took a seat. The first gift that Sam declared lame was from Scott, who claimed that he had shrunk your gift to make transporting it from San Francisco easier and then lost it somewhere in his room.
“Cmon, small fry! Just admit that you didn’t buy anything,” Sam teased. Scott tried to defend himself, but soon everyone was piling on. You had to move on to the next present to put him out of his misery. Most of the others had given you things you mentioned needing for the bigger apartment you hoped to get soon. Even before you knew you were pregnant, you and Steve had decided that it might be time to upgrade from your small, one bedroom apartment.
Peter was a bit embarrassed by his gift. He couldn’t exactly afford to buy anything fancy. He was a high school student after all. Instead, he had made some sort of toaster, microwave, air fryer hybrid that he assured you didn’t explode...anymore. You weren’t sure how confident you were in that, but you acted thrilled anyways.
Vision bought you what he assured you was the safest baby essentials. You almost choked on your water when Steve opened the box for the crib, which Vision told you he would put together. Everyone else was too busy laughing to notice the panicked looks you, Nat, and Wanda shared. There were a lot of jokes about how Vision must be eager for some kids running around the compound, but he didn’t seem to understand why everyone was laughing. You were sure that he had somehow used his super robot brain to figure out that you were pregnant, but apparently he hadn’t mentioned it to anyone else.
Tony insisted on going last, of course. His gift was a world class realtor showing you some of the best apartments in New York, which Tony insisted he would pay for. Steve tried to refuse, but you stopped him.
“We’ll think about it,” you said. Steve looked at you in surprise. Since the Avengers didn’t get paid, Steve usually had to rely on Tony’s money, but you were the one who was always insisting on paying for things yourself.
“We will?”
You shrugged. “There’s no way we’ll get a fancy penthouse or anything, but we could use a good realtor. And let’s face it, Tony will find a way to end up paying for most of it anyways.” You knew that your family would no doubt spend a lot of time at the compound, but you wanted a nice place in the city where your kids could go and be normal kids. If accepting Tony’s help was what it took to ensure that your family would have a nice place to live, you were willing to live with that. Plus, not having to worry about rent would allow you to take more pro bono work. 
Everyone sat around chatting for a while after the presents were done. Steve had you tucked into his side as the two of you lounged on a couch and watched your friends.
“You wanna get out of here?” Steve whispered in your ear.
“I’ll have to ask my husband if that’s okay,” you teased, enjoying the chuckle you got out of Steve.
“I think he’ll be fine with it. Not that you ever listen to anything he says.” Steve stood, pulling you up with him. Your face burned when everyone started cheering the two of you on, but Steve just laughed and waved goodnight to them. The two of you walked through the compound to Steve’s room in comfortable silence. Tomorrow, you would head out for your honeymoon, so you were enjoying your last peaceful moments at home.
“Do you actually think we need Tony’s realtor?” Steve asked suddenly. “I thought you liked that place we saw the other week.”
“Are you trying to start our first marital fight?” you joked, trying to get Steve to drop it. There was no way to explain why you were second guessing the place you and Steve had both liked without explaining that it wasn’t as child-friendly as you would like.
“I’m serious, honey. What made you change your mind?”
“I don’t know. I guess I was just thinking about how a third floor walkup could make some things difficult. And that place isn’t that much bigger than where I live now. There are also much better neighborhoods. Maybe we could look for somewhere closer to a park with a few bedrooms in a building with an elevator.”
“A few bedrooms? Sounds like you're describing a mansion. This is the city we’re talking about.”
“I’m not asking for a penthouse or a townhouse or anything. Just something that isn’t very cramped.” You tried to pull away from Steve, but he wrapped you up in a big hug.
“Ok, ok, I’m sorry. I just want to know what made you change your mind so much. I thought you said the third floor walkup would ensure we both stay in shape.”
You chewed on your lip thoughtfully, which made Steve know immediately that you were considering something important. Instead of answering, you grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him down the hallway and into his room. Once you shut the door, you turned to face him. He was alarmed slightly by the nervousness in your eyes. You and Steve hadn’t talked seriously about kids. You both wanted some, but it seemed like both of you thought about them in terms of the future, not right after getting married.
“I’m pregnant,” you said finally.
“What?” Steve had heard you perfectly, even though you had barely whispered it. Perks of being a super soldier. It looked like his brain was short circuiting, though.
“I’m pregnant,” you said again, louder this time. Slowly, you put your hands around Steve’s waist. “Steve? Babe, talk to me. Where’s your head at? I know we weren’t expecting to have kids so soon but-”
“This is amazing,” Steve breathed. He picked you up and spun you around. “Oh my gosh! This is amazing.” He gently set you back on your feet, then kneeled to kiss your stomach. “How long have you known? Does anyone else know?”
“I’ve only known for sure for about a week, but I was suspicious. Nat and Wanda know. And Vision, apparently.”
“That explains the crib,” Steve laughed breathlessly. He hugged you again.
“That explains the crib,” you agreed.
“And the apartment. Honey, I don’t care how much money Tony has to spend. Your kid is going to have the best place in all of New York City.”
“It doesn’t have to be the best. It just has to be home. And just so you know, you’re not allowed to miss the birth because you’re on a mission. You’re taking paternity leave as soon as I’m close to popping.” Steve laughed and agreed before picking you up and carrying you towards the bed.
Steve shouldn’t have been surprised by the text. Of course you would go into labor while he was across the country. You weren’t due for another three weeks, so you and Steve had both thought it would be safe for him to go on one last mission. It had been a quick one, luckily, so he had a chance to get there before you actually gave birth.
A few people gave him strange looks as he ran through the halls of the hospital, almost sliding past your room because he was going so fast. Though the looks might have been because he was still wearing his Captain America uniform.
You couldn’t help but laugh when you saw him stumble into the room. He seemed uninjured, which meant the mission was a success in your books. He was breathing heavily, not you knew it wasn’t from the running. Another perk of being a super soldier. Steve Rogers, who had fought actual aliens, was nervous.
“Thank god I made it,” he gasped, rushing over to grab your hand. “We broke about every speed limit on the way over. Sam thought I should just jump out of the plane and into the roof of the hospital, but I thought that might be a bit much.”
“Just a bit,” you agreed before being overtaken by another contraction. You squeezed Steve’s hand as your eyes screwed shut. “You made it just in time. I’m about to start pushing. I was going to ask them to go find a hot doctor to hold my hand.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Steve laughed, but he did grip your hand tighter. You smiled brightly at him. Despite what you said, it was such a relief to you that he had made it. Your smile faded when the doctor told you to push. This was the part you hadn’t been looking forward to.
Steve was on the edge of his seat next to you. He hated that there was nothing he could do to really make it easier, but he held your hand and reminded you to breathe.
Finally, you were able to collapse back into the pillows. You and Steve watched in amazement as the doctor placed the tiny, crying body in your arms.
“It’s a girl,” Steve breathed.
“It’s a girl,” you agreed. “And she’s perfect.”
“Yeah she is.” You turned to smile at Steve and realized that his eyes were already on you. He leaned in to gently press a kiss on your lips before bending down to press another on your daughter’s head.
You couldn’t help the tears of joy that ran down your face. You had the two most important people in the world with you now. You couldn’t ask for your life to be any more perfect.
108 notes · View notes
marktuansvevo · 4 years
Text
got7: valentines day dates!
warning(s); a little bit of suggestive content in youngjae and bam’s parts, cursing
happy valentines, babes!! ♡
mark;
mark showers you with fancy gifts, no matter how hard you protest. “you don’t have to so much money on me,” you would say through the bathroom door as you slipped into the pretty baby pink floor length gown you had just unwrapped. “you know just spending time with you is the only thing i ever want.”
mark hummed at the sentiment, not looking up from his phone. “i would have whisked you away to taiwan if there wasn’t a goddamned pandemic.”
when you walked out of the bathroom, he instantly brightened, motioning for you to turn around so he could see how well the dress fit. “you always look so pretty,” he said, giggling. “can you wear that to dinner? i love how you look in it.”
now it was your turn to coo. “mark, valentine’s is cheesy. we don’t have to go out, i can order us takeout.”
“stop avoiding all the attention. why can’t i properly show the world how much i love you?” mark raised his eyebrow at you. “you deserve to be spoiled. period!”
“you can show the world how much you love me publicly,” you got on your tiptoes to kiss right below his ear, nipping a little. you smiled at the small giggle he let out. “but just know, i’m showing you how much i love you privately tonight.”
you expected him to blush, mark always got flustered when you talked to him about the bedroom. instead, he smirked at you, biting his lip. “good, because i bought you lingerie for tonight, too. you can be my pretty model.”
now you were the one blushing.
jaebeom;
different from mark, jaebeom keeps the valentines festivities private. he knows that you had a big presentation to pitch in front of the higher ups at your company, so he knew you were stressed. he wanted to relieve you of any and all stress and take care of you for the night. jaebeom made you your favorite meal, as well as a red velvet cake, and had bought three beautiful rose bouquets for you, each one representing one of the years you had spent together.
you walked through the front door, and even from the kitchen he could hear you sigh loudly. it must have been a long day.
“y/n?”
“hmmm?”
“happy valentines,” he whispered, pulling you into a hug and giving you a peck on the lips. “i love you.”
“i love you too. uhm, i don’t mean to be a downer baby, but i don’t feel like going out tonight,” you sighed, resting your head on his chest.
“rough day?” he frowned when you nodded. valentines was always one of your favorite days, so seeing you so down made his heart hurt. “well, good thing i made us dinner so we don’t have to go out.”
you picked your head off his shoulder, looking up at him. “you did?”
“yes, baby, don’t look so surprised,” he laughed, taking your hand and leading you to the kitchen to see pasta and cake on the stove and the three bouquets on the dining room table. “we may have to sit at the island tonight, there’s a garden at the table.”
the two of you sat as the island of the kitchen, him listening intently as you told him about your day from hell. he could tell by your voice that you were exhausted, so once you finished with dessert, he took your plates and put them in the sink.
“cmon babe, you deserve to relax. let me run you a bath and i’ll do the dishes tonight.”
“why don’t you join me instead?” you asked sweetly. “just wanna be close to you.”
he winked at you. “anything for my valentine.”
jackson;
you were under strict instructions from your husband to meet him at a fancy restaurant with your two beautiful daughters in tow, since he had to work all morning and couldn’t make it to their schools valentines class parties. he felt so bad when his youngest, elizabeth, who was still in preschool started to cry when he told her he couldn’t come to her party. the oldest, natalie, who had just turned nine, put on a brave face, but you and jackson could tell she was crushed.
“cmon, girls, daddy doesn’t like when we’re late,” you urged, smiling softly as you watched natalie help beth change into her jumper.
“does daddy have gifts for us?” natalie asked, her eyes wide.
“mm, yes honey, and i have one for you too,” you smiled knowingly as your girls began to scream in excitement, almost knocking you down as they exited their shared room.
you made it to the restaurant, where you let out a breath of relief.  the girls wouldn’t stop pestering you about what your present for them was. you thought you might drop the ball and spill your little secret, but you kept your mouth shut, singing along to one of your husband’s songs that was on the radio, and the girls followed suit.
you walked them into the restaurant, where jackson was sitting alone with balloons and three gift bags – one for each of his girls.
“daddy!” your girls screamed in unison, running through the restaurant to get to their daddy. you watched the looks on the couples face as you passed by – some looked at the girls with joy in their eyes, while others just rolled their eyes, probably just wanting a quiet, romantic night out. you just smiled, nothing could bring your spirit down.
“ah, my girls! i missed you so much!” he said, scooping them both into his arms. “how were your parties, sweeties?”
you sat across from your husband who was taking in the stories of his daughters days, replying with the same amount of enthusiasm that they did. after the girls were done talking, natalie crossed her arms.
“daddy, are you trying to distract beth and i from these gifts?”
you giggled as jackson crossed his arms over his chest. “isn’t valentines supposed to be about love? i just want to hear how my girls are. i love you all very much, you know.”
your heart somersaulted. you fell more and more in love with him day after day.
the girls opened their gifts – a stuffed clifford the big red dog for beth (he was her favorite right now), and a lego set for natalie. they both thanked him endlessly. “daddy, will you help me put this together?” natalie asked, almost shyly.
“of course, baby girl.”
“mommy, what is your gift for us?”
jackson studied your face as you took the rectangular box that was tied up with a single black bow out of your pocket. there was a big, stupid grin on your face. “this is for all of you. i want you all to know i love you so much.”
“go ahead, girls, open it,” jackson urged, still studying your face. you winked at him.
“uh, mommy, what is this?”
jackson’s eyes were blown wide as he looked at the two positive pregnancy tests. “tell me you’re joking?” his eyes were misty now. the two of you had been trying for a third child for two years and had been failing. your daughters looked at the two of you, dissatisfied with your present.
“do you know what this means, girls?” jackson asked in a whisper, squeezing your hand from across the table. “you’re going to have a little brother or sister in a couple of months.”
“no way!!!” they cheered, hugging each other.
“this is the best valentines gift i have ever received, thank you baby,” jackson said. you sent him a wink.
“couldn’t have made it without you.”
jinyoung;
you were glowing as you looked over at jinyoung from across the table. he smiled as you just beamed at him, playing footsie under the table. it was 3am at the diner off campus, and nobody was around to see you two. you were happy, sucking on your milkshake. jinyoung just admired you before saying; “you have sex hair.”
“and who’s fault is that?”
the two of you had been the best of friends for as long as you could remember, and now, your senior year of college, the two of you had been best friends with benefits. you had been hooking up since the day you had called him sobbing about an exam, and he had consoled you by kissing you. it’s been history ever since then.
“when are you going to admit that we were made for each other,” jinyoung was nothing if not blunt. he smiled gently, reaching across the table and holding your hand. you shrinked in on yourself, blushing.
“i thought we agreed it’d be too much,” you said, stealing one of his fries off his plate, avoiding his gaze. “with senior thesis and projects…”
“i never agreed to that. you said that and i just went along with it because i didn’t want to lose what we have. i think it’s bullshit to say that us dating is too much. we see each other at least twice a week,” he paused before smirking. “you’re sitting here in my pajama pants with sex hair. on valentines day”
he had a point. the two of you always made time to see each other – studying at a local coffee shop on mondays and sometimes hooking up on the weekends (to relieve stress, of course).  you couldn’t deny the chemistry that the two of you had…and graduation was only a couple months away...would it really be so crazy to start dating right now?
“i know you adore me,” jinyoung smiled, saying it softly. “and i know that i adore you. so what’s the problem?”
you looked down. “i’m scared. i don’t want to lose you.”
jinyoung knew you had insecurities in relationships – the last guy you dated had moved away without even telling you and moved in with one of his girlfriends. he has helped you through that time of heartbreak in your life…and he didn’t want that to ever happen to you again. he wouldn’t stand for it.
“y/n, i would never hurt you.”
you squeezed his hand. “just give me some time, okay? you’re right, i do adore you.”
“i’ll give you whatever time you need.”
jinyoung picked up the tab and you drove back home in silence, your fingers interlaced with his. you looked over at him in the passenger side. “nyoungie, will you spend the night?”
he kissed your fingers. “of course, sweetheart.”
when you woke up the next morning, you’re alone. you immediately panic until you smell….eggs?
you walk into the kitchen to see jinyoung flipping eggs, and pretty flowers on the countertop. he smiles widely. “good morning, my valentine.”
cheesy bastard.
you wrap your arms around his back, breathing in his scent. “i don’t need anymore time.”
“hm?”
“i want to be yours, jinyoung.”
jinyoung turns around in your arms before kissing you. “i have always been yours.”
youngjae;
“youngjae, are you there?” you giggled as you sat on your shared bed.
“im here baby,” he said. “jinyoung keeps bugging me to watch with us.”
“tell him no! it’s date night,” you frowned. “im gonna go get a bottle of wine.”
“okay, honey.”
you walk into the kitchen, admiring the flowers youngjae had ordered for you for the tenth time that day. you grabbed your favorite bottle of wine and scooped up the little sleepy ball of fluff before heading back into the bedroom. although you would have loved to have physically spent valentines with youngjae, you realized this was the best it was gonna get.
“get the wine?” your boyfriend asked before squealing at the screen. “coco!!! oh, i miss you both so much!!!”
“is that coco!!” you heard jinyoung squeal too. mark came into the frame and started cooing too.
“jinyoung, mark, date night!” you giggled, lifting coco into your lap, shaking the little paw to say “hi.”
“i miss you guys,” you tell the boys. “i really do, but can jae and i enjoy valentines together? we just want some alone time.”
“ahh, okay y/n, happy valentines,” jinyoung winked at you.
“you really should come out here with us, they never listen to me that well,” youngjae says. “you look so pretty. i wish i was there with you.”
you and youngjae had been in a long distance relationship for three years now, and it got easier, but there was just some days you longed for each other. you knew this was one of those days, you could tell by the longing in his eyes.
“jae. i miss you,” you pouted. “coco, say bye to your daddy, mommy has to show him something.”
youngjae knew you were up to something. “jae...how about we skip the movie? i bought something for you,” before you could hear him answer, you started stripping out of your pjs, showing off your brand new lingerie. it left absolutely nothing to the imagination and made you look so sexy. and it was red, too. you could hear youngjae gulp, his pupils blown wide.
“why must you torture me?”
“oh, i mean, we can watch a movie instead....,” you teased, pulling down a strap to reveal more cleavage to your awaiting boyfriend. “its up to you, ill slip into my pajamas and we can —.”
“don’t you even think about stopping,” he growled, shifting the computer down to show you him palming his bulge. you grinned.
your plan was unfolding marvelously.
bam;
you didn’t want to make a big deal about bam working on valentines day. you knew it was a cheesy and cliche holiday...but that didn’t stop you from feeling sad that you couldn’t spend the whole day in your mans’ arms. you pushed the feeling away, texting your boyfriend “happy vday! love u”
you busied yourself with school work to ignore the hurt you felt in your heart, but you couldn’t get your mind off bam. you scrolled through your camera roll to pick the pictures for your instagram post. before you could post a picture of you posing with bam on the beach, a call interrupted you.
“y/n, what are you doing right now??” jackson asks in a panicked voice.
“uh, working on a project...are you okay?”
“bam just fell, he’s in pain. he keeps asking for you, can you take him to the ER??”
“ill be there in ten.”
you sped all the way to the dance studio, bracing yourself for a broken ankle or a gash in his face. oh, god, you wanted your heart to stop racing.
“where’s my baby boy??” you asked jaebeom, who was smirking when you first saw him, but the smirk was completely wiped off his face when he saw your misty eyes. “jaebeom, is he okay? why couldn’t you have brought him to the ER! i could have met you there!”
“uh, y/n, come with me. and stop crying,” jaebeom led you into the studio where bam was sitting on the floor. the studio was surrounded with gifts all wrapped up in pink and red, heart shaped balloons, as well a buffet of your favorite foods. you looked at jaebeom in confusion, who just winked at you and closed the door behind him.
“happy valentines, baby,” there was a knowing smile on his face.
“you are such an ass. i almost had a heart attack driving over here,” you whined, pulling away from his hug.
“y/n!! i was just trying to surprise you,” your boyfriend said, picking one of your gifts up and handing it to you. “please let me spoil you all day. i knew you were upset with me for coming to work, let me give you the valentines i know you want.”
you smiled. “how can i argue with such a big softie?”
“shut up, i cant help that i love you,” he was pouting now. “now let me eat whipped cream off of your body.”
yugyeom;
“how do you expect to meet someone if you have an engagement ring on your finger when you’re a single woman?” your new friend, yugyeom asked you. “seems strange to me.”
“maybe i don’t want to date anybody, did you ever think of that?” you asked him. “besides, it wards off all the creeps. hey, there’s a diner at this exit, wanna stop?”
you pulled off the highway to the diner. it was valentine’s, so of course the place was crowded. yugyeom whined. “can’t we just get mcdonalds or something? we’ve been in the car for six hours and im hungry.”
prior to six hours ago, you didn’t know yugyeom. he was bam’s best friend, so you had heard of him in the past. yugyeom was visiting some art school in new york, while you were going home to see your family for your sister’s birthday. wanting to save both of his friends money, he suggested you drive yugyeom to new york. you didn’t know….it was a long drive from chicago, but yugyeom said he would give you half the gas money, so it would be worth it. new york wasn’t cheap.
“exactly, so we should eat a proper meal. we still have six and a half hours left.”
“fine,” he huffed.
the waitress sat you two down and gave you your menus before squealing. everyone in the diner turned their heads. “oh. my. GOD!!! did he propose to you today? that ring is absolutely stunning!!”
“oh, no I –“
“as a matter of fact, i proposed this morning. we’re on our way to new york to tell our families,” yugyeom beamed at her, kicking your foot under the table.
the waitress looked like she might faint. “that is so romantic. whenever you’re ready, dinner’s on the house.”
she scurried away, and many “congratulations” rang throughout the little establishment.
“aw, honey you’re blushing,” yugyeom winked at you. you rolled your eyes. you didn’t know if you were smitten with this guy or if you plainly disliked him.
“don’t point it out, dear,” you played along. “have you figured out what you want to order?”
the two of you ordered and pretended to be a couple the whole meal. you scoured at your friend when he stole some of your french fries off your plate. he just sent a wink in your direction. when you sipped some of your milkshake, he rested his hand in his cheek, staring at you. you giggled.
“yeom, what are you up to?”
“just admiring.”
okay, so you were smitten by him.
the two of you went back to the car, where a small smile was playing on his lips. “that was kind of fun.”
you blushed, sinking into the drivers seat. “i haven’t had that much fun in years.”
“maybe you should get back into dating. i think you would make anyone have a good time with you.” he said offhandedly. “that ring is going to prevent you from ever going on a date again.”
“dating is never that easy,” you tried to reason with him…you had been burned so many times in the past, why would you ever want to let yourself get hurt again.
“it was with us,” since your eyes were on the road, you couldn’t see him shrug. “i’m going to take a nap, happy valentines.”
you glanced over at his sleeping form, smiling to yourself. you managed to take the ring off your finger without crashing the car and set it in the center console. beside you, yugyeom opened his eyes.
“does this mean i can take you out once we get to new york?”
251 notes · View notes
thetravelerwrites · 4 years
Text
Henry (Part 2) Lemon
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Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Human/Male Naga Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Naga, Amphiptere, Friends to Lovers, Best Friends to Lovers, Demisexual, Graysexual, Content Warnings: Cam Worker, Cam Model, Sex Worker Words: 4467
The reader breaks a rule and meets Henry’s family, where awkward questions make for an awkward dinner. Please reblog and leave feedback!
The Traveler's Masterlist
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After two and a half months, Henry finally had the money he needed to open up the second location even without renting out the opposite apartment, and the two of you were scouting for the new place. You’d decided that you would run one of them and he would run the other. You were sad that you wouldn’t be working together anymore, but the two of you lived together now, so at least you’d be able to spend time together at home. Henry was also talking about hiring on additional employees if the second location did well, so the two of you wouldn’t have to work so hard.
“What do you think of this place?” He asked. “It’s a little small for what I was thinking, but it’s right next door to a popular wedding venue. We could do special deals for the weddings.”
“That would generate a lot of business, even in the slow season,” You replied. “And it wouldn’t matter if it was small if we had two locations. We could just deliver what we didn’t have here from the main building. It’s only ten minutes away.”
“Right,” He agreed. “So? Is it a yes to this one?”
“Well, it’s your decision, babe,” You said. “It’s your money, your business.”
“And you’re my girlfriend,” He said, pulling you into his arms. “And my business partner. You input matters to me. We make all decisions together.”
You smiled at him fondly. “God, I love you.”
He grinned down at you. “I love you, too. So?”
You looked around one more time and said, “It’s a yes. I like this place. It’s got character.”
“Right? It’s charming. We can work with charming. I’ll pay the deposit on Monday.” He picked you up and swung you around, as well as he could with his long tail in the way. “I’m so excited! Owning my own shop was my dream, and I never expected to be able to expand!”
“I’m so happy for you, babe,” you said, kissing him. “For both of us.”
He kissed you back twice and set you back down on your feet. “So, you’re still up for this weekend? Meeting the parents and everything?”
“Of course, I’m dying to meet them,” You said. “Do… they know about your side job?”
“No, they don’t,” He said firmly. “And I’d like to keep it that way, please. I mean, you know I’m not ashamed of my job, but it’s still my parents. All parents know their kids jerk off and stuff, but they definitely don’t want to talk about it.”
“This is slightly different, don’t you think?”
He shrugged. “It’s still embarrassing to tell them that I take my clothes off for money, even if there’s no touching involved.”
“Well, they won’t hear it from me, then,” You said. “Your secret is safe.”
“Thank you,” He said, smiling. He took your hand and led you out of the vacant building and toward the bus stop. There was a bus for larger non-humans that came twice a day.
“Have you told them much about me?” You asked, sitting on the bench to wait.
“I never shut up about you,” Henry said ruefully. “I’ve been talking about you for years, even before we met. I think they knew I was in love with you before I did. My sister literally told me to shut up once, because I kept gushing about you.”
“That’s sweet,” You said.
“You don’t talk to your folks much, do you?” He asked.
“Not really,” You replied, sitting at the bus stop with him sidling up to coil next to you. “Lots of stuff went down when I left that my parents weren’t cool with, and they said a lot of things that I wasn’t cool with, so we’re just not cool with each other in general.”
“Hmm,” He said. “Well, my sister will like you.” His eyes narrowed. “That may not be a good thing. She keeps trying to steal my girlfriends.”
You laughed. “Well, she doesn’t have a chance. I’m over the moon for you.”
He grinned at you. “That’s good to hear.” He lay his head on your shoulder briefly. “I’m madly in love with you.”
“Yay,” You said softly, kissing the top of his head, careful not to stab yourself on his horns.
“Can we go home and have celebratory sex?” He asked.
“Absolutely. Then we’ll order dinner and play a round of Final Fantasy XIV.”
“It’s a date. I do have a cam session later tonight, though, so I have factor that in.”
“Oh, if that’s the case, we should wait on the sex,” You said, looking down the street and seeing the bus approach. You stood up. “You should be fresh for your clients. We can have all the boning we want afterward. Anything fancy planned?”
“Nope, just a show and share, standard stuff. But it’s a new client, so that’s typical. ”
“Have you dropped a client? You usually don’t take new ones unless one either stops buying slots or you ban someone.”
“One of my old patrons moved on, so I held an auction for his slots. The money from that auction was the final monetary push I needed for the new location,” He said, following you to the curb as the bus stopped in front of you.
“Well, thank you to that person,” You said with a laugh, getting up into the bus. Henry followed you.
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After getting home, the two of you ordered some sushi and played video games. Around eight o’clock, he set the controller down.
“Time for the session?” You asked, powering down the game console.
“It will be soon. I need to get ready. Want to help out?”
“Always. That new purple bolero would look lovely, and we can put some spray glitter in your hair.”
“That shit takes forever to get out!” He whined.
“Yeah, but it looks so cute! And I’ll help you wash it out later.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, I promise,” You said. “Come on, I’ll get you all dressed up and looking pretty for your new client.”
“You’re the best, babe.”                 
You had gotten pretty adept at getting him ready for his shows quickly, and honestly it was a great bonding moment between the two of you. He stayed still and obedient like a puppy while you were doing in and he always looked like a total snack when he was done. Not that he didn’t normally, but the costumes were a great garnish.
When you were finished, you kissed him, said, “Have fun,” And left him to his work.
He’d moved his camming desk and rig to the bedroom so that the two of you could set up his and hers gaming stations in his old office, where the two of you spent a lot of time.
You’d just sat down to play some Among Us with friends when you realized that you’d left your phone in the bedroom. You swore at yourself for being so thoughtless. The number one rule was never interrupt a camming session, it could cost him clients if they found out he had a girlfriend. Some might even want you to participate, and that was not something you were up for.
But you also didn’t want your phone to ring while he was in a video chat. You were usually so careful, so this made you really mad at yourself. Henry couldn’t afford to lose customers right now, with opening the new location. He’d need every penny he could earn.
You knew he kept his Discord up when he was working, in case any emergencies arose and you could notify him, so you pulled it up and typed, >I forgot my phone in the bedroom. Can I come get it?
He typed back, >Sure, just try to be quiet, please.
You tip-toed to the bedroom and pushed the door open gingerly. Henry was talking to his new client playfully. He flicked his eyes over to you and gave you a quick wink before returning his attention to the screen.
Henry’s desk was circular and facing inward toward the wall, so there was be a solid background rather than showing his clients your bedroom. Your phone was on the nightstand next to the bed-nest, out of frame.
“So, tell me a little about yourself, sweetheart,” He said sultrily. “What do you like? What do you like having done to you?” Henry was wearing an earpiece through which the client responded. This prevented you from having to listen and the client from hearing you rattling around in the apartment. “Mmm, that sounds fun. You want to show me, or would you like me to show you first?”
You stealthed across the room and picked up your phone, turning it to silent. When you turned back around, Henry had removed the bolero jacket and was touching his chest suggestively and biting his lip.
“You look so pretty when you do that,” He said with a low-pitched growl in his voice.
Watching him in his element was… kinda hot. Instead of leaving, you sat down quietly on the bed-nest and watched him. He flicked his eyes over to you again for a millisecond, and you heard him typing.
>What are you doing?
>Admiring you. You responded. >You look so sexy.
>You’re breaking the rule.
>Then tell me to leave.
You could tell he was suppressing a smirk, but he didn’t tell you to leave.
>Just be as quiet as possible and you can stay, just this once, He texted you.
>Promise.
He continued the session with you reclining in the nest, watching him work. Normally in the first session with a new client, he didn’t go all the way, so to speak. It was more of a peep show and less of a full service. Usually it was a strip tease and some light touching to entice them to continue their subscription.
The way he was putting on a show for the camera, the exaggerated movements, the low, husky voice, the touching, the sly smirk on his lips, did things to your body. You squeezed your legs together and squirmed slightly, but he didn’t notice.
How much would he let you get away with, you wondered? Slowly, you let your hand slip into the sleep shorts you were wearing, spreading your legs a little.
This time he noticed. A minuscule flick of his eyes made them widen slightly, and he turned back to the keyboard while still engaging with the client.
>Stay quiet, He said. >Don’t make a sound.
He lowered his lashes and took a covert look at you, and you nodded.
He continued with his flirty introduction and laid the flattery on thick to the client, while every once in a while stealing a glance at you. You rocked your pelvis against your hand, massaging your pearl and biting your wrist to keep silent, all while watching him. You saw him pull his tail around under the desk and began stroking his slit in circles, the heads of his dual cocks just starting to peek out.
Just as you were getting to your first orgasm, Henry said, “Well, darling, our time is up. I hope I’ll see you again. I had a wonderful time with you.” He dipped his head down and looked up through his eyelashes, pouting slightly. “Come back soon. Until then, you take care, okay darling? Good night and sweet dreams.”
You came hard, gripping the sheets in one hand as you struggled to stay quiet. Henry exited out of the video chat, tore his earpiece off and threw it onto the desk, and darted toward you, pulling your hand out of your shorts and over your head.
“You…” He said with a dark, gruff tone. “You have been very… very… bad.”
This was a new side to sweet, cuddly Henry. “And what will you do?” You taunted, feeling a little thrill up your spine.
Without warning, he flipped you onto your stomach and snatched your shorts and underwear off. He pushed himself into you, not in a way that hurt, but definitely hard and unceremonious. Since you had climaxed already and were a bit sensitive, it was almost sensory overload, but it was so good, and you gave yourself over to it.
He took both of your hands and held them behind your back with only one of his while he used the other to grip your hip to pull you harder against him.
“Don’t be quiet now,” He growled at you. “Make noise. Moan for me, scream for me, let me hear your voice.”
You were happy to obey, being a little louder than you normally were. You grunted and groaned as he pounded into you roughly, a way he’d never been with you before. He was always gentle and affectionate, and you loved it, but this was on another level. It was hot and passionate and wild, and you were enthralled. You loved Sweet Henry, but Feral Henry was incredible.
Henry came violently against you, growling, and withdrew, thrusting the second cock into you and going full-throttle again. You were used to Henry’s stamina by now, so you could hang with it. Another burst of pleasure crashed into your body, and you screamed his name.
“That’s a good girl,” He snarled into your ear.
A third orgasm, and then a fourth, and by the fifth, you were getting tired. He released one last shot inside you and let you go, collapsing next to you in the nest. You lay face down and gasped.
After a moment or two, he got up on his elbow and stroked your back.
“Are you okay? Do you need some water? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He asked softly.
Ah. Sweet Henry was back. You loved Sweet Henry. He was the best.
“No, I’m okay, babe,” You turned your head to look at him. “What was that? You’ve never been like that with me before.”
“I don’t know,” He said, looking a little shocked at himself. “I’ve never been like that with anyone before. Was it bad?”
“No, on the contrary, it was amazing,” You replied, turning on your side to face him. “I was just playing with you, I didn’t know I’d bring that out.”
“Me neither,” He said ruefully, laughing self-consciously and scratching the back of his head. “You’re sure I didn’t hurt you?”
“I’d have said so if you did, you know that,” You said, reaching up to stroke his face. “I won’t sit in on sessions again, I know it’s bad for business. But… maybe we could roleplay Feral Henry one night. That was fun.”
He grinned wickedly at you, kissing the inside of your hand. “I look forward to it.”
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That Sunday, the two of you took a trip across town to see his family. Despite living in the same city, you hadn’t actually met them yet. They traveled often for work, as they owned an advertising company and worked with businesses across the country. Their daughter, Henry’s older sister, was their secretary and did most of their scheduling.
Henry didn’t want to be an executive with the company and preferred to stand on his own two feet… so to speak. Thankfully, his family was understanding and didn’t object when he decided to follow his dreams instead of staying with the family business. After all, the advertisement company had been his parents’ dream.
You and Henry took a large-race cab service out to the richer end of the city, where his parents lived. They’re house had been built with nagas specifically in mind, so it had been built all on the ground level, but it was huge. There were at least six bedrooms, as far as you could tell.
Henry’s parents, Ruth and Richard, met you at the door. Ruth’s scales were a solid bright blue from waist to tail. Her skin was a burnished bronze and her eyes were gold in color. She had a long, lovely set of wings in blues and gold. She wore a long halter top in a deep brown that matched her tumbling hair and complemented her skin tone.
Richard, on the other hand, did not have wings and as such, wore a simple button up shirt. He was grey in color, both scales and skin, with black rings along his tail and grey horns jutting up from the top of his head out of his pitch black hair.
Naga women didn’t have mammary glands, since their diet at birth was strictly meat, transitioning to other foods as they aged, so nagas often didn’t feel the need to wear clothing. Henry didn’t typically wear clothing unless he was camming or in the shop, in which he wore a basic white t-shirt specially made with a panel in the back to accommodate his wings. Sometimes an apron, if he was feeling fancy. Otherwise, he went without clothes. Today, he went super posh with a blue t-shirt, since this was a special occasion and everything.
“Henry!” Ruth said, rushing out to meet her son. “You look so handsome!” She hugged her son tightly, their wings touching lightly. “And is this your girlfriend? She’s so lovely! Come and give me a hug, sweetie!”  
You walked into her muscular arms and she gave you a warm, motherly hug that felt really nice. Since you weren’t speaking to your own family, this was a type of touch you really missed.
“It’s so nice to meet you!” You said as you stepped away. “Henry has told me all about you.”
“Likewise!” She said, cupping your face. “Gosh, he’s talked about nothing else besides you for years!”
“Honey, don’t embarrass our son,” Richard said, coming out to shake your hand. “It is lovely to meet you at last.”
“You too, sir,” You replied.
“Oh, please, call me Richard. Come in, come in, dinner is almost ready,” He said, putting a hand behind your back, stopping just short of touching you, and ushered you inside.
You could smell a savory smell that made your mouth water as soon as you came inside. You followed Richard into the kitchen, where there was a large, high bar in place of a dinner table and a single barstool.
“We actually had to buy a chair!” Ruth said. “That was exciting. We did measurements and everything.”
Her excitement made you smile wide and feel a little shy. Henry grinned down at you and took your hand, leading you forward toward the barstool. You sat down and looked around the enormous, beautiful kitchen.
“Is she here yet?” A voice from the doorway said. Henry’s sister, Rea, entered unclothed, looking much like her brother but having her mother’s coloring.
“Rea, put on a shirt! We have company!” Ruth said.
“No, really, it’s okay, I’m used to Henry not wearing clothes, so it’s totally fine.” You hopped off the chair and went over to greet her and introduced yourself.
“I’m Rea, it’s great to meet you.” She looked you up and down. “You weren’t lying, Henry, she’s as hot as you described her.”
“Hey,” Henry said warningly, coming up behind you and hugging you close to his chest. “She’s taken.”
“For now,” Rea said to her brother, smiling slyly. He growled.
“Don’t fight,” Ruth said. “Come now, dinner is ready.”
Henry helped you pop back up on the stool and the naga family simply sat back on their tails. Dinner was rare steak and garden vegetables tossed in a homemade dressing and a dry white wine.
“Are you both amphiptere?” You asked Ruth and Richard.
“Yes,” Richard said. “But it’s less likely for the males to have wings than the females. Even among our own kind, Henry is rare.”
“Aww,” You said, patting his cheek. “That doesn’t surprise me one little bit. He’s special.”
“In the head, maybe,” Rea said, shoving a large piece of steak in her mouth. Henry shot her a dry look, but his mouth was too full to retort.
“Well, I’m glad he finally found someone who understands and appreciates his value,” Ruth said. “We were beginning to think he’d never get married.”
Henry choked on his wine, spitting it across the table. His parents and sister had to shield their plates.
“Mom, we’ve only been dating for a few months, it’s too early to be talking about marriage.”
“Oh, please, it’s inevitable, you’ve been in love with her for years!”
“Yes, but she wasn’t aware of that until recently!” He responded. “This is all new for her.”
“But you love her, right?”
“Mom, for the love of God,” Henry groaned, massaging his temples. “Yes, I love her, but it’s still basically the beginning of our relationship. You’re going to scare her off.”
“Well, what do you think?” Ruth asked, turning to you. “You’d marry him, wouldn’t you?”
You opened your mouth, taken aback.“I…”
“You don’t need to answer that,” Henry said. “Mom, really, don’t make her feel uncomfortable. Neither of us are thinking about marriage right now. Can we please talk about something else?”
“Mom, really, leave Henry alone,” Rea said.
“Alright, alright, I’m just saying--”
“Honey,” Richard said stiffly. “Please.”
Ruth sniffed and sighed, but fell silent. What followed was a rather awkward dinner.
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As the two of you were leaving, Ruth apologized for being so pushy, having thought about her words over the strained silence. You told her it was okay, and that you were looking forward to seeing them again.
Back on the taxi heading toward town, you started thinking about it. Did he really not think about getting married one day? You were kind of hoping that eventually you would. Not soon, but eventually.
“Don’t worry about my mom,” Henry said, taking your hand. “She has that mom habit of not knowing when to stop.”
“No, it’s totally fine, she just caught me off guard, is all,” You replied.
“You sure you’re okay?” He asked, tilting his head down a bit to look at your face. “You seem bothered by something.”
“It’s just…” You tried to think of a way to phrase it that wouldn’t spook him but failed. “No, it’s nothing really.”
“No, no,” He said, bumping your shoulder with his lightly. “Come on, I know there’s something on your mind. I’m your best friend, right? You can tell me anything.”
You sighed. “Are you really not thinking about marriage at all? I don’t mean right now or anything, but like in the future? Maybe a few years from now?”
“Well…,” He began, his brow furrowing. “I mean, yeah, of course I am. I’ve been thinking about marrying you since before we ever met. But our relationship is new and I didn’t want to put that kind of pressure on you. And we’re opening a new shop! Who knows how long it’ll be before the chaos of that subsides long enough for us to even begin to plan a wedding? It could genuinely be years.”
“So… it’s a possibility, then?”
“More than a possibility, I’d say,” He said with a gentle smile. “But we need time to feel this out. Just because we love each other is no reason to rush into something we aren’t necessarily prepared for, you know? Marriage is… a lot.”
You nodded. “Yeah. And I agree with you, but I was just worried that you weren’t even considering it.”
“Well, don’t worry. It’s definitely on my mind.”
“Good.” You laid your head on his shoulder, linking your arm with his. “Do we still have ice cream at home?”
“Nope, I ate it earlier.”
“Boo, you suck.”
He chuckled. “We’ll stop at the store on the way home. Mint chocolate chip and some cookies?”
“You know me so well.” You raise your head and puckered your lips, and he bent down to kiss you.
“I do think that before we start talking seriously about marriage or anything like that, I want to stop camming.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, when I got into it, I never intended to be a career, it was just a side job to help me pay bills. It’s fun and I like it, but I don’t want to do it forever. There is a risk to it, and I worry that you might be affected by it, and I don’t want that.”
“Risk?”
“Yeah. In fact, I think I’m going to end the camming early this year. I’m booked through the month, but I think I’ll make a post tonight saying that I’m going offline for the season. We’re going to be run ragged getting the new place set up. Some people will be upset about it, but they can deal with it.”
“People will be mad?” You asked. The taxi stopped and he took your hand, escorting you out and down the sidewalk toward the small store near your home.
“Yeah,” He said. “A lot of people get that I have a normal life outside of my side job, but some people can be obsessive. Usually, they just wait until next season opens up and book all of my openings they can afford, but some get personal. I block the ones that are too aggressive or start trying to get too close.”
“Too close?”
“Trying to find out who I am and where I live,” He replied.
“That happens?” You asked, alarmed.
“It’s only happened twice. One of them got the hint when I got angry and I didn’t hear from them again. The second one I had to call the police on. I still have a restraining order out against her.”
“Jesus,” You responded. “I didn’t realize it was so… dangerous.”
“It usually isn’t,” He said off-handedly. “That’s the beauty of anonymity and the internet. But I am a rare breed, so it’s easy for people to match my face in real life if they really dig. I mean, you did, right? I have a VPN and pretty hardcore protections on my computer that prevent hacking it remotely, but people can be persistent.”
“That’s… scary,” You said, frowning.
“Don’t worry,” He said, flexing his arms and stomach muscles. “I can handle just about anything.”
“Just about,” You echoed under your breath, and followed him into the store.
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curly-bangtan · 4 years
Text
Heatwave Drabble #9: sweet night (M)
[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- must read first!
Pairing: Taehyung x reader
Summary: After a series of miscommunications and immaturity that lead to a rip through both your friendship and ambiguous relationship, this last turn of events could be the deciding factor of whether or not you’ve lost each other from your lives forever.
Genre: angst, smut, fwb au, roommate au, f2l
Warnings: SO much angst and feels, slight slow burner and a lot of build up, unprotected sex, hot tub, oral (m&f), food play, crying, i don’t want to give too much away eeee
Word count: 23.8k a monster i know ;-;
A/N: The end is finally here!! It’s late but trust me when I say I worked all day on this and did not do an ounce of revision today because I wanted to get this done. I’ve been writing this series, and this ending in particular, for so long and have been so nervous about getting this perfect. So please enjoy~
(quite a few ppl also couldn’t be tagged from the taglist and it’s 3am so i honestly dk how to fix it ;-;)
.
You used to think heartbreak was for the weak, after all you can only hurt as much as you let yourself be hurt. So... maybe you are weak. Because that ever-constricting ache in your chest has not diminished even a bit since that day you left him.
Four weeks. Not a word to each other.
It’s a hollowing feeling - someone you’ve had in your life every day for the past few years, a constant companion, suddenly completely absent in a blink of an eye. You don’t think you could put it into words even if you tried how this affected you. Life feels so foreign, your personality dulls.
The anger you felt for him dissipated quicker than you’d anticipated, but the anger at yourself only grew. No matter how you look at it now, you can only see it as being your fault.
But the decision to part ways was for the best, you have to keep reminding yourself. You shouldn’t be around each other anymore.
Whenever you see him around campus, you spin around and speed off the other way, hoping that he doesn’t see you too. Okay, you are weak, okay. But your heart twists at the sign of him, not just squeezes but twists into thorned knots. It’s the sort of pain that takes from you, makes you a different person unrecognisable to yourself.
You had moved in with Lotta. When she asked you what happened, all you had said was that you two had a massive fight and fell out. She knew better than to prod further from the telltale signs that you were close to tears from a simple question: the trembling throat, pursed lips, uncharacteristically quiet voice. And you were grateful because you knew you couldn’t afford to be asked about him without breaking.
The bed feels awfully cold in the nights of early February. And every night, you stare at his name on the screen of your phone, contemplating. One tap and you can hear his voice. One tap and your longing could be absolved. You always almost give in to this overpowering urge itching within your fingers. But you wouldn’t even know what to say to him.
Hi. How are you. I miss you like crazy and I think about you everyday but I know we should keep our distance but I’m just so sorry for everything.
You liked to think that maybe this break is just temporary, you both need space from each other because the toxicity built up so quickly that neither of you could think or breathe. But the longer time is spent away from him, the more you convince yourself that it wasn’t meant to be. It was never going to work; you knew this from the start but had been too optimistic.
And the mistakes you both made… You can’t forget them and the scars you’ve left on each other; you don’t think he’d be able to forgive you, not any time soon anyway.
You wonder if he’s doing the same, if he too is agonising over every wrong step he took to lead you two to this state, or if he’s cursing you for destroying everything. For his sake, you hope he’s moving on. Because that, for some reason, feels so much better than knowing that he’s crying over you.
The strange thing is that you had been the one to break things off. The look of lostness in his red-rimmed eyes laced with an unmissable reluctance will always be an enigma to you. Because he was furious, distraught. So why was he shocked by your ending? How was he not done with you?
That day you left, he wordlessly stood next to you as you packed your things. When you handed him his grey hoodie, the one you had gradually claimed as your own under mutual tacit agreement over your months together, it had truly felt like the end.
“Are... Are you sure? I don’t mind if you keep it.” He had said, voice raw from the arguing but also the tears he was fighting back.
You couldn’t look at him, you knew you would fall apart if you did. “I think it’s best if you take it back.” Why did he want you to keep it anyway?
Something was missing in both your voices when you spoke to each other, reflective of the heart-shaped void you had carved into the other. Everytime you think back to that moment, you want to kick yourself. You could have at least kept the hoodie - that way you could at least have a piece of him to cling onto in your lonely desperate nights.
Because now you have nothing. Nothing of his in your life, no reminder at all that he ever existed with you except the memories embedded so deeply in your heart that it hurts.
No one ever mentions him to you; you think they got the hint from Lotta not to. He’s a ghost.
Haunting you with his heartbroken eyes that shattered at the sight of Jimin. You’ll never forget that.
Sometimes, you’ll just be having dinner with her, and you’ll be crushed with this suffocating wave of missing him. It knocks the breath out of you. Because you can momentarily forget that it’s over, and mistaken Lotta as him. So when you look up and realise that it isn’t him, he’s not here, it’s as if someone is digging their nails into your scabbing wound and releasing the blood of your heartache once more.
And Lotta would look up and ask you, “What? Is the rice overcooked?” And you would want to cry because he would always overcook the rice.
And sometimes, you would just want to blurt it all out to her, right then and there. Tell her everything that had happened with you and him, because - god - keeping it inside is exhausting. But the words get trapped at your throat, unable to be enunciated. Which is just your forte, isn’t it? Not being able to say how you feel...
You are a competitive person, that has never been a secret. You are used to winning at everything you wish to win at, it is in your nature.
So losing Taehyung has been the biggest loss of your life. It had been a gamble from the start, whether it would work or not. There were so many signs pointing in the direction of yes, this is going to work, you love each other so much. Because still to this day, you believe that you are soulmates, and you were one step, three words, away from a happy ending. But then, caught up in this game you played, you hadn’t realised that he had been yours from the very start if you had only just accepted him. And that was your downfall: your failure to see his love for you in the form of his actions, rather than the words of validation you were seeking.
And thus, you had lost your lover, your best friend, your other half, completely of your own doing.
The realisation haunts you every night.
.
It’s Galentine’s Day. In this household, you don’t say the V word.
Lotta has booked a weekend trip to celebrate your mutual [forever alone] relationship status. Some strawberry farm in the countryside for friends to pick berries and make jam and bond over their mutual loneliness. Apparently that’s a thing nowadays.
It would have excited you before, a trip like this. The idea sounds much like a sweet attempt from her to cheer you up, (you haven’t been trying to hide how down you’ve been), so as much as you wanted to just wallow on this shitty holiday, you agreed to go with her.
And to be honest, this might be exactly what you need. A weekend away with your best friend away from the city could heal you. Best friend? Should you call her that? You’re not sure because that title has always referred to someone else previously, someone you shouldn’t be thinking about.
To your credit, you’ve been doing better. You think about him less and less each day; you stopped crying after the first week. You’ve always been a progressor with astounding growth. It’s not to say that you’re doing fine - that would be a reach - because small things such as a cup of hot chocolate would still remind you of him and the string of memories that come with it. But you think your heart is finally slowly starting to stitch itself back together.
Galentine’s weekend just so happened to fall on the weekend of Lotta’s Geophysics trip to Barcelona, as inconvenient as it is. But, rather than letting this disrupt her plans, Lotta had been adamant about going.
“My flight lands at 7am. That’s two hours before we are supposed to meet and depart from the coach station. That’s plenty of time.” She had waved away your concern when this topic of discussion came up last week.
“You never know with flight timings. We could just blow it off and have just as nice of a weekend at home watching movies.” Strawberry picking sounds great for the soul, but so does Netflix and ice cream. “We could have a Saw marathon like we’ve been wanting to.”
“Saw marathon on Valentine’s day?” Lotta scoffed at your suggestion
You blinked. “What’s wrong with that? We love scary films, it’s our thing.”
“It doesn’t matter, I’ve already paid for the trip and it’s non-refundable.”
“I’ll subsidise the cost, there’s no point forcing this trip if it won’t work with your schedule. You haven’t even let me pay you back for my half of the trip yet.” Lotta is like that with money, overly generous when completely unasked for. If you don’t mention paying her back, she would never have asked you to.
“It’s my treat to you, shut up. Just trust me, Y/N, I’ll make it to the coach on time, I always make it on time.” She shook you by the shoulders. “We’ll make our separate ways to the meeting point Saturday morning and everything else will go smoothly. There’s no reason to cancel the trip. Plus, V day is on Sunday, so do you really want to see all those shitty ass rom-com Netflix suggestions or would you rather be enjoying the great outdoors? Trust, we need a break in the countryside. It’s going to be an amazing weekend, you’ll thank me later.”
Right now, as you make a final check through your lightly-packed bag before you leave the house, you find yourself agreeing. You do need the fresh naturally strawberry-scented air to expel all these negativity from you. You want to feel yourself again, be happy and loud and excitable.
Collecting for your trip ticket that Lotta had left on your desk before she went to Barcelona, you decide right now that: yes, this will be an amazing weekend. Law of attraction and power of manifestation. Lotta’s flight will be punctual and you will make some fond memories together.
You’ll be okay.
You arrive at the meeting spot twenty minutes early because you are known to be prone to tardiness. The tour guide welcomes you keenly. He is a young, twenty-something you reckon, tall man, graced with dimples and honey skin. You think you would find him attractive in different circumstances, but you haven’t gotten to the stage of feeling attraction for anyone else yet.
“Your ticket with the barcode, miss?” His smile is charming, you guess. It’s more an observation than an enticing quality. You hand it over to him wordlessly and watch him scan the creased piece of paper. “Great, that’s perfect. And your partner?”
“Partner?” You frown, but realise what he means. This is a Galentine’s programme, of course he expects you not to be alone. “Oh, she should be coming, we came separately because she’s just getting off a flight right now.”
“Oh! That’s very sweet of her to rush back to spend this weekend with you.” The endearment in his smile heightens.
“Yeah… She’s the best.” There’s no particular reason for your awkwardness. You’ve always been a social butterfly, yet lately, you’re keeping more to yourself, avoiding unnecessary conversations because your mind is always too preoccupied.
“I am Jae, by the way, and I’ll be your guide for the weekend. I hope you have a wonderful time with us this Valentine's day. Hop on board.” Giving him a polite nod, you climb onto the empty bus, noting the swirly hearts beside the large red words ‘STRAWBERRY LOVE’ on the side of the big white vehicle. Kind of tacky, but the idea of this programme is kind of cute so you guess it’s suiting. After assessing row after row, you plop down at a window seat you deem worthy and settle your bag on the seat beside you, head leaning on the glass as you await your partner.
Dear partner, please don’t be late, you text her.
Soon, other participants of this trip start arriving, filing a crooked queue in front of the tour guide to register. You don’t pay much attention to them except to examine for Lotta’s face. The coach is set to leave at 9:00 on the dot in order to arrive at the farm at noon, it is now 8:56 and Lotta is still not here. You don’t want to lose faith in manifestation magic, but worry is settling in. If it comes down to it, you will beg Jae to wait for you. With your texts unread, you decide to phone her.
Come on… Just let this one weekend go smoothly for you.
Nervously playing with the ends of your hair, you exhale in relief when she picks up. “Oh thank god, Lotta. Where are you? The coach is leaving in like two minutes. You’ve landed right? I’m not sure if I can convince the people to wait for you that long but worse comes to worse, I could ask for the address of the farm and you can commute there yourself. ” A silence replies after your slur of panicked words. “Hello? Dude, hurry.”
“Wait, so he’s not there yet?” She asks hesitantly.
“Who? The tour guide? No, he’s here. Where are you?” Just then you hear a thunder of running footsteps. Expectantly, you look out the bus window for your friend’s arrival, only to find…
“Wait, Lotta… What the fuck did you do?” Something drops in your stomach.
“Look Y/N, don’t be mad. This is for your own good, you need this.” You can practically hear her stealthy smile through the phone.
An icy chill strikes down your spine. You simply cannot believe what you are seeing out the window. She-
“Lotta…”
“Trust me, okay? You have been so fucking depressed the past month. You need to fix this problem, please. I hate seeing you like this, so if not for yourself, then do it for me.” There’s some guilt in her tone, you’ll give her that. But you are in a state of utter disbelief, borderline shell-shocked, the groves of your brain tangled in itself.
“Lotta, where are you? Are you even fucking coming?” Absolute mortification fills your chest to the brim at your gradual realisation of her ploy.
This can’t be happening.
“I promise, this is all for your own good. Please have a great weekend. I love you. Bye!” And with that she hangs up, leaving you wide-eyed, jaw-dropped, staring out the window...
At a panting, slightly sweat-beaded Taehyung handing his crumpled ticket to Jae.
“Made it just in time, mate.” You can just about make out Jae’s words from the shape of his mouth as he greets Taehyung and proceeds to recite his ‘I’m your tour guide for the trip’ speech. Taehyung nods interestedly, reciprocating with that sheepish smile of his as he scratches the back of his bedhead.
What did your best friend do? Did she just… set you up…? As you hear his loud unmissable steps stomping up onto the coach, you know you’re doomed. It’s over for you. You might as well fling yourself off a cliff.
Looking around the bus, you realise that it of course is completely full except for the seat beside you.
The power of manifestation is fucking bullshit. You’re stuck with this bad luck for the rest of your life.
And this weekend, you’re going to die.
You see him as a blur at the start of the aisleway, a mere figure in swatches of peach and brown and black. You hear pounding, a booming pulse in your ear.
It’s Taehyung. Taehyung. Your, but also not your, Taehyung.
Each step he takes approaching the only available seat he sees, you shrink lower in yours and keep your eyes pressed shut, but for what reason you’re not entirely sure. There’s no hiding now.
Your confrontation is inevitable, a few steps away. Then he finally sees you.
“Y-Y/N?”
Your heart soars to your throat at the sound of his voice as everything around you vanishes. This can’t be real.
Slowly, you turn up to face him. When your eyes meet, it’s like someone has driven a sharp object into your chest and twisted. His face is exactly how you remember, but also not quite. His big brown eyes are wide with surprise in a pitiful expression of bewilderment. His sleep rumpled hair, grown out to almost cover his eyes, yet still very much permed in the style you loved. His lips are jutting out, slightly parted in confusion at your unexpected presence that reminds you of how it felt to kiss him.
And the look of disgust that you had expected - absent.
You want to throw your arms around him. There is always a warmth emitting from Taehyung - the kind of warmth you feel when you enter your house on a snow ridden day and the gust of heat accompanied by the smell of home simply swallows you like a wave. But there is also something different, unfamiliar almost, about him. He is rougher round the edges, hints of facial hair dotted below his nose, dressed in slacks that he only usually wore strictly as pyjamas and never to go outside in.
As your eyes fall to the rest of him, you notice his fists tighten around the straps of his backpack, the balls of his knuckles whitening.
“Taehyung-” Saying his name feels like a release. A rush of satisfaction at the way the syllables roll off your tongue so naturally, then a flood of emotion that comes with all the memories his name invokes.
Then you’re at a loss for words again. You are so utterly unprepared for this situation because you didn’t think you would meet him again so soon, not until you’ve moved on. You’re not ready to face him.
What do you say? How are you meant to act around him?
He looks equally as lost, though you read him easily. There’s a flash of hurt in his eyes, the same that you’re sure you had. But it dissolves much quicker with him, almost into relief and content as if he’s glad to see you.
You know from the slight downward angle his brows are pointing that he has definitely missed you. Perhaps in a completely different way from you missing him, but he’s missed you.
“If I could just have everybody's attention!” Jae’s voice booms from the speaker, startling every passenger. “Young man over there, please be seated.” You quickly snatch your bag into your lap to let Taehyung sit next to you. The seats aren’t the most spacious; despite pressing your side against the window as much as you can, Taehyung’s shoulder comes brushing past yours as he settles into his own seat. Your heart flutters. “As all our participants are now present, our ride will begin immediately. The duration of the ride will be three hours, but a pitstop will be made at around halfway for a quick snack or toilet break. Please ensure all seatbelts are fastened during the entirety of our journey...” He drones on.
Three hours, you bristle. Everything is happening all at once and your mind can’t catch up. You’re going to be stuck on this coach for three hours next to Taehyung. No, worse. You’re stuck with Taehyung for this whole weekend in a strawberry farm.
Glancing over, his lips are pressed into a thin line, no doubt with the same chaotic thoughts racing through his mind. There isn’t much leg room, and though his thighs are purposely clamped together to avoid touching you, you know he can’t keep them clamped this tightly for three hours without cramping. Your legs are going to touch at some point.
God, why are you even losing your mind over something so juvenile? You’ve been reduced to a pre-teen girl so easily flustered by the thought of touching thighs amidst this turn of events.
Everything is gonna be okay, you tell yourself. This is gonna be fine. You don’t have to speak to each other. Just put in your earphones and fall asleep against the window.
But you have so many questions, for Lotta, for Taehyung. Did she plan this? How did she know that he’d be here? Hell, did he know you’d be here? No, there’s no way. The shock on his face was genuine.
He stares ahead, though visibly extremely puzzled. You suppress the urge to glance over at him every second to check that it’s really him.
“Thank you everyone for joining us so promptly. As you already know, I am Jae and I will be the guide to your trip to our beautiful strawberry farm over this Valentine’s weekend.” You pause. Right, this is a Valentine’s weekend trip, you had momentarily forgotten. And you’re stuck with Taehyung here. Two days, two nights. You’re not sure if you could withstand his presence for that long. Will you ignore each other for the entirety of this trip? You would be fine with that, and in all honesty, you think you might prefer it over speaking to him because that would only sprinkle salt on your wound.
A sharp pain in your palm reminds you that you’ve been gripping onto the programme leaflet that was handed to you. You smooth out the creases of the paper and flip it open to skim through what you have to tackle ahead of you.
Day 1: Go strawberry picking with your partner at our scenic farm in the lovely spring weather while the sun is out. A heavenly spa awaits you afterwards to wind down and indulge together. For an amorous evening, go stargazing under our cloudless skies...
Alarm bells start ringing immediately, from the cursive font of the strangely-worded phrases, to the shades of reds and pinks of the background. You skim further down the page, the kernel of anxiety growing exponentially at your throat.
Day 2: Make delicious strawberry jam and learn our signature recipe for a splendid strawberry tart. When dusk falls, enjoy a romantic candlelit dinner with your partner amidst the symphonies of our string quartet.
Fuck. Wait, what the fuck.
You flip back to the front page.
Strawberry Love: The Perfect Couple’s Romantic Getaway Valentine’s Weekend
Strawberry… Love…
“What the fucking shit?” You can’t help but cry out loud. Lotta- She-
The passengers of the bus all turn to shoot you at look of concern at your outburst, Taehyung included. His eyes dart around the features of your face to search for an answer. “What’s wrong?”
What’s wrong… What’s wrong…? What isn’t wrong at this point?
You feel defeated, absolutely fucking defeated that you don’t even have it in your to be shocked or angry. There is no way you can ignore him for the whole weekend when the programme of your trip - a couple’s Valentine’s trip - obligates you to spend time with him. The thought of making stupid little strawberry tarts with Taehyung… Your blood can’t even boil, you’re just fucking speechless.
Lotta, that conniving genius that is your best friend. How did she manage to pull this all off? Galentine’s trip your fucking ass. She tricked you into a romantic holiday with Taehyung, fucking hell...
But that means - she knows. The mortification hammers into your stomach. There’s no reason for her to do this other than for the purpose of getting you two to make up. Lotta fucking knew about you and Taehyung.
How? For how long? And why does she think that this will benefit you in any way? You and Taehyung are over and you were slowly (fine, excruciatingly slowly) moving on. Until now.
Letting out a huff of your frustration, you turn to look at Taehyung, properly look him in the eye for the first time. You can’t stop your chest from constricting. He regards you with that confused expression of his, eyes holding your glare but barely just, bashful from your sudden undivided attention channeled towards him. “I need to know what you’re doing here first.” It comes out harsher than you mean for it to, but it stems from your desperation to stay inert while your emotional sanity is precariously threatened right now.
“Me? I… Well, Lotta told me that she had a ticket for this weekend-trip to a strawberry farm type thing that she couldn’t go to anymore, so she asked if I wanted to go in her place because she knows that I like strawberries.” He furrows his brows. “Okay, that sounds really stupid out loud but I swear I didn’t know that you were gonna be here.” He throws his hands up, nothing but honesty flooding his chocolate eyes.
But of course, Taehyung doesn’t lie, you are sure from the times you’ve witnessed him not being able to muster up an excuse to get rid of an annoying relative on the phone. What’s more convincing of his truth is that he would not be the most difficult person to fall victim to Lotta’s scheme - drizzle in mentions of food and he is completely your pawn. You almost feel bad for this unsuspecting fool; he still has no idea.
But Lotta, that sly bitch… You are going to wrangle her when you get back.
“Taehyung… She lied to you.” You sigh, watching his features slowly contort in deeper confusion.
“Wait what? So we’re not going to a strawberry farm?” He sits up in alarm, looking around the bus as if that would grant him any insight whatsoever. You almost laugh at his naivety because as much as you want to uphold your cold exterior, something about him, his ever present innocent boyishness maybe, never fails to penetrate through to you.
“No, that’s not what I meant. She lied to me too; she told me that this would be a girl’s trip because we’re both single and bitter for Valentine’s. Get it? It was just a setup. For you and me.”  As the clockwork finally turns as he processes your words, a visibly distressed grimace forms. “Look at the programme, Taehyung, it freaking says: Strawberry Love: The Perfect Couple’s Romantic Getaway Valentine’s Weekend!”
As those words resonate from your mouth and the realisation finally dawns on him, dread settles itself in the pit of your stomach, cold, dry and coarse. Saying it aloud somehow finalises it - this is actually happening, you’re going to have to spend this weekend with the one person you’d least like to be stranded with right now.
“Lotta… But why would she…?” Deep red roses effloresce across the apples of his cheeks, and you feel yourself unconsciously mirroring his reaction as your mind flashes back to the planned activities of this tour. You’ll be made to pick berries and bake pastries together. And the romantic candlelit dinner… You can’t even finish that thought. Because even now, you find your eyes roaming every inch of his face, trying to memorise his details because it’s been so long.
This isn’t healthy for your heart. You were on a path of recovery, a path of forgetting him and forgiving yourself, and now you’ve been flung back to square one.
The bus jolts. His leg lightly knocks into yours and both your attentions momentarily divert to the touch, glaring at where the thick grey material of his joggers meets the thin cotton of your trousers. A long second passes before Taehyung lifts it away from you.
“I don’t know why she’d do this. All I told her was that we had a massive falling out.” You mutter. Except you do know, you know her very well. This was no mistake, but the result of careful planning. She knew exactly what she was doing.
“So maybe she’s trying to get us to reconcile?”
As soon as those words come out, you both seem to freeze in your spots, blinking in bewilderment at the slightest mention of the elephant in the room. It might be wishful thinking but you hear a sliver of hope in his question, and you think he hears how it came out too.
Reconcile.
Could the two of you reconcile after everything you put each other through in your last few days together? The thought tears you apart emotionally. Of course you want to reconcile, of course you want to be with him. But haven’t you proven enough that what you had didn’t work? Afterall, everything you had together came crumbling down at the smallest hitch in your path. What is there to reconcile but a dysfunctional relationship?
And how could either of you forget the torment you endured? The noises of Taehyung with another woman through the thin walls, your betrayal of his heart when you mistakenly slept with Jimin.
Reconciliation doesn’t seem possible in the foreseeable future.
“N-not reconcile in that way, I mean, like, for us to make up.” Taehyung stammers, hand waving about in his nervous state. “I mean- no, not make up, but like… make… peace. Yeah, make peace. Sorry.” He winces timorously at his spectacular fumble of words. It’s surprising how nervous and timid he is acting. He should be brutish to you, savage and hostile. But he isn’t.
“Yeah, I got what you mean… Don’t worry.” You can’t stop the corners of your lips from turning up, just a fraction. “But yeah, I think she wants us to make peace.” You conveniently do not bring up how you’re certain that she knows about your history and that this holiday she booked for you and Taehyung is most definitely for the purpose of reconciliation in that way.
“Right.” His bottom lip pinched between his teeth in a manner that makes it feel as though it’s a sight you shouldn’t be looking at, Taehyung’s attention shifts down to avoid your eye. Though, there’s a clear glimmer of expectation as he asks, “So… do you want to talk it out?”
The bus bounces, violently this time, as it drives over what must be a pebble. It rattles your thoughts so physically that you have to grip onto your trousers for support.
This is the deciding moment. Now is when you can choose how you go about this which will determine the rest of your weekend together.
Do you want to talk it out?
The painful memory of the last time you had tried to “talk it out” rakes its claws down your back. All the yelling, the hurtful accusations hurled both ways, the reluctance to accept blame… It haunts you so much so that your voices still ring in your mind, echoes embedding the misery you had both felt and inflicted deep in your bones.
The three stages of your fight painted clairvoyantly in your mind.
One: The Hurting Each Other.
You fuck guys without learning their names.
Two: The Guilt-Tripping.
I didn’t sleep with her. I couldn’t even kiss her for more than a minute on her bed because it felt so wrong it made me fucking sick. I stayed on her couch and thought about you all fucking night. Happy?
Three: The Falling Apart
I… I thought it was clear how I felt…
Always replaying in a loop.
“I’m not sure what there is to talk out.” You say, hating how callous you sound but knowing that it’s a necessary evil to convey your intent. That was in the past. Taehyung is your past. Talking about it would only drag you back into that perpetual cycle and there’s not much left in you to afford that. You look out the window at the open plains of grassland to avoid the hurt you know he can’t hide on his face. “I think it’s better if we keep our distance as much as possible and not make it difficult for ourselves.”
“Okay.” You hear him reply, but only a quiet mumble. From the faint reflection of the window, you see him tighten his jaw and fit his Airpods into his ears. The monster that is your guilt and bitterness sinking its fangs into your throat.
It’s better this way.
And so the bus continues to speed off to the countryside, driving you further and further from civilization and your chance of escape from this doomed weekend with the boy you’re trying to stop loving.
.
You wake up to someone gently shaking your shoulders. “Miss…” You jolt upright.
The first thing that elucidates in your sleep-fogged vision is your tour guide’s kind face smiling down at you. The second, when you come to your senses, is that you are leaning against Taehyung’s frame, his shoulders much harder than you remember them to be. The boy himself is fast asleep beside you, arm loosely linked with yours because you know he has a habit of holding things in his sleep. You hastily pull away.
“We’ve arrived, Miss.” Jae says politely, that humoured glow in his pupils eliciting a bashful blush from you.
“Oh right.” You look around to find the coach empty except for the three of you. “That’s embarrassing, I’m sorry.” The last thing you remember was the angry texts you spammed Lotta with before the songs in your playlist all blurred into one.
“No worries. Forgive me, I’m still learning names.” The heat of the sun is seeping through the glass of the windowpane, licking tenderly at your skin to rouse you awake. “I’ve tried to wake your partner, but it seems...”
“I’m Y/N. And don’t worry, he’s impossible to wake up.” You pause. There is a chance for you to rectify his misconception that you and Taehyung are a couple, except it would probably require some explaining or white-lying and now is not a great time if you’re holding up the whole group. “I’ll do it.”
Despite the conversation being had right over him, Taehyung shows no sign of his slumber being disturbed. His head is tipped back, mouth hanging open with a small dribble of drool beading at the corner of his mouth. Still the same deep-sleeping idiot.
“Oi.” You nudge his ribcage, scaring Jae with your coarseness. “Wake up, Taehyung.”
Nothing but heavy breathing.
“Dude, we’re here.” You grab his face between your harsh fingers and begin shaking vigorously.
Not even a stir. You remember how you used to like to joke that Taehyung could sleep through a burglary, and just to prove your point, you woke up in the middle of the night one time and screamed at the top of your lungs. He did not even move a toe.
“Uh-” There is a hint of worry in Jae’s face; perhaps he thinks that Taehyung has a health condition.
“It’s okay, I’ve got the trick.” This time, you pinch his nose with considerable force and clamp your palm over his mouth, ignoring the smoothness of his skin under your touch and the feeling of his lips skimming your palm. You glance up to find Jae’s eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, swaying uneasily at your method to wake him. “Don’t worry, it works every time.”
But true to your word, in a few seconds, Taehyung is sputtering for breath, eyes flying open in befuddlement, scrambling to sit up. You let go of his nose and smile at your tour guide only to find him petrified.
“What?” In disarray, Taehyung wipes at the corner of his mouth and pats his hair back down from its messy temperment. His heavy body no longer slumped against yours, you feel a weight lifted off your chest, though the fact that you had fallen asleep on each other plays at your mind, lingering to taunt you.
“We’ve arrived.” Jae winces.
You stare at the patterned seats of the coach, trying not to pay attention to Taehyung’s embarrassed apology and explanation on what a deep sleeper he is. You’re not going to think about Taehyung and sleeping. Mindlessly, you trail behind the banter men off the vehicle. You’re not going to think about how good it feels to sleep beside him.
The sun greeting you when you step foot onto ground instantly refreshes your mood, banishing away those thoughts that were slipping through the cracks. There’s something so healing about the air of the countryside, fresh and unpolluted and full of the pleasant crisp scent that one would associate with green and yellow. Staring back at you is a seemingly endless field of bushes dotted with red, the sweet berry smell already perfusing into your nose.
You ignore the crunch of gravel sounding from Taehyung’s steps not far from you and proceed to join the waiting crowd, their phones out to capture the stunning scenery.
As everyone gathers, it’s difficult to concentrate on Jae’s briefing of the weekend planned ahead, starting with an introduction to the farm which you frankly do not care to learn about. You try not to glance over at Taehyung at the corner of your eye, at how his hair is still sticking out awkwardly in the back, his eyes slightly swollen from sleep. You try not to notice his hesitancy, standing a distance from you despite everyone else standing in their couples.
It’s like a buzzing in the back of your mind, a constant tug at your consciousness, not allowing you to relax as much as you want to in this serene environment. You want to stop thinking about him but you can’t.
“In February, the weather is set to be nice and warm during the day and slightly chilly in the evenings, so I do hope that you have packed sufficiently as stated in the email. Now, if you look to your left...” Jae’s monologue drones on like white noise, because all you can focus on is not focusing on Taehyung.
Lotta has not replied to your hounding messages with anything of use, no answers to your plethora of questions. Just relax. Stop making such a big deal out of it, grow up and make up with him because you clearly aren’t over him. You wanted to tell her that things are not that simple, she doesn’t know how badly you both fucked up. Yet, you know her response would only be some pretentiously worded reply full of the condescending wisdom it always contains when she’s telling you off.
You’ll admit it, as stubborn as you are, Lotta’s advice is right 9 times out of 10. She was right when she said you shouldn’t have gone with Taehyung to Mykonos within two weeks of knowing him because he could have been a killer or psychopath. She was right when she pointed out that you act like Taehyung annoys the living shit out of you but you secretly care deeply for him.
But she’s definitely not right this time, you are adamant about it. It would be a miracle if you and Taehyung could even be friends within the next six months, let alone… And if anything were to happen, setting you two up on a romantic holiday together is certainly the wrong way to go about it. It feels so inorganic, like you’re forced to spend time with each other.
Out of habit, you steal a glance at him. It’s not a surprise to find him not paying an ounce of attention to Jae either. Taehyung is staring off into the strawberry field, face angled away from you such that the sunlight is hitting his skin in all the right places to glaze a golden aura over him.
It’s strange to see such a permanent sadness in his eyes, a melancholic nostalgia. You hate yourself - you did this to him, you broke him. Does he hate you? Resent you? You think you’d rather he did.
Soon, the group of you are whisked away down a pebbly path to a rustic looking hotel beside the farm where you will all stay in. It’s not the old run-down type of rustic, but more the luxurious kind that very evidently serves an aesthetic purpose. And that’s when you begin to notice, this “farm” is not really a farm at all, but more a boujee farm-themed resort. This trip could certainly not have been cheap. As much as you are here against your will, you can’t help but feel immense gratitude to Lotta for her willingness to spend such money on you.
You are stopped at a grand lobby, the style of which resembling a small piazza of Southern Italy - warm neutral-toned Roman concrete walls with a green flourish of vines and bushes. It’s absolutely stunning, a surreal setting that you only see in movies. It’s impossible not to feel the air of romance circulating this architecture. You glance over to find him, stood an awkwardly respectful distance away from you, gaping around at the interior of the building in awe. He is a sucker for art, especially architecture. You almost wish you were friends again only to hear him gush about the beauty of this place.
When Jae begins to hand out room keys, it suddenly occurs to you, perhaps the worst aspect of your predicament this weekend - you are sharing a room with Taehyung.
You are sharing a…
Heart sinking, you look over again to see if the same thought has dawned on him. It has. His eyes are fixed on Jae in an eerily blank way, his jaw tense, a single bead of sweat trickling down the side of his forehead which you will excuse as the heat.
When Jae approaches you, Taehyung automatically joins your side in a dazed worry. Eye contact made was brief, not enough for you two to communicate whether or not you tell Jae that this was all a mistake and you would much rather be apart.
“Here you go, Y/N.” Your guide flashes you that charming grin of his as he waves your keycards before you. Instinctively, you receive it in your palm. “You guys have got the deluxe suite - wonderful choice.”
“We-” You begin, but he doesn’t seem to take notice. You’re starting to notice that he perhaps likes the sound of his own voice a bit too much.
“As I said, strawberry-picking will start at half past so that gives you a bit of time to drop off your luggage and freshen up after the long ride.” He continues. This will probably be the only chance you get to tell him that you and Taehyung aren’t a couple before it becomes too late, and you’re going to miss this opportunity because of another one of his monologues. The desperate itch in your chest grows an uncomfortable size. “Please meet here at the reception on time. And as for your luggage - oh, I see you two are lightly-packed. Low maintenance, my favourite type of people. In that case, your room is on the ground floor, if you follow that lovely couple down that corridor over there.”
And just like that, he smiles, retracts his extended arm pointing towards the direction of your room and turns to guide another couple.
“Wai-” You call after him weakly, but he has once again launched into the same speech he’d recited to you to a new audience.
And there goes your chance of rectifying this weekend.
You stand there for a good minute, mind trying to piece together how, just how, you will manage to survive this weekend. Taehyung is quiet beside you, equally as baffled at what to do.
“Should we head to our room then…” He mutters after too long a moment of unmoving stature. “I kinda want to change into some lighter clothes and we don’t have that long.”
You nod without looking at him. Because you can’t stand looking at his face right now, the face that you’ll be stuck with for these two days, the face that you love.
Silence between you now grows more familiar as you walk wordlessly to your room, the round corner of the plastic keycard digging hard into your palm. It’s painfully awkward. Your echoing steps provide the only stable rhythm against the storm between you.
Beep. The door opens at your will with a swipe of the card.
You weren’t prepared for what exactly the deluxe room entails. Its size could easily be a tiny studio apartment: a small seating area consisting of a pearly white sofa and a glass coffee table so delicately built that you would not trust yourself near; a mini-kitchen on the left side of the room accompanied by a generously stocked beverage bar; a king-sized bed in the far right wine-red in colour and excessively buried in frivolous cushions. But the belle of the ball is really the glass panelled-wall at the back of the room that you face as you enter, spanning from ceiling to floor, opening up to the patio hand-plucked out of your dreams. Rose bushes, circular beige woven garden daybed, and not to mention the hot tub.
You are completely in awe. Your mind instantly flashes to Mykonos. This luxury is the furthest from a farm experience whatsoever. It really explains how every couple on this trip looks like the child of a wealthy politician with their finely manicured hands and sickly cologne.
“Woah.” An octave deeper than usual, Taehyung expresses his wonder as he surveys the extravagance that is your room. “This… How much must this have cost?”
“I have no idea.” You whisper, still in your state of near speechlessness while your feet take you to the glass wall.
This is a place of romantic films, a place for honeymoons. Everything is in a rose-gold tint, glistening almost mockingly under the soft February sun. Why are you here? You almost hear the slabs of sandstone ask.
Behind you, you hear him huff out the marvel that he is submerged in. His backpack slides off his shoulder, swung carelessly towards the loveseat. And plop he goes, starfished onto the bed.
Then the fear returns, reclaims its usual residence in your throat. As you pry your eyes away from the opulence of the veranda to look at Taehyung, his head lifts up at the same moment. The short-lived mist that clouded over your reality finally disperses.
You blink again at his sprawled out limbs. He blinks back.
It is as if a switch has flipped, the speed at which he jumps back onto his two feet, fright jarring his mouth agape. “I’llsleeponthesofa.” The slur of his words are unintelligible to your ears, but his display of alarm is almost comical, threatening a smile from the corners of your lips at the hysteria of your situation despite the same alarm you are experiencing.
“What?”
“I’ll sleep on the sofa.” His voice is firmer the second time he says it, tilting his chin up as if to reassure you of his confidence.
“It’s okay, I’ll sleep on the sofa.” You sigh because you know how much Taehyung is bursting to sleep in a king-sized bed. It was his first time in Mykonos, and you had not heard the end of how it was the best sleep he’s had in his lifetime. So imagine him now.
He bristles, a genuine look of offence fleets. “Of course not, I can’t allow that.”
“Why not?” Your tone with him is foreign, lacking the playfulness it once had - just an aloof callousness.
“‘Coz! I’m not gonna let you take the couch while I sleep on this massive bed.” He gestures at the couch for emphasis, letting his arm dangle afterwards. He is less different with you than you are with him, you note.
“You just answered my question with the very statement I was questioning you on.” You cross your arms and lean against the glass, allowing the warmth to bask through your shirt.
Taehyung frowns and mirrors your action, the muscle of his bicep flexing more than usual from the agitation in his motion. “‘Coz you’re a light sleeper. Just stop being stubborn and take the bed.”
You’re not quite sure why, of all things, ‘you’re a light sleeper’ is what moves you. The consideration he still holds for you inhibits any protest you wish to sound.
He cares about you, he clearly still does. Just like how you would willingly give up the bed for him.
God, you don’t want to fucking be here. You wish it didn’t have to be so painful, every single little interaction between you just reminding you again and again of how much you loved and hurt each other.
Taehyung takes your silence as compliance and begins to unpack, ruffling through his bag for a change of cooler clothes with his shoulders tense in discomfort. You know what the mature person in you should say: we can just share the bed. But you can’t think of a single reason why that would be a good idea.
With this Valentine’s trip completely planned for you two, it feels like the universe presenting you with an undeniable temptation. Everything around you is telling you to just get back with him, to give in to your inhibitions and fall back into him. You’ve got the champagne in the cooler, hot tub in the patio, rose petalled bed all laid out in front of you at your disposal. An inner voice chanting make up, make up, make up. Because what’s stopping you?
What’s stopping you is that look on his face when he saw Jimin fixing the back of his shoe beside you as you were walking him out. What’s stopping you is the sound of another girl moaning his name right down the hall from you.
So maybe some could see it as strength for resisting the yearning, for being able to put up a front and speak to him so indifferently. But you see it as weakness, because you still cannot move on.
.
Despite the sun blazing down your back, the cool gust of spring weather eases what otherwise would have been scorching heat. Never would you anticipate that you would be spending this weekend sifting through strawberry bushes to find large red ripe summer fruit, yet here you are. You don’t even think it’s strawberry season.
You’ve never been a country girl, but the dirt feels strangely comforting under your nails. Well, comforting is perhaps not the best word to describe your state of mind right now. As much tranquility as this farm is bringing you, with Taehyung always no more than two metres away from you, you don’t think you could ever relax.
In black sports shorts, plucking his own berries on the other side of the same very row of bushes, sweat trickling along the veins of his neck… Of course your attention is scattered.
Not to mention, you keep catching his shifting eyes. You thought you ought to say something, but what exactly? The awkwardness is prominent as it is.
A heavy exhale. You find a particularly large berry, leaves curling upwards to indicate its ripeness as the strawberry expert (yes, strawberry expert) had taught you. Pluck. And off it goes into your basket.
This is definitely therapeutic. You imagine every strawberry to be your feelings for Taehyung. This one over here shall symbolise his musky scent that you fall asleep to. Pluck. This one, his stupidly attractive perm, so long that even you would tell him to trim it because it’s covering his eyes. Pluck. His eyes… Especially when he’s confused as he makes that wide-eyed puppy dog face, which is very often. Pluck.
You glance up, you can’t help it.
And he’s already looking at you. Caught red-handed, literally red-handed because his hands are somehow stained with strawberry juice. Instantly he whips his head back down at his basket that is rested by his crouching knees, though there is not much in there for him to look at.
“Stop making this weirder than it already is.” He almost jumps when you speak, clearly not expecting any sort of interaction from your end.
Slowly, he glances back up at you, dark wavy fringe swaying from the slow tilt of his head. “I- Sorry, I wasn’t- Um, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
There’s something quite breathtaking about Taehyung under the sun, the way the rays reflect off his honey-tan skin to give an effulgent finish like a marble statue of some Ancient Roman God worshipped by priests and maidens. The coat of sweat gathered at his cupid’s bow could possibly be your undoing.
You love him, despite all the strawberries symbolic of his traits that you were picking.
And you hate yourself for that. You don’t want to feel like this anymore. You’re so sick of this heavily-hearted feeling of being dragged down by your emotions all the fucking time. You want to be able to look at him and feel nothing, look at him and not be intruded by the echoes of that night.
It makes you sick, the thought of him inside someone else. Physically sick to the core.
“Well, you are. So stop looking at me.” You state coldly. You just want to forget everything and let go of him, but his presence is not letting you do so. If being a bitch is what it takes, you’ll gladly be a bitch
“No, you have dirt on your face.”
Embarrassment slams into you like a wave, wielding you to shut your eyes and take a deep breath of humiliation. It’s instant karma for being a bitch. “Oh.” You say, carelessly wiping all over your cheeks with the back of your wrist, more with the intention of hiding the rush of blood to your face than to actually clean. You keep your eyes trained on a tiny pale berry in the bush, hoping that he’ll look away from you.
But he doesn’t. “You’re smearing it.” You look up to find his lips drawn in a tight line in attempt to hide his amusement. Everything is just working out wonderfully for you, isn’t it? Yet before your mind can process it, he rises from his crouch and leans over the short bushes.
When his thumb meets your cheek, it almost sears you. As his eyes are focused on the dirt on your face he’s brushing away, yours are locked on his gaze - gentle, warm, familiar. The collar of his shirt droops low, exposing his chiseled collar bones, protruding so enticingly as if for the sole purpose to catch your attention and remind you that it was one of your favourite places to bury your nose in.
Taehyung’s touch is heartbreakingly gentle; the rest of his fingers come under the side of your jaw for support, though only fleetingly. The whole exchange is brief, the dirt brushed away as swiftly as your relationship had crumpled.
You feel it in your nose first, that overwhelming wave of sadness, and then behind your eyes. You want to cry. You want to cry as he pulls away, as he realises that he has unconsciously acted out of familiarity, as a shyness reaches his eyes when he meets your glare.
It was only a mindless sweep of his thumb on your face, yet its impact is explosive under your skin, reminiscent of a time when such a touch had different implications, elicited a different response.
You quickly blink it away - the tears, but not the heartache. That wretched feeling in your throat does not permit you to thank him, so you just stare at each other, the world around you a mere blur of blues and greens. You watch his chest rise as he sucks in for air, wondering if the same memories are now visiting, no, haunting, him.
You can’t do this because you’re not strong enough. For you whole act of indifference in front of him, your constant resisting against the urge to fall back into him, you’re still not strong enough.
But to your surprise, or perhaps even gratitude, he’s the one who picks up his basket and paces away without another word. You watch the back of his calves, the slosh of his overgrown hair, as he walks away.
.
You stare out the glass door at the patio. It’s dark, you can scarcely see a thing with the lights outside switched off. It acts as a perfect canvas for your imagination, for scenes of your past together to materialise before you.
It’s not been a full day yet, and you already feel so drained. This is impossible. You want to call Lotta to pick you up, but upon deeper consideration, you don’t think you have the heart to. This must have cost her a considerable amount of money to book. She had the full intention that this will bring you and Taehyung back together, yet it is doing everything but. You don’t want to imagine her disappointment when you return in streams of tears.
After the session of strawberry-picking, your baskets were handed over for your fruits to be washed and prepared for your baking class tomorrow. Following that is your free time, when you are left to your own devices, at liberty to roam around the farm, dine at their organic restaurant by the hotel. Taehyung had taken Jae’s recommendation of visiting the spa; you opted to stroll (sulk) about, as far away from him as possible.
It’s unhealthy, this continuous bombardment of thoughts of him. Your month’s worth of progress has reduced to ashes.
Maybe you don’t even actually have feelings for him anymore. It could purely be a deception of the closeness you’ve developed for each other that you mistaken for love. You had spent almost every single day of the past two and a half years together, under the same roof, sharing a bed towards the last few months. It’s the safety and intimacy that your brain associates him with that forbids you from moving on.
Maybe you’re actually over him romantically. But the wanting, the missing him as your best friend still lingers.
The door to your room opens abruptly. Hair damp, Taehyung strolls inside in a white bathrobe and slippers, his clothes bunched up under his arm. Tiny beads of moisture dot the sparse view of his chest you have.
“Oh, you’re here.” He says, his step faltering at your clearly unanticipated presence. Or perhaps the sight of you, staring out into the dark, completely alone in this room is just awfully strange. “I thought you’d be eating at this time.” Eyes dropping to the ground as the door shuts behind him, his movements are clearly timid and weary, an rare expression on Taehyung.
“Not that hungry.” You mutter. “How was…” You ask out of habit, but immediately catch yourself. Quick eye contact before you both look away like docile animals. It’s too late for you to take back the question now anyway. “How was the spa?” And to make it appear that you don’t really care and was just asking out of courtesy, you turn back around to face out to the patio.
Completely unnecessary and petty move, whatever.
Except you see his reflection on the glass from the illuminated room all too well. Visibly easing that you’ve looked away, he plops his clothes down at the end of the bed and trails into the bathroom to fetch a towel for his hair. “Was really nice, they give good massages. You should give it a go at some point.”
“Okay.” He gives his head a good shake before drying with the towel. It feels creepy that he doesn’t know you are watching his reflection, so your eyes drop to your feet. You wonder if his masseuse was female. Not that it matters at all.
“What time are we meant to meet them for stargazing again?” He is speaking a lot - well, relatively. It saddens you that his usual tone of endearment when he would speak to you is now missing. It’s like speaking to a stranger, but worse, a stranger who takes a stab at your heart after every word.
“At 9, so that’s in…” You raise your wrist to find your watch absent from where it usually sits on your wrist. Right, you had removed it before strawberry-picking so it doesn’t get dirty and left it on the coffee table. Just as you turn around to retrieve it, you are met with Taehyung slipping his robe off. Your eyes widen.
The fluffy material glides down his shoulders like he’s made of gold, revealing the sculpture of his upper body that you scarcely recognise because he never used to be this toned. You thank any higher power there is that he is wearing his boxers, but they do nothing to conceal the faintest V at his hips and the bulk of his thighs. He isn’t bursting with muscle, but body definitely more well-defined than you remember.
“Have you been working out?” It just slips out. You wish, as the heat floods to dizzy your mind, that you had the capability of holding your tongue for once in your life.
Taehyung hesitates, Adam’s apple bobbing at his jugular. That shy awkwardness returns when your eyes meet. “Yeah. I mean a little, here and there…” Self-consciously, he brings his arm across his chest to rub at his bicep, but the gesture only flexes the muscle he has gained.
Your knees feel slightly weak. It’s the lack of dinner, you tell yourself. It’s not just your knees that feel weak though, your heart is thumping haphazardly into arrhythmia.
“But you hate exercise.” The stability in your voice surprises you.
“Yeah I did, but Seojoon said it’d help me take my mind off… things.” Lip between his teeth, Taehyung searches around for a top. Sheepishness in the form of a soft pink tint on his round cheeks turns you soft.
‘Things’, meaning you.
When you realise you’ve been staring, you immediately look down, fingers fiddling with each other like you’re some virgin freshly exposed to the spectacle of the male body. You’re anything but yourself, and so is he. Taehyung exercising? You almost scoff.
“You don’t have to… You’ve seen me naked, you know.” Taehyung mumbles, finally locating the sweatshirt he intends to wear. When you hear him pull it over himself, you sag in relief, the immense weight that his starkness strangely bestowed on you finally alleviated.
“Yeah, but it’s different now.” Now that we’re not together anymore. Not that we were ever together.
You know he feels it too, the sting of those words. The hurt in his eyes fill you with a sort of bitter self-resentment that you cannot wrap your head around. Stop looking at me like that. Stop making me feel like a bitch. Just stop hurting me.
“Yeah, it is.” But for some reason, it stings even more when he says it. His agreement should be a triumph, yet it feels more like the acknowledgement of the broken bridges between you.
When it comes from your mouth, it’s you convincing yourself more than anything. When it comes from his, it sounds like the truth.
.
Of the many things that are slowly killing Taehyung this weekend, the painfully awkward silence is among the most unbearable. It’s the loud kind of silence that he hates where there is clearly so much to say to each other yet none of it is coming out. There’s a vast ocean between you, roaring waves engulfing any sort of message he wishes to communicate.
This has to be one of the strangest experiences of his life - being set up by your friend on a couple’s trip to a resort disguised as a strawberry farm for Valentine’s day with you - and he has experienced a lot of weird shit in his life.
To be honest, he hasn’t been doing so great the past few weeks.
All the anger and bitterness had taken two days to melt away into miserable wretchedness. Two days, that’s all it took for him to not be angry with you anymore because there was one person he was angrier at - himself.
Because Taehyung was quick to realise that losing you is miles, miles, worse than what you had done to him. It was a sudden sort of realisation, the kind that hits you in the middle of doing something. What had he done?
The way he yelled at you, the things he said. His chest always sinks at the rememberance.
You didn’t know it was Jimin, you truly didn’t. But he exploded on you nonetheless, impermeable to your explanation. That wasn’t him. That raging bellowing man wasn’t him. If only he had just calmed down and talked it through with you, maybe he wouldn’t have been sleeping alone in your bed that your scent still clung on to.
And when he thinks about how you had heard him with that girl from the club, the bar, wherever his inebriated state took him that he doesn’t even remember…
Taehyung regrets everything.
How you got to this point was so extremely stupid. He should have just confessed to you, simple and easy, no complications needed. You are a commitment-phobe, he always knew he’d have to be the one to say it first. So why didn’t he? What the fuck was holding him back?
All he had to say was to not go on that date with Junho. That’s all you wanted. Why why why didn’t he just say how he felt?
Taehyung never knew himself to be a crier before this. He had shed a tear or two when he found out about Ryujin’s cheating and his friends’ betrayal; that was a stab in the back that left him gutted from the inside. Yet still, he got by, he survived because he found you. And he had naively thought, I managed to bear through this so nothing can really be worse than this now can it?
It can, and it did.
Once it starts, it won’t stop. The tears. A great tempest swallowing him whole and dragging him under until all he could hear was his own pounding heart. It is always before bed, when he would have the time to himself to truly think and reflect. But sometimes it comes during the day as well. He will be doing something as mundane as washing his hair in the shower, and he would suddenly break down because you had left him your shampoo that you would always get annoyed at him for using.
The house just feels empty. The absence of your voice, your warmth, your lips pressed on his neck every morning before his eyes even fully opened. Gone.
Yet, every corner is etched with the memories you share, your ghost lingering by the sofa that you adore whenever he’s watching TV, or curled up beside him every night in bed. It’s impossible to forget you.
Even as Seojoon moved in to fill your vacated room and help with the rent, the place was cold. It will never be the same because nothing could ever replace you. Everything he had and cherished - swept away just like that by none other than his own mistakes.
Yes, you had hurt him a lot. At the time, that pain felt insurmountable, like the worst thing you could ever do to him. But ultimately, upon the endless nights of thinking, he has realised that what hurt him the most was not you, but losing you. Not Jimin, not Junho, but how what could have been between you two fell apart so quickly by the poor choices you both made.
“Now if you look up to your left, you might be able to see one of our February constellations, the Pictor.” Jae announces, voice full of an enthusiasm that Taehyung could only envy as he guides the tour group towards the centre of a large plain field behind the hotel where you will all be stargazing. It is a lovely, breezy, cloudless night. You are several paces ahead of Taehyung, keenly reading the constellation manual leaflet lit up by your phone; he knows just how much of an astronomy geek you are. “It consists of four stars, as shown on your Star Guide, that are actually very dim and usually not easily spotted. The name Pictor means the Painter’s easel.”
Taehyung stops. Despite the darkness, he sees your shoulders tense too.
The easel you had gifted him on his birthday sits in his closet, stowed away from being a constant reminder of how much you loved him and how much he should have held on. It just sits there, collecting dust, untouched since the day you left.
The halt in Jae’s walking indicates your arrival to the intended location. “Here we are. Let’s settle down, love birds. I’ll set up this gorgeous telescope for anyone who wants to explore the sky in greater focus which I highly recommend.”
Spreading across the field, the group unrolls the picnic blankets you’ve all been given, dropping down to rest atop the covered grass.
No time is wasted from everyone else to snuggle up to their boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives. The atmosphere is sickly, even for Taehyung. The couples around him have done little to hide their affection for each other since the beginning of the trip. It is a romantic vacation after all, but is it really so necessary to display your love so publicly?
You stand static and poker-faced on the other side of the mat, clear signs of reluctance to participate plastered all over you.
Taehyung has never stargazed before, let alone in this context. The stiffness in your movement as you sink down onto your knees and lie down in discomfort makes him wince. He realises now that neither of you have a choice but to put away any ill feelings and lay beside each other.
As he gets down next to you, his head nearly tumbles out his chest at the sudden proximity that he has grown so unused to. In the dark, your scent washes up to him like a timid tide lapping at the shore, hair swaying off your shoulders as you get onto your back. The size of the mat does not permit him elsewhere other than immediately beside you, no more than five inches from touching shoulders. Five inches from touching.
Truthbetold, Taehyung feels himself going insane. It started from the moment he saw you on the bus, your wide eyes, parted lips, so pretty despite the look of terror you wore. He didn’t think he would have the chance to see you any time soon. He hadn’t truly comprehended the magnitude at which he missed you until he saw you again.
And he has been spiralling since. Every gesture making his senses scream in agony, the desire to just talk to you mangling at him. He misses you like crazy. Not necessarily in that way, but just your presence, your funny comments, your feign annoyance when he annoys you. He misses the companionship.
You are both on your back now, the blanket feeling either slightly damp or too cold for comfort. The star-speckled sky hanging above you both is endless, a panoramic painting from east to west. You stare at the sky like it’s your lover, so Taehyung does the same. Astronomy doesn’t interest him as much as the meaning and purpose behind the act of stargazing. The people he’s with and the memories he makes.
Wordless, you stare at the sky, ignorant to his presence. The soft hum of everyone else’s whispers accentuates that frustrating silence between you. Taehyung is so fucking tired of the silence because he’s bursting with things to say to you, to ask you.
“Are we just not going to speak?”
His question startles you for you almost, almost, turn to look at him. The slight angling of your head before you catch yourself does not go unmissed by him.
“What do you want to speak about?” Taehyung hates the coldness in your voice. The unfeeling sounds so real. Why are you being this way? Do you seriously want nothing to do with him? That possibility scares him above all else.
Someone giggles a few yards from you two. On this large grassland, the couples are dispersed in their own little bubble of sweet affection, but not enough for his ears to not pick up these little sounds that send courses of envy through his vessel.
“What do you think?” The four weeks you spent apart were four weeks of lamenting over all the things he should have said, and all that he shouldn’t. And Taehyung’s is done with regretting unspoken words. He just wants to get everything out in the open, out of his system, so he can move on.
“I mean-”
“Look, Y/N. This is stupid, the whole ignoring each other thing. Don’t you just want to say your piece and get that weight off your chest?” In the distance, crickets chirp faintly. The discomfort shuddering in the five-inch area between your shoulders is screaming volumes. Taehyung doesn’t turn away from the sky for the fear of the expression he would see you wear.
He expects a note of irritation in your voice, for you to start arguing with him which he truthfully doesn’t mind because that is at least progress. But instead he gets a quiet defeat. “I don’t want to reopen wounds that are already ripping open, Taehyung.”
It wrenches his soul, truly. He doesn’t recognise you when you speak anymore, both with the things you say, and the way you say it. “Talking will help it heal.” Because that’s both your final goals here - to heal, to be cured of the ailment that is heartbreak.
“How exactly is it going to change anything?”
“I don’t know. We’ve had time to calm down and think and I think we should have some closure so we end on a good note.”
It’s funny now, how Taehyung is the one pleading to speak to you when he should be the one who’s angry at you because you were the one to commit the last and biggest fault. He doesn’t see it like that though, that’s all in the past. To be friends with you again, that’s all he wishes for, he doesn’t care about anything else at this point.
“So this is about amicability to you? You want to end on good terms.” Neither of you still dare to look at the other, eyes locked on the stars but somewhere distant.
“Well, yeah. Do you not?” He asks. He hadn’t expected you to be this uneasy, he thought you would have liked the idea of peace amongst you. “Everything towards the end happened so quickly, wouldn’t you like some closure?
“I would rather take my time and heal in my own way. To be honest, I don’t have anything to say to you about that topic except that I’m sorry, but I’m sure you’re sick of hearing that. It’s pointless.”
You’re coping with this differently, Taehyung understands. But it doesn’t take much effort to be pleasant towards each other, to smile and greet each other like normal people instead of scrambling away from every eye contact. How do you suppose you’d be able to move on like that?
“So not even friends right now?” He tries one last time. A soft breeze washes over you, wafting your scent towards him.
“No, I don’t want to be friends right now.”
Your bluntness stings. Taehyung finally gives in and turns to face you. Your striking profile greets him, your eyes still stubbornly glued to the sky. Your unwillingness to budge or compromise even a little bit is frustrating.
“We were best friends for the past two and a half years. More than best friends, we were literally two peas in a pod; we lived together, ate together, studied together, slept together. And now we don’t even talk. You’re okay with losing that? You’re telling me that I’m the only one who misses it more than anything else?” His angry whisper sounds ridiculous as he tries to keep his volume down, conscious of the setting he’s in.
But then he sees you blink, hard. Then blink again. Your pursed lip trembles. Another two consecutive blinks. When you look at him, your eyes are so glassy that they reflect the entirety of the galaxy above. “How am I supposed to be your friend right now when I can’t even look at you without feeling this great pang of sadness every time?” Taehyung immediately wishes he hadn’t pushed you.
“I… just would rather have you in my life as a friend than not have you at all.” His voice softens to a tone more apologetic. He is the reason for the tears you’re holding back right now and he despises it.
“I would rather not have you in my life at all while I slowly get over you than have you as just a friend because my heart can’t take this constant torture. I just want to be over you but I can’t do that if I have to pretend to be okay around you. And I just don’t get it Taehyung. How are you so willing to be friends again? After what I did, how could you look at me and not hate me?”
Taehyung frowns at you because he doesn’t see how you can’t understand it’s not about that anymore. It’s not about the blame, the who did what to who. He doesn’t care anymore but the fact that you do is alarming. You still can’t let it go.
“Okay, so is this about you not forgiving yourself?” He prods, and watches the brief flash of confusion on your face.
“I-” You’re quick to dispute but stop. Because it’s the truth.
A long silence ensures. You stare at the collar of his sweatshirt, zoned out. Taehyung knows you’re in deep contemplation, you know his points have strong grounds. There is no reason for hostility or callousness between you because it would only hurt each other more.
“Look,” He takes a deep breath. “I just think that it’s unhealthy for you to act like this. You’re burying and burying what you’re feeling without actually facing it. Trying to be friends is a good first step in accepting that we’re not together anymore; being cold to each other isn’t. Think about it.”
Another long pause. He watches you blink, watches your chest rise and fall at every breath.
“I understand your point, I know my coping mechanism isn’t healthy but it’s all that I know right now. We’re different, we’re hurting differently and healing differently. I’m sorry for acting out on you when it’s myself who I want to punish. But I seriously don’t have the strength to be your friend right now, I wish I did but I really don’t. Just give me time.” The fact that you’re not arguing with him says a lot; you have both matured from this experience. It’s sad that this is what it took for you to do so.
“Okay. I respect that.” Taehyung says. “I’m sorry for pushing this onto you, it’s selfish of me, sorry. I just… I don’t know, I guess I’m pathetic. You were my best friend and I want to salvage it as much as I can. I just miss you, that’s all.”
You don’t say anything, but Taehyung is okay with that. Because he knows you miss him too, you miss the friendship, the having each other to lean on.
The difference between you and him is that you can’t compartmentalise your lingering feelings for him and put that aside right now, whereas he can. You need to rid those feelings before you can be his friend, and he’s okay with that.
He stares at Pictor, it’s four weak stars that dim beside much brighter constellations yet somehow call to him. And he almost smiles.
.
You stare at your own reflection in the mirror.
That conversation with Taehyung resonates with you more than you’d care to let on. You let every single word he said sink in, your inner turmoil contemplating the points he made. Because he definitely has a point.
What resonates with you most is the word closure.
He’s right, everything between you ended so quickly that there was no time to process and accept it until it was already over. Maybe that’s why you’re finding it so hard to let go. If you were to be friends again, you could at least normalise his presence and gradually move past this.
Twisting the faucet on, you splash some water on your face to clear this dilemma from your head. And after wiping yourself dry, you exit the bathroom into your room with a great sigh.
Taehyung is wearing the grey hoodie - that’s the first thing you notice. As in the grey hoodie you would always claim as your own because of how soft its material is. The grey hoodie that you regret giving back to him. The grey hoodie that he would always wear when you guys gamed at midnight and it would always end with you on his lap, his locks tangled in your fingers while his mouth explored yours.
You take it back, fuck being friends, you’re back to square one.
He glances up in the dark, eyes surveying your silhouette from head to toe as he places a pillow on one end of the couch. Ever since that conversation, there’s the most subtle difference in his permanent expression - his lips look inclined to smile, his eyes hold an understanding for you that makes you feel vulnerable.
And, god, it makes you want to try. He deserves it, to have his best friend back in his life even if that best friend is you, the person he trusted the most in the world only to turn around and impale him in the chest with those stupid decisions of yours.
The omnipresence of your awkwardness hasn’t faltered though. “Taehyung, I said I would take the couch.” You protest, though you’re starting to see that it’s futile. You may be the more stubborn one between the pair, but there are certain things that Taehyung would never back down from.
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen, Y/N.” The corner of his lip turns up properly now, like he’s silently snickering at a joke he thought of. “That’s just - not gonna happen.”
“What’s so funny?” Switching the bathroom lights off behind you, you ask. You hadn’t packed well for this trip, you are only in a flimsy camisole and a pair of sweats, the cold air coaxes goosebumps on your skin. His gaze follows you as you draw the curtains shut over the glass wall, leaving only a strip of moonlight streaming in.
“Nothing.” Taehyung places both hands on the top of his head, an action that causes his hoodie to slightly ride up his torso. You fix your eyes on the floor as you approach him and the sofa. “It’s just funny how you think I’d ever let you sleep on the couch while I sleep on the bed.”
There is a dead end down this path you’re going, neither of you would let the other win. So you simply ignore him and situate yourself on the couch, stretching your legs to span it wholly. “Good night.” Fixing the pillow he had placed, you shut your eyes.
“What, no.” You can hear the smile wipe off his face, almost making you chuckle out loud. “Y/N, get up.” Hastily he hovers over you. But when you show no sign of acknowledgement, he shuffles away. A moment later, you feel a great gust of air, then the softest silkiest duvet landing over you.
Your eyes fly open. And there Taehyung stands with his arms crossed smugly. “If you take the couch, you also take the covers.”
“No! You’ll be cold.”
“You’ll be cold. You’re not wearing enough.”
You give up. “Oh, for god’s sake, Taehyung. Fine. Let’s both sleep on the bed, okay?” His entire expression dilates. He doesn’t even blink as you get off the couch and cross your arms back at him. “Problem solved.”
Taking his wrist in one hand, dragging the plush duvet in the other, you walk to the bed and sit him down. No noise of protest emits from him, so you go back to retrieve the pillow from the couch in a huff.
“Are you sure?” His voice is suddenly timid, unsure. And he’s right to be so, because you’re quaking on the inside as well at the prospect of sleeping beside him.
It’s not going to be good for your heart, you know that definitely. But like he said, you need to face this. If you touch a paper cut enough times, it stops hurting. “It’s just sleeping, it’s no big deal.” You lie. “You want to be friends right? Well let’s start with this. Let’s stop being stupid and childish.” You can’t look him in the eye as you rearrange the bedding back to its original state before Taehyung messed it up.
His reply merely a quiet yeah… before you both hesitantly crawl under the covers and tuck in. Heat flushes to your face as you do so because the action feels so familiar, yet everything about it is different.
Absolute silence. Backs facing each other. An arm's length or two between you but it feels like more. You don’t even shut your eyes because why pretend that you’ll fall asleep?
Your own palpitation is so vigorous that it’s audible. The thoughts whizzing around in your head are unstoppable, a persistent prodding at your skull. His scent is strong, that sweet honey musk that used to seduce you to sleep now the very thing that’s keeping you up.
It must be, what, ten? twenty minutes? of just laying there as you ponder your future with Taehyung, if you want a future at all. He’s right, you miss his friendship above all else. As much as you love Lotta, there is an intangible quality missing between you, that extra spark that existed between Taehyung which boosted your dynamic up to an incomparable level. You understood each other without having to speak, care about each other more than yourselves - that love was almost familial. Losing that has been too much.
Then you hear Taehyung shift onto his back. “Y/N?” Your heart skips a beat.
“Yeah?” You answer after a pause, mind racing through all the possibilities of what he could say. You hate this permanent uncertainty of what he’s thinking.
Silence follows for a short while, the endless possibility of what he’s going to say flooding your mind. Then, “You know how I can’t sleep without holding something?”
You stop breathing.
Because you see very clearly where this is going, and it’s down a road that you don’t know if you can withstand.
He can’t sleep without holding you. Holding you.
You take a deep breath and clamp down on your lip, grateful that your back is facing him so he can’t see the pathetic weakness on your face. Can you do this?
Can you do this without wanting to cry? Can you do this without succumbing to your momentary desire to just turn around and kiss him because you won’t be able to think straight with his arms around you? You’re really not sure.
“Yes…?”
“Can I…” Something rustles the covers, perhaps his arm, or maybe he’s inching closer. In the pitch black night, every movement feels amplified, more impactful. “You know…”
“Can you what?” You’re not being difficult, you’re giving him the chance to take back on this request. To just say nevermind and turn back around. Because you’re not equipped for his touch; you don’t want it, you don’t want the pain that comes with it.
Another pause. Take the chance, please. But his deep hesitant voice sounds in the dark, “Can I hold you please?”
You shut your eyes. That feeling in your nose again, that rush. Hold it in, don’t cry, stupid emotional bitch, don’t cry. What’s there to cry about? You wonder if this torment will end, and you wonder if you could ever stop feeling this much for him.
“I swear I’m not trying anything, I genuinely can’t sleep.” His voice has a way of penetrating deep into your bones, begging you even if it’s not his intention to.
You could say no, right? Just say no.
But that isn’t facing it, that isn’t overcoming your heartbreak. If your goal of this trip is to come out of this weekend completely devoid of feelings for him, then you need to let him stop affecting you.
“Okay. Please don’t make it weird.” You whisper, not daring to move a muscle.
Taehyung sags in relief, the bed dipping with his weight. “I won’t, I promise.” The sound of him shuffling closer to you constricts your throat. You close your eyes, awaiting the warmth of his front to meet your back, counting down in your head for that dreaded moment to come. “Come closer.” He murmurs.
When his hand fits around your waist, you know it’s an act of unconscious habit rather than intent. Slowly, he drags you into the enclosure of his chest, his scent and heat enshrouding you until you are completely engulfed by him.
He exhales, the fingertips of his breath caressing your hair ever so gently.
Every fibre in your body is tensing, eyes firmly shut and toes curled inwards. His hand feels enormous on your waist, holding you the only way he has ever known how to. With a unique type of affection that is so pure and devoted, yet also with a hint of protectiveness and possession.
Taehyung lets go of your waist only to encircle his arms around you entirely, his legs curling up under yours until you’re both cocooned together.
“You okay?” The back of your neck feels tender, sensual even, from the tickling heat of his breath. You’re too keenly aware of how close your heads are positioned, of the searing sensations that his hands are causing.
No, you’re not okay. Your skin has been lit on fire. Memories that you’ve long since tried to bury are surging back at full force, slamming into you one after the other. He’s too close, he’s everywhere. There is no distance separating you right now, yet you still feel miles away from him; you can’t comprehend his intentions nor decipher his thoughts. The fit of the crook of your back into his chest is perfect, a heartbreaking kind of perfect. This feels so so familiar. This is exactly what you had yearned and dreamt for every night for the past month - to be in his arms again. So why does it hurt even more than being alone?
Instead, you nod, “Mmm, yeah.”
A compulsion is yanking at you to lean back into him.
Taehyung exhales again and rests his cheek on the back of your shoulder where he always used to perch. If you were naked right now, he would be speckling this shoulder with soft dainty petal kisses. You hate that there is still a part of you, and mind you a very significant part, that wants it.
Your hands are inches away from touching each other; just one lift of your wrist and your fingers can clasp. The urge indunates you.
It would be so easy right now to just succumb - let your hand crawl into his because you know he would hold it, turn around and start kissing up his jaw until your tongues are tangled. You think it’s purely physical, these impulses, at least that’s what you want them to be. You just miss the intimacy, that’s all. But then why does it feel like you’ve swallowed a kaleidoscope of butterflies? Except their wings are made of glass, and everytime they flutter, you feel the shards scratch along your insides. There is desire laced in the pain. You don’t know which one is worse.
What baffles you the most is how he is alright with this, how he initiated this. He said he wants to at least be your friend, but this surely feels like a breach of friendship to anyone. Holding each other in bed is not being friends. But then again, you both have always had a warped perception of what friends should be doing.
You don’t understand how it’s so different for him. How the areas where you are touching, even if separated by layers of clothes, doesn’t tear through his sanity. If he doesn’t feel the same crack in his heart, then what does he feel?
With every heavy breath he takes, you take a silent one, eyes shut and praying to be swept away by the sleep that you don’t believe will reach you. You haven’t slept well since that night. Taehyung, on the other hand, you know is instantly sound asleep. It never used to take him more than five minutes as long as you were in his clutch.
But then, maybe there is a soothing essence in his presence with his overwhelming pleasant scent and rhythmic breathing, or maybe you’ve just exhausted your body with constant overthinking, a hazy fog drifts over your consciousness. You’re so tired, physically and mentally drained... And Taehyung feels so warm and snug around you...
The last thought you have before you drift off into reverie is that you feel his fingers slide between yours, holding not firmly but with intent. And you don’t know if it was you or him who moved it so.
You wake up from the damp heat gathered in all your crevices, the thin coat of sweat mildly irritating your skin. You are facing the glass door to the patio, and though the curtains conceal much of the windows, strips of sunlight topple past the cracks and unfurl into your room.
Taehyung’s arm is around you. Still.
After these years of living together, you know everything about Taehyung like that back of your hand. You can tell whether he’s awake or not from his breathing. And he’s most definitely asleep, though only lightly.
You look down and examine your position. In the course of the night, his forearm has travelled progressively higher until it is just about cradling your breasts. One of his legs is thrown over yours, entrapping you in his embrace. In his tangle of limbs, you slowly try to twist onto your back while prying him off.
He stirs, pulls you in tighter.
Which lands your rear in the unfortunate position of right atop his crotch. His crotch that is very much awake and way too excited.
Lethargy immediately expelled, your eyes open wide.
Morning wood is a usual occurrence for Taehyung, especially after a night of merciless teasing, but randomly a lot of the times. You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are, nor aroused. He has mentioned before how uncomfortable it can be, a blaring hard presence, a sore tension waking him up in an unforgiving manner. Which means that he can precariously wake any second n-
“Mmmm.” Voice an octave deeper than its norm, he hums, announcing his returning consciousness.
Taehyung’s morning wood and morning voice. You are being tested right now.
Your concupiscence has been gradually building up in the last few weeks from the lack of any sexual activity save for your own fingers and toys. It’s human nature, and completely goes against your will - but you feel the old friend that goes by the name lust stirring at the pit of your stomach.
At your proximity, the tip of his member digs deep between your cheeks, prodding at your entrance incontestably. Your whole body stiffens as the slowly waking Taehyung nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck habitually, arm tensing around you. Ever so slowly, you look back to steal a glance. His wildly curly hair falls over his forehead gracefully, lashes fanned out from his closed lids. He’s too beautiful for his own good.
Your core dampens and you quickly turn back around.
Fuck, please, no. You can’t be thinking about him like that. It’s so wrong. But his erection burrowed between your ass is banishing any clarity or sense from your head.
But God, you fucking miss this.
You’re going mad from deprivation. The dry spell of the past month had been voluntary, on the basis that you knew it wasn’t a healthy coping mechanism because you would only picture Taehyung over the faces of those nameless men. And because you knew no one knows you as well as he does, thus no one will succeed in satisfying you as well as him. Your sex drive was non-existent right after the break-up; sex simply didn’t cross your mind once while you were nursing your broken heart. And then it came ebbing back, though faintly and infrequently, you regained your libido and would find yourself fantasising on some lonesome nights.
But now, the situation at hand is that: you’ve allowed Taehyung to cuddle you in his sleep and you’ve consequently woken up to his undeniably hard cock poking between your legs. And he is seconds away from fully waking up as well.
So what now?
“Taehyung.” You say firmly, pushing his arm away from your breasts. It’s best if you call him out for it now rather than let it hang awkwardly in the air unsaid.
“Hmmmm..?” He rumbles sleepily. You don’t have to turn around to be able to envision his face, eyes slowly blinking open but reluctant as ever, true to his deep sleeper title.
“Taehyung.” This time you nudge back gently for emphasis. What it achieves is additional friction. Your whole lower half achse to grind back onto him, to slide over his hardened cock, to reach back and pump it in your hands.
Fuck.
You can’t.
You could, so easily, but you shouldn’t. You and Taehyung are completely over in every sense of your relationship. You can’t let this moment of weakness strip away all your efforts in moving on.
“Wha…” He mumbles, finally peeling his arm off you to stretch out. A loud yawn ensues. You take the opportunity of his loosened hold around you to twist back and pin him with a glare, hoping that your thirst is masked.
“You’re hard.”
Eyes still puffy, he stops mid-stretch at those two words. And looks down.
Did he… not notice? Or did he, in his morning hazy, momentarily get the situation confused and forget that you weren’t together?
Taehyung scrambles away from you so abruptly that he almost falls off the bed. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t- It just- I can’t control it, Y/N, you know I can’t.” His stammering is followed by his jerky movements to readjust his bulge as discreetly as one can allow in such situation. The detonation of terror on his face exacerbates your embarrassment. Because you simply don’t know what to do with yourself - with your core tingling in arousal simultaneously as your brow twitches in annoyance. When your vexed eyes meet his, you see another wave of panic crash onto him.
How did you get in this situation in the first place? If only you had just slept on the couch last night…
“Yeah, I know, stop reacting like that. Don’t make it weirder than it already is.” You berate, yanking the covers with all your strength over your shoulder and roll away from him. The distance is more for your own good. You can’t be near him right now, you can’t think about his fucking cock slipping into you.
You want to fuck. You want to fuck Taehy-
Stop that fucking thought.
“I’m sorry.” His morning voice, oh god. Burying your face into the pillow does little against the fluid pooling in your panties.
“Can you go to the toilet and… fix yourself.” When the words leave your mouth, the imagery of him fixing himself flashes before your eyes. And something pulses violently down there. Fucking fuck.
“Um, okay, sorry.” You try to not peek at him as he gets up from the bed, slightly limping as he makes his way to the toilet. But you succumb nonetheless.
His cheeks are scarlet, veins bulging on the side of his forehead, and you’re not sure if it’s from his embarrassment or the discomfort of the boner. Your eyes drop from his profile because his morning face has always been one of your weaknesses, except unfortunately for you, your eyes land on his bulge.
Another pulse down there.
You hate yourself. You feel dirty for even thinking about him like that because it’s so wrong. But then again, he’s probably thinking about you like that as well, hence the raging erection.
When the bathroom door shuts behind him, you let out a sigh. You don’t know how long you can keep hold of your sanity for like this. You’re swimming in a sea of confusing emotions: the constant melancholy you have of missing him and missing the way things were before you had fucked it up; the desperation to move on and understand that he was only a chapter of your life that is now closed; the bitter resentment that you have for yourself as a consequence of not being able to do so; and now the inescapable desire aching between your thighs because of how inherent these memories are of how he would fuck you until you cry like nobody else could.
What doesn’t help is the hint of a slow pumping rhythm from the toilet, and Taehyung’s ragged breathing.
Fuck.
You don’t want to think about how he’s jerking off on the other side of the wall right now, gripping his cock as he leans against the sink, head thrown back. But that’s exactly what you’re thinking about.
Is he thinking of you as he’s doing it? You’re not sure if you want him to, because while you wish he wouldn’t, you also hope that this lust you feel is reciprocated still, that you’re not the only one going crazy with arousal.
Your hand almost trails down to your core when his pace quickens, but his sharp inhale strikes at your inner righteousness. You stop, sit up and rush out to the patio for some fresh air.
Happy Valentine’s Sunday indeed.
.
The dough feels sticky in your hand despite the layers of flour you’ve doused your fingertips in. Baking has never been your forte, you simply don’t have the patience or precision for such a crafty hobby. You glance over to check on Taehyung’s progress at the other half of the counter.
He has the easy job. Of course, when it came to allocating roles between the pair of you in this baking session, the jam-making landed on him because there’s no way he would succeed in making the strawberry tart.
You can’t help but smile at the way his lips are puckered and brows drawn in concentration as he chops the berries as finely as he could. But the way the top half of his hair is pulled back into a little sprout of a ponytail… You gulp.
Neither of you have spoken a word of this morning’s awkward event; it had been a tacit agreement not to as soon as you made eye contact when he stepped out of the bathroom. It has set a lewd tone for the rest of your day. At every blank moment where your mind isn’t preoccupied, especially when you’re doing something as frivolous and kneading dough, your thoughts would wander to the memories of his warm rigid-
You stop yourself. You’re in public and he’s chopping strawberries right next to you.
You’ve noticed how, every time you’d have those sinful thoughts, your mood would lighten a little. The pang in your heart that used to always plague you would profoundly diminish. Of all things, of course sex is what eases your sadness the most, that’s just so characterisitic of you isn’t it?
“Is everything going well?” One of the baking assistants comes over to your counter for the seventh time now (yes you’re counting). She is a petite, rather pretty, pleasant looking girl. And you have not failed to notice how every time she checks up on you two, her attention is always solely on Taehyung. Here you are struggling with your asscheek of dough yet she only cares to ask how Taehyung, the strawberry chopper, fares?
“Yup.” Taehyung spares her a brief glance before dumping the diced pieces of fruit into the saucepan.
“Would you like some more flour?” You almost scoff out loud. You’re the one working with flour over here! Why is she asking him?
“No, thanks.” He doesn’t look up this time.
The assistant smiles to herself as if he’d said something particularly sweet to her. Until her eyes land on you. “Uh- What about you, ma’am?”
“All.” You land a punch on the buttery dough, death glare and all. “Good.” Another punch. Eyes not once wavering. She has the brains to scramble away.
You don’t have the right to assert this sort of possessiveness over Taehyung. But it’s the principle. This is a couple’s romantic holiday; she must be under the presumption that you and Taehyung are together, so how does she still dare to ogle over him like that?
“She’s flirting with you.” You rumble when she’s out of earshot.
Taehyung looks up at you from stirring his jam mixture, his lips still slightly pouted from his focus. “What? Who?”
“That baking assistant who came over just now.” You grit, trying to suppress this irrational vexation.
“Oh. Really?” Clueless, he scans across the room. “Was that the blonde or the brunette one?”
It’s a relief how truly oblivious he is that you don’t bother answering his question. It’s also completely unlike him. Since when did Kim Taehyung not notice when a girl takes interest in him? How fascinating must those strawberries be to capture his undivided attention like that?
“Would you like some flour?” You mimic, batting your lashes at him.
A wide grin spreads across his cheeks. To be honest, you don’t know what prompted you to display such friendliness to him all of a sudden. Perhaps what happened this morning, or even the fact that you slept on the same bed last night, breached one of the walls towering between you. It’s progress.
“You’ve got flour on your face.”
Fuck, again? You need to stop handling stuff like dirt and flour because they keep ending up on your face. “Ugh.” You huff, trying to let the embarrassment brush off. “Where?”
From the mischievous smirk that his grin morphed into, you should’ve known. Before you could suspect, Taehyung dabs one of his fingers into a small pile of flour and smears it down your cheek. “There.”
“You-!” You gasp, your own finger already caked in flour flying for a counter attack at his face.
But his reflexes are fast as he catches your wrist in lightning speed and tugs you towards him, his other hand simultaneously slathering another streak of white down the bridge of your nose. You tumble into him, foolish grin on your face as you twist your wrist out of his grip and manage to smear your floury thumb onto his chin.
Taehyung catches you before you could trip over your feet, smiling so wide for the first time this weekend that you can’t help but giggle. His grip on your waist feels warm. You’re close enough that you have to crane your neck to see him, close enough to see the individual hairs of his brows.
Yes, something has definitely shifted since last night.
The desire is a flame, devouring all your other senses until all you can focus on is his touch, his molten chocolate eyes, his tongue swiping out to wet his lips. You just want to…
Kiss him.
You admit it, you want to kiss him so fucking badly.
Ignition in his eyes, he stares at your lips too, smile slowly faltering. The hammering of your spastic heart cancels out all other noise in the room; you don’t see anything else except him. He doesn’t move, and neither do you. That lustful monster in your mind screams, Damn the consequences. Just kiss. Fuck being friends and fuck being strangers. Kiss him.
“Alright, lovebirds over there. These pastries won’t make themselves. Let’s get cracking!” Both of you jump and the sound of the head chef calling.
A bucket of ice cold water showers over you, extinguishing that prosperous flame. And reality materialises once again around you.
Not just the physical reality, but the reality of your situation as well - you can’t, you shouldn’t be acting like this around each other. There’s being friends, and then there’s this. The line is fine, it has always been.
It’s difficult to separate the weeds of these conglomerated emotions. You miss each other, want to kiss each other. You want the hurting to end, he wants to be friends. Your break up had been too messy for either of you to have a clear vision of what you need to do to overcome this.
Except maybe there is a cure-all solution to this.
You return to your ball of dough as Taehyung goes back to stirring his boiling jam. Yet your attention is now scattered, because a seed of an idea, most probably a very bad one, has been sown in your head.
.
It is most definitely a reckless idea, one that has the potential of going very south.
You bring it up during dinner, the supposed “romantic candlelit dinner with a string quartet” which neither of you are remotely dressed well enough for. “Taehyung, you know how you talked about closure and all that yesterday?”
Taehyung pauses, forkful of tenderloin steak stopped in midair. “Yeah..?” The hope in his voice is infused with an uncertain hesitation.
“I think we should have sex. One last time. For closure.”
The violin strikes a particularly high pitch in the background. Taehyung doesn’t move a hair for at least a good ten seconds before he blinks at you. This was definitely not what he’d anticipated from you, you can tell. But well, of course it isn’t. The idea surprised yourself.
“What? I think I heard something else, say that again?”
Oh boy. “No, you heard it right. I said I think we should sleep together for closure.” You sound unsteady to your own ears. “Release all this pent up sexual frustration we have for each other one last time and then be done with this. You said you want to be friends, right? I actually think it’s going to work for me, I’ll be able to move on afterwards, I’m almost certain.”
Frowning, Taehyung puts his fork down. “Really…? You want to have sex?”
“Yes.” You’re not even going to be shy about it at this point. You weren’t sure how this scene was going to play out but you’d envisioned it to go much smoother than this. “Do you want to?”
“I mean…” Colour of wine stains his cheeks. “Yeah… But are you sure? You were just saying last night how you can’t look at me without hurting. Do you understand why this is confusing for me?”
“I know it sounds contradictory and counterproductive, but-” You halt when you realise that there is no but. You don’t know how to verbalise the explanation that convinced you in your head. “Look at it as break up sex. It’s a common thing because it works. Like you said, we ended so quickly, in a blink of an eye. Just see this as the closing chapter of our relationship. If you don’t want to do it, just say it. I just had to throw it out there.”
Worry drips down your throat when his blank expression remains unchanged - worry that you’ve made a fatally wrong move to make things irreparably awkward now, if he so wishes not to follow through with your suggestion.
But then he nods, ponderously and maybe not entirely convinced, but you’ll take it. “I think you have a point… The thing about closure and ending this better than we did the first time round.”
“So… You’re down.”
“Down.”
So, the rest of dinner flies by with the two of you wolfing down your meal as hastily as you can. The entire time, your mind is buzzing with a strange sort of excitement for you are confident that this is necessary in accelerating your process of recovery.
You and Taehyung started with sex, so naturally, you should end with sex.
If you are eating cookies from a jar and that jar is suddenly taken away from you, you would be overcome with a surge of anger and unjust. You will always remember that awful person who took it from you. But if you are told that the jar will be taken away and the cookie in your hand is the last one you can ever have, you will cherish this last cookie and take your time eating it. It would taste different from all the other cookies you’ve had in the past - better, sweeter, because you know that it’s the last one.
Taehyung is quiet, indecipherable as you stroll back to the room. You understand his doubt, you really do. Because a night ago, if he’d have offered you the same suggestion, you would’ve thought he’s insane. But after the incident this morning, and the sparse flirtation throughout the day, there is a clear indication of unresolved sexual tension on both ends.
End this once and for all with a bang.
“Are you really up for it, Taehyung?” You check one last time, swiping the keycard at the door. “If you’re not comfortable, then we shouldn’t.”
When you look back as you push open the door, you catch his eyes, filled with purpose and trust. “No, you’re right. We need the closure.”
As the door closes behind you after you enter, it feels final - your fate is sealed, this is happening. You both stop in the middle of the room, facing each other. Shoulders tense and fists clenched. The bed has been made from this morning, a strawberry gift basket sitting on the coffee table in the corner of your eye.
Your breath feels shaky.
“So…”
“So…”
His throat is trembling too.
You break into a smile at how pathetic you’ve both become around each other, and once you do, Taehyung observably loosens up. “What are we being so nervous for?”
He smiles too, and takes a step towards you. “I don’t know.”
Bittersweet. It’s the best way to describe how you feel right now. Because this is it.
“Do you want to get in the hot tub? It feels like a waste if we don’t use it before we go. It’s our last night here.” The buzzing beneath your skin grows as you ask, and a spark lights up in his eyes at your idea.
“Say no more.” He presses a kiss on your forehead. It’s utterly out of the blue and fleeting, but enough to make your heart leap, both from the bewilderment and the knowledge that this will be one of your last acts of affection.
Taehyung walks past you towards the glass door, peeling off his shirt in the meantime to reveal the new tone of muscle on his back that he’s acquired in the past month. “I’m going to get some alcohol.” You maunder.
Your fingers are shaking as you rummage through the wine cooled for the drink you best see suitable. A strawberry champagne catches your eye. How fitting.
You can’t explain how jittery you feel as you completely strip off your clothes. This is the last time with Taehyung. The profound significance, the pressure, the emotions, tide after tide hitting you.
Two glasses of champagne in your hand, you inhale sharply, and let it all out.
This is it. This is the conclusive ending you asked for.
Warm water bubbling up to his chest, you find him seated in the hot tub awaiting you. The boxers discarded by the side implies that it was a last minute decision of his to go completely naked. And when he notices your nude form strutting out to the patio to join him, he sucks in. The way his eyes rake down your body then back up to your face sends flutters to you core, but also a nostalgic pang.
Eye contact does not break for a second as you climb into the hot tub and sit yourself adjacent to him. The chilly evening breeze with the heated effervescing water provides the perfect ambient temperature. Taehyung accepts the champagne you hand him, finger brushing over yours in a way that could only be intentional. He’s savouring every touch.
“To Mykonos, to the heatwave, to us and our last time.” You toast. The lump in your throat almost doesn’t permit the words to be said.
“To Mykonos, to the heatwave, to us and our last time.” He repeats after you. Clink. And down the drink goes.
A sigh, from both of you. The champagne is bittersweet, too. And you feel that surge behind your nose again, the sting behind your eyes.
“Isn’t it funny how the universe plays out?” Taehyung says, gaze falling to your lips, then your neck, then collar. He slides closer to you. “The first time we kissed was in water, the Mediterranean Sea. And now, the last time will be in water too.”
You don’t say anything for you need a moment to collect the tears. Then you place your glass on the edge of the tub and waddle through the water until you are perched on his lap. He receives you like you’re made of glass, gentle hands coming around your bare back to pull you down onto him. You brush away his dark untamed curls from his face, appreciating the thickness of his hair between your fingers because you don’t think you’ll get to touch it again. His hands trail low to the small of your back; you feel yourself brush up against his member, already hard and poised.
You want to tell him that you love him, that you will always always love him. But you know you would break if you say it.
So you just lean down to kiss him.
People like to describe their kisses like electricity, fire, a bolt of lightning striking down their spine. But for you, it really isn’t like that at all. When your lips meet, it feels like your first sip of cocoa on the first day of winter warm but not hot enough to burn, feels as though you’re interlocking fingers in a crowd of busy bodies and his thumb brushes over yours to tell you it’s okay, I’m right here and I won’t let go.
And you both pull away at the same time, a string of saliva between your mouths.
Because you both feel it, and it’s too much.
But this is the last time, you remind yourselves. Last time.
So your lips fall back onto him, fuelled by a passion you’ve never felt before. His mouth is velvet, fitting over yours so perfectly that it hurts. His hand finds your face, wet from being submerged, and he holds you more tenderly than he would an infant. Your chest is imploding from every ragged breath you take between hot kisses and you just let it.
Arousal pulling at your strings, your hand snakes down his front, dips into the water and wraps around his cock. “Ah…” Taehyung groans into your mouth. Your touch swipes across his tip. “Fuck, baby.”
Baby.
That is your undoing.
His teeth find your breasts, taking your nipple and teasing it until you’re whimpering in need. The roughness of his tongue tingles your sensitive bud so much that your eyes roll back and your vision is black and dotted with stars. The water providing you with a newfound ease, you pump him relentlessly, sitting up so you can slide his tip over your clit and along your folds. Because neither of you can wait, you’re cutting to the chase. Anything else can wait until subsequent rounds.
Every time his head brushes past your clit, a convulsion shoots up you. Your thighs quiver around him as he digs his fingers into the flesh of your ass. And when you inch by inch sink down onto his cock, the euphoric stretch in your walls numbs all other sensation.
You have missed this so much. It’s been so long.
“Fuck, you’re tight.” Taehyung’s voice is shaky, breath hitched.
“It’s ‘coz I haven’t…”
You don’t have to finish the sentence for him to understand and reply, “Me neither.”
The boost of reassurance and confidence that it grants you makes you roll your hips over his. From the absence of sex the past month, your cunt has grown unaccustomed to his size. Your entire core aches, but in the best way you could ask for. The water sloshes as you gain a steady rhythm. You have to bite down onto his ear to stop the volume at which you want to cry out because you remember that you are outdoors.
Taehyung’s face burrows into your neck, panting hard, but thrusting harder. You think back to every single one of your times together, from beginning to now. Your arms encircle tighter around him as you kiss the shell of his ear.
The initial pain in your walls is beginning to trickle away, leaving in its wake the claws of pleasure running up and down your body. Taehyung’s cock performs wonders on you that no one else can - it’s just a fact that you have to accept now. Nothing will compare.
Yet you can come to terms with it. You can gladly accept that Taehyung will be the best thing you’ll ever have.
But then you feel the dampness. At first, you mistaken it as droplets of water splattering onto you so you ignore it. And amidst you bouncing onto him, you don’t notice how Taehyung’s shoulders are shuddering.
You stop.
And feel the streaks of his tears running down your neck from where his face is pressed onto.
You can’t describe the shattering in your heart when you look down to find him crying into you. You can’t speak, can’t move, can’t even cry back at him.
It leaves you in wreckages, how he’s holding you close to him still, clinging on despite your how you’ve stopped, muffled sobs cracking out of this throat.
It takes a while for you to regain your voice, but his tears are still ceaseless. “Taehyung…”
When he looks up, you’re struck with another ammunition of distraught. The redness of his eyes, the sad distortion of his beautiful features, the endless endless tears...
“Y/N, I can’t. I really can’t.” His voice is hoarse, as if he’s been screaming silently.
“I-I’m sorry, you should’ve said. I’m so sorry I didn’t realise.” You’re stupefied from the horrendous sight of a completely broken Taehyung underneath you. You immediately climb off him.
“I-” He sniffs. “I love you so fucking much. I love you more than I love myself and I can only ever love you more each day.” You feel it again, the surge in your nose, the sting behind your eyes. You’re choked up, speechless, resenting yourself for putting him through this. You want to bury your head in the water and cry until you pass out. 
“Y/N, I didn’t ever want to lose you because I know I would lose myself. But then I lost you. And I lost myself.” His sobs strangle you by the throat.
“Taehyung, I’m sorry. About everything I’ve done. It’s all my fault and I will always hate myself for hurting you so much.” A single tear rolls down your face, you can’t hold it in anymore. Then a second, third. At the unstoppable oceans pouring from his eyes, you feel destroyed.
“I don’t even care about that! I’m not hurt by Junho or Jimin, I don’t care. Having to wake up every day knowing that you’re not beside me has been the most painful thing I’ve had to deal with. You are my home, Y/N. I don’t want to live in a life that you’re not a part of. I just can’t live without you and I can’t stand it. I can’t- I can’t...”
“Then don’t.”
Confusion draws his browns into a frown. “What?” His face is still warped in pain. You can’t stand it anymore either.
“Then don’t live without me.”
Your teeth dig into your lip to stop your own bawling.
All this conflict back and forth has taken such a toll on you and what for? At the end of the day, one unwavering fact stands true and untested: you love each other no matte what. So why should you let mistakes of the past keep you apart?
“What?” He says again, though understanding starts to seep through.
“I love you, Taehyung. I can’t not love you. I’m not myself if I don’t. So let’s stop this bullshit. I can’t live without you and you can’t live without me. So then let’s not leave each other again.”
You stare at each other, on this cool February night, warm water gurgling up to your collars, the cloudless night sky flaunting it’s collection of stars. And you promise to stay by each other for as long as you live.
“Okay.” That’s all Taehyung can muster.
“I’m yours, Taehyung. My heart is completely yours forever.” His violent flow of tears subside into gentle trickles.
“Okay.” He stands up in the tub, and you mirror his action. Water weeps off your skin, inviting the cold to infiltrate.
Nothing more needs to be said. Your mouths find each other the way they always do, the crashing of your lips, scraping of your teeth. A new tear rolls off Taehyung’s face and onto your fused lips, but it’s different this time. They’re tears of insuppressable joy, knowing that the taste of your tongue is entirely his, the porcelain of your skin is entirely his. You’re shivering from the temperature of the night, but you don’t feel the cold.
His hands come behind your thighs and lift you up to his face level, wrapping your legs around your torso the way he did in Mykonos. With careful steps, he carries you back into the room, past the bed, that poor couch that was collateral damage to your mutual pining, and sets you down onto the bathroom countertop.
When he finally breaks away from the kiss and takes in your beauty under the bright light of the room, there is no less than absolute adoration in his eyes. Never anything less. “I love you and I’m yours.”
Taehyung wraps the only massive white towel he can find around your wet naked body, disregarding the cold attacking his own. You frown at him, hooking him between your legs so you can fling the towel over his shoulders as well.
“I love you and I’m yours.” You say back, blotting his body dry. It’s such a simple statement, yet the meaning it holds for the two of you is so heavy. They’re the very words that you have never found the strength to say to each other, until now.
“Say that again.” You melt under his smile, not a single trace of worry to be found in your brain.
“I love you. And I’m yours.”
You twist your neck back to follow his glare at reflection in the mirror of your huddled bodies under the towel. Cheeks pushed up from glee, heads leaning against each other, and just like that - all your heartache vanishes without a trace.
“Mine?” Taehyung pecks your brow, still smiling.
“Yours.” Legs clamping around him tighter, you turn to face him. “And how are you this hard again already?” His cock’s ability to stay erect is astounding, truly.
“Don’t you know? You could breathe and my cock would be hard.” Laughter erupts both your chests and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.
Allowing the towel to drop around you, your hand slips between your bodies to clutch onto his length. Responsiveness ripples through his toned abdomen. “I want to suck…” You nuzzle your nose to his, your breaths amalgamating.
Taehyung sighs into your mouth. “But I want to-” Your grip tightens around him as you drag out a pump, eyes wide with feign innocence. “Okay, what the fuck, that’s not fair.”
“You’ll get to do whatever you want to me after.” You trail your mouth along his jaw.
“F-Fine.”
He lets you slide off the marble counter with the skin of his neck pinched between your teeth. When he realises that you’re marking him in clouds of purple, his head falls back and gives himself up as your canvas. You understand the appeal of hickeys now. For you two, it’s an agreement, a promise, an exchange of trust. You continue down his front, teeth grazing his nipples, lower and lower, kissing along the protrusion of his pelvic bone. Until you arrive at his cock.
“Do you remember the whole ice cube thing during the heatwave?” You run your finger up his length, over his oozing slit. The heatwave feels like an eon ago, but also like just yesterday.
Stiffening, Taehyung looks down. “Yes…”
“How about I pay you back for that one?” You take his shut eyes and sparse nod as compliance because you know he’s not capable of words right now.
You dash away to collect a glass of ice from the drink cooler, but on your way find something even better. Something you’ve always wanted to try.
Taehyung is slowly touching himself when you return, mildly surprised by the second item you brought back with you. “Whipped cream? Isn’t that from the gift basket?”
“You up for it?” A smirk stretches.
“Very up and very hard.” He lets go of his member and watches you drop to your knees.
To moisten him first, you slowly lap circles around his head, applying considerable pressure and letting the tip of your tongue tease at his sensitive opening. You look up when he moans, and takes his girth into your mouth, sliding his cock further and further down your throat until he pokes the back. Then you pull up with a pop, echoing within the walls of the bathroom.
You take two ice cubes from the glass, one placed between your lips, and the other to massage over your clit. The icy sensation strikes a numbing sensation into your core when it touches your bud of nerves. The cube in your mouth, you begin to trace slowly from the base of his shaft all the way up.
A string of profanities leaves Taehyung at the temperature, and seeds a satisfaction between your legs.
The ice is melting quickly from the heat of your mouth so you waste no time to guide it down to his scrotum resting on your palm. “Fuck.” He whines, his whole length twitching.
When this cube dissolves into nothing but a puddle of your tongue, you take another, ruthlessly educing those curses from him. His tip is the most sensitive part of him, so that’s where you focus on, smearing the edges of the cube around the curve of his head. His thighs tense in euphoric spasms.
The whipped cream comes next. With a few shakes of the canister, you hold his cock pointed towards yourself and view the spiral of white untainted cream unfold onto his head.
“Ah!” Taehyung yelps.
“You good?” You glance up to check that he still has a rein on his sanity.
“It just scared me.” You chuckle and place a kiss on his shaft.
“You should be scared.”
Eyes lock on his, you watch him watch you vulgarly smear the cream all over his cock with your lips. Its sweetness oozes into your mouth and sinks into your tongue. “Mmm.” You hum at the pleasant taste. Then you start to suck, the cream providing you with a lubrication that your spit has never been able to replicate. His cock glides into your mouth with such little resistance that you gag around him.
“Oh fuck, that feels so good.” He can’t look away from you, your hollowed out cheeks and large eyes as you bob your head deeper and deeper. Ribald wet sloppy noises squeaking from your mouth. “Uh fuck.”
Taehyung’s fingers entangle in your hair, guiding your motion in and out. The cream swirls in your mouth, the taste prompting you to suck harder until your mouth adheres like a second skin to his cock. He’s soon panting, even as you come up for air and to spray more cream on him.
“Yeah, keep going. Can I come in your mouth?” His eyes are almost screwed shut, but still open to keep watching. The rise and fall of his chest, and the bulging vein down the side of his cock - he’s close.
You keep sucking, relishing in the taste of the cream, the ease at which his tip glides along your throat, your own fluid dripping from your cunt.
“Fuc- Ah!” Gripping your hair tight, he thrusts hard into you as he cums, ribbons of his own cream mixing in your mouth. Taehyung’s dick pulses violently at the shaft. You watch his jaw fall open, brows pinch together, as the liquid dribbles down your throat.
You pull his length out of you with a great gasp and swallow all the remnants. “Shit. How was that?” Out of breath, you wipe the mess around your mouth with the dropped towel.
“Give me a second to recover from that, baby.” Arms on the countertop to support him, Taehyung lets his head droop back so far that his hair touches his elbows. You wet the towel at the sink and clean his slowly limping member. “Fuck that was…”
When his eyes open again, there is a fury that you know to be afraid of. He hauls you up onto your two feet and latch onto your lips, not caring about the filthy things they’ve just done to him.
“I need to be inside you.” He grumbles. “Give me five, ten minutes and I'll be ready again.”
“Hmm.” Arms sliding around his neck, you let him walk you onto the bed, hovering over you while his hands fondle your breasts that have become lonely. The insides of your thighs are slick with your arousal - that doesn’t go unnoticed.
Scissoring your folds open with his long digits, this thumb finds your clit, bulging and throbbing with desire. The vibrations coursing into you as he starts to rub compels you to arch back. You are really just a plaything when under his touch, as malleable as dough.
“Taehyung!” And for some reason, you calling out his name flips an animalistic switch in him.
With your neck fully exposed, he ceases the opportunity to nibble all over your unmarred skin, leaving angry blotches in return of your marks on him. This thumb is working quickly, the pressure at your clit superimposing second by second.
“Wait.” He lifts his head up abruptly, though fingers still going. “Do you want to sit on my face?”
Your heart jolts in excitement at the mere mention of it. “Didn’t even have to ask.” It has always been something you’ve wanted to try but never gotten around to.
Swapping positions, Taehyung reclines onto his back while you situate your knees on either side of his face. His hands grip onto your waist, guiding your descent onto his thrill-teeming face.
An incredible shock of pleasure fires up your spine when he takes your clit between his lips and sucks. This position grants him an unobstructed access to your pussy, no awkward angle, no cramping neck. So the assail he commences is totally, and unfortunately for your lucidity, merciless. His hands grapple onto your freely hanging breasts, rolling your nipples between fingertips.
Crying aloud from the ecstatic twisting sensation, you feel your eyes water. It’s almost too much, the mind warping accumulation of tension in your cunt. “Like that, Taehyung.”
One of his hands leaves your breast only to insert his digits into your dripping slit. Your thighs are aching, close to giving way; you don’t think you can withstand this tremendous stimulation.
His tongue doesn’t stop and neither do his fingers. Breathing through his nose heavily, he continues to coil your core into loops and loops of hypertension
You’re so close, so close.
And you’re there.
The pulsing waves of your orgasm sweep you away. You don’t even hear your own moans, just the roaring of your blood in your ears. Your whole body writhes above Taehyung, but your muscles don’t permit you to move off him while so ransacked by this high.
It last long, nearing half a minute before your senses come back to you.
And finally, you sag and topple over, trusting Taehyung to catch you and roll you onto your back.
“What the fuck.” You pant, low frequency pulsations still resonating down your legs, in awe of how he never fails to tip you over the edge. And the striking difference between the male and female orgasm is that, unlike Taehyung, you immediately want more when you’re done. “Taehyung, please, I need you to fuck me.”
His reply startles you. “No.” You open your eyes and find him regarding you with such reverence that only confuses you more.
“No?”
Cupping your face in his palm as he props himself on his elbow over you, Taehyung leans down and kisses your nose. Then your mouth. “Y/N.” Your temple. “I want to.” Your ear. “Make love to you.”
He paints a constellation of wet kisses all over you.
“How does that sound, baby?”
You immediately pull him back onto your own lips, a desperate craving as you kiss him back hard. “I love you.” You really do. It’s the one thing you’re the most certain about in this world.
“Ahhh.” Readjusting over you yet still keeping the close distance between your faces, he takes his cock in his hand and pumps. “You know you do to me when you say those words?” He kisses you again, so softly that his lips feel like rose petals. As he lines his tips along your entrance, you shut your eyes and prepare for it.
“I love you.” You repeat. And he sinks in.
It feels different, so entirely different from the previous time tonight. There is not an ounce of concern, of doubt, of hesitancy. You feel safe underneath him, secure.
His tender moans unravelling into songs of vulnerability. “I love you, too.” He whispers into your ear, and you understand what he means by how much these three words have an effect because them alone are almost enough to capsize you again.
His thrust, though lacking its usual roughness, does not lack in anything else. Every time he plummets into you, his mouth finds yours. Your hands are interlocked, pinned down onto the pillow. The surprising intimacy of that act overflowing to the brim. And you swear you could see heaven right then and there.
You feel nothing but love and devotion throughout.
He makes love to you over and over again this night, Valentine’s night. And despite your usual preferences, the sensations between your legs, in your chest, in your mind, are unrivaled.
Transcendental.
When it’s all over, when you’re nothing more than sweaty skin, damp hair, and hearts full of love for each other, you spend your time taking in each other’s details. His unblemished complexion. The beauty mark under the lashes of his right eye. The perfect shape of his cupid's bow that doesn’t seem humanly possible. Everything.
“What we had didn’t work, but we’re not going to repeat those mistakes again, I won’t hurt you again, I promise.” You whisper softly as you caress his cheek. “It’s all or nothing. And you have all of me.”
The glaze over his sincere eyes hasn’t left yet, though you don’t suppose your eyes are completely dry either.
You continue, “Seeing you break down like that today was… the hardest thing for me to witness. So much worse that our stupid pointless fights, and the nights where I would cry myself to sleep. And I can’t apologise enough for causing you that much pain.”
Taehyung’s eyes trailing down bashfully, and you almost worry that he’d cry again.. “I… I can’t believe the day finally came where I cried during sex…” You let out a round of laughter at what he chooses to dwell on.
“I love you so much that it makes me sick. I’m honestly disgusted and mortified by myself.” You snicker in his hair.
“Look, what about me? I love you so much that I cried during sex. Not even just a tear either. Full on sobs. I think I’m the bigger loser here.” The fact that he can joke about the situation reassures you that he’s over it. The mood once again lightens.
“All this just because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants during a heatwave.”
He pulls you closer into his rumbling chest, laughing to himself as he toys with your earlobe between his teeth.
You fall asleep in each other’s arms, for the first time as each other’s lovers. And for the rest of the nights that come after.
.
A/N: Alexa, play ‘Fuck it I love you’ by Lana Del Rey.
Thank you everyone for the incredible love and support you’ve unfailingly shown Heatwave. As my first fic, I am of course so very attached to these characters and ending this series is such a bittersweet feeling. It’s been such a lovely journey to write this couple and although I don’t plan on writing anything for them in the next few months, I won’t close off that possibility completely.
Love you!
- Kristy
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27/04/20
© Copyright 2020
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statticscribbles · 4 years
Text
Abandoned 10
Summary: Jasper Hale/Reader
This is the tenth piece in my Abandoned Series; the continuation of this imagine can be provided by: two or more requests for it in the ask box
Jasper is much quieter than Edward about his relationship, he carefully explains to you how his family reacted last time a human had been brought around, mumbling the family drama in between kisses.
“Wait so basically you guys caught the attention of the vampire mafia and they just left you alone?” Jasper laughs a little. “Somewhat, they’ll probably try again, it’s kind of why I’m trying to keep you hidden, the more safety the better.” “And the massive pack of werewolves isn’t enough?” “It helps, but I prefer more low-key anyways.” You nod curling into his chest. “I prefer it too, wouldn’t want everyone giving me stares for taking Jasper Hale away from their daydreams.” He laughs again and shakes his head. “Edward’s heard their daydreams, being in a relationship doesn’t stop them. You should hear some of the things he hears about Bella.” You smile. He turns to the window, watching the sun dip. “Time’s up huh?” He nods kissing you and sliding out the window.
You’re shuffling through the halls trying to avoid everyone as usual. You can see the Cullen’s resting in their usual spot by the wall. You slide past them, refusing to look as you can feel their eyes on you. It lasts less than a few seconds before you’re on your way to English. You slip into your seat grimacing as the teacher starts to talk about your next project. Math is less exciting your teacher scolding you for your low score on the last test. You nod, making your way to lunch. You sit at the edge of the cafeteria, you watch the Cullen’s out of the corner of your eye as everyone does. You let your thoughts drift, already you can feel the anxiety bubbling under your chest as you think of your mother visiting this weekend. You know she’ll ask all sorts of questions and snap at you. You rub your hands over your head and sigh, dragging yourself from the cafeteria and start walking home. You can feel Jasper’s eyes lingering on you as you leave. You make it home unlocking your door and wincing as you can hear your mother moving around upstairs.
“Mom! I got off early! Uncle Evan isn’t here. He’s at work and-“ You mother appears on the stairs frowning. “Your room is a mess, and the other rooms are so dusty.” “I don’t go into any other rooms besides mine and the bathroom. Downstairs is much nicer it’s where we spend most of our time.” You mother nods settling herself on the couch and waiting expectantly. “Where’s dad?” “He couldn’t make it, work is taking up all his time as usual.” You nod. Sitting awkwardly in the armchair. “I can call Evan and see if he can come home and-“ “I already called him. He’s on his way.” “Of course. Tea?” You hold out a mug and she nods to the table where you place it, you can hear the door open and sigh gratefully as your uncle walks through. “Hey Vivian.” “Evan.” She nods and he scowls. “You weren’t supposed to be coming up for another week. Why so early?” You watch your mother frown. “I wasn’t sure how I’d find the house if you had time to prepare and clean everything.” She huffs.
“Well as I’m sure your daughter has told you we only spend time downstairs.” He rolls his eyes and your mother nods turning to you. “Don’t you have homework?” You nod using the excuse to rush upstairs and into your room. You scowl, your books and everything on your shelves having been moved. You turn when you see Jasper standing against your closet. “Your mom seems, detail orientated.” You turn frowning shifting your books from alphabetical order back to how they were organized. Jasper freezes, sliding out of the window winking as you turn your mother barging in. “You uncle assured me you’re fine here. I’m leaving now.” She pulls you into a surprisingly warm hug and holds you for a moment. “You can come home anytime you need.” “I know mom, I know. I like it here, the weather is perfect.” She laughs as the rain picks up. “Of course you love it here, it’s always raining. The forest looks incredible, don’t wander too far.” She kisses your forehead and turns to the door. “Hey mom, don’t be a stranger, but please plan your visits.”
“Of course, now I have quite a drive ahead of me.” She smiles and you follow her down hugging her at the door. You turn to your uncle as she drives away. “Wow thirty minutes, record visit.” He laughs and you nod. “How was it?” He shrugs and you nod again. “She complained how messy the house is, I told her she was welcome to stay, she refused, as usual. And said she hopes you’re keeping your grades up and that no boys are distracting you.” He laughs a little and you squirm under his gaze. “Besides that crush you have, and yes it’s totally a crush. No one’s caught your interest?” You shake your head face pinking. “You should ask him for dinner, or whatever kids do these days, actually don’t do that, be safe. Consent and all that.” You frown at him. “Sorry was that too awkward?” “I haven’t even talked to him outside school. We’re not even friends.” You shrug and he pulls you into a side hug. “Seriously kid, just another half year to go and then you can go wherever you want. I know this is tough, it’s just till you’re 18.” You nod looking nervously back up the stairs. “She mess up your room again?” You nod shrugging a little. “Hey, you going to be alright?”
“Yeah. Just sucks being reminded I have no friends or really anyone besides you here. I don’t mind, but sometimes it hurts a little.” You shrug again and your uncle pulls you into a full hug. “Well how about after school tomorrow we go up to the river spot you like so much, I have the day off anyways.” He smiles crookedly and you return his hug. “I’d love that.” “No go up and fix your room before you have a panic attack.” Jasper’s still gone when you get back up and you finish rearranging your books and shelf, before putting away your laundry and starting your homework. It’s after ten when you give up hope of him reappearing, instead curling under your covers and trying to sleep.
You wake up groggy and shower, shoving yourself into your clothes and out the door. Your uncle drives you to school and as you get out you’re surprised to see the Cullen’s absent. The rain is pelting your already wet hair and you can feel your uncle’s chiding voice digging into your ears about how you’ll get sick. You skid into class curling against the radiator that you’re thankfully sat next to. You’re walking toward your usual table in lunch when Jasper arm swings around you and pulls you to his table. You blink up at him as he stretches sitting in his usual spot gesturing to the chair he pulled over. “Sit.” You obey nervously looking to the rest of his family. “We know you know. Jasper told us everything last night.” You blink at Edward. “So is the vampire mafia going to kill me now?” Emmett laughs smiling. Rosalie rolls her eyes. “I like her. You have good taste.” Emmett smiles at you and you shift in your chair. “Really hoping that’s not a double entendre.” Emmett laughs more. And Edward grimaces. “Jasper, really? Can you please not.” Jasper blinks at him and then smirks. “Feeling it is worse.” Edward scowls and you look confused. “What happened?” Bella smiles her voice lowering.
“Edward can read minds, Jasper can sense and change emotions, Edward more than likely heard Jasper’s thoughts, which Edward has had similar, so Edward trying to call him out on it is silly, especially when feeling things is worse than just thinking them.” She high fives Jasper who smirks again at Edward. “Wait, so you can just make people happy whenever you want?” “Yes. I can also-“ “Why’s Edward so grumpy then.” Rosalie laughs this time. “Esme is going to love her.” “Oh I forgot to tell you, I’m going hiking with my uncle later today! So I’m busy. Sorry.” You frown at the last part and Jasper pulls you closer. “It’s okay, Emmett and I were going to go hiking as well, less hiking more predators.” You frown twining your hands together. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Just a couple of bears.” Emmett shrugs. “No I mean the rangers put out a new limit on hunting, they’re checking everyone that comes in and out of the forests.” You chew your lip. “We’re going past Seattle to get it.” You nod appeased for the moment they wont be in danger. Emmett walks you to your shared biology class. “You do realize we’re like the worlds top predators, and we don’t exactly use guns, this isn’t anymore dangerous than you going to a café for a coffee.” You frown at him. “I just don’t want any of you to get hurt. It wouldn’t sit well with me.” He rolls his eyes.
You’re standing outside waiting for your uncle as he finishes getting his camera ready for the hike. He appears, locking the door and you both start up into the forest. “It’s nice you’re so easy to please you know, most kids want expensive shit and you lose your shit when it rains, it’s great. I’ve never saved this much money on Christmas and birthdays before.” He laughs and you nod jogging ahead excitedly. He overtakes you easily and you can hear his startled gasp. There are two wolves across the river. One a sandy blond, and the other a light gray almost silver, you uncle looks overjoyed, and you can see his camera moving. You’re nervous, they look huge, too big to be wolves and you hope Jasper hasn’t run into them; they look like they could do serious damage. You uncle steps forward and the wolves take no notice, you creep forward with him but hover back as he leans over the edge of the river on his stomach to try to get a better angle. He pulls himself back up and you can see the wolves have noticed growling and snarling as he nervously backs up, slipping and twisting his ankle as he stumbles from the river’s edge. The sudden movement he makes startles you, the muddy edge also claiming you as victim as you slip backwards gashing your head on a rock. You hiss, feeling slightly dizzy as you stumble towards your uncle.
“Shit.” He hisses and you nervously hover, half trying to drag him towards the trail. It takes you an extra two hours but you both manage to make it back to the house where you uncle hobbles to his car and insists you’re both going to the hospital.
“I’m fine! It was just a little rock is all. Nothing. Nothing bad.” You clutch your head wincing as the lights seem to distort for a moment. You can see the nurse who’s bandaging up your uncles ankle frown and call someone over. “Hello there. While I’d prefer we meet under better circumstances, let’s have a look.” You hiss and try to jerk away as the man shines a light into your eyes, you thrust your hands out trying to shove him away. “Warn me next time, it hurts.” “The light hurts?” He sounds worried. “I have a migraine from the rock.” You think he nods, but he carefully picks you up and places you on a hospital bed. “Just to check. I don’t think anything is wrong it’s a safety measure.” You can hear him talking to your uncle and then you start to fall asleep. The man shakes you awake scowling.
“Don’t sleep.” You nod blinking more as the bright light is suddenly gone from your vision. You recongnise you’re getting a MRI and the darkness seems to help clear your head. You don’t feel tired anymore or dizzy and as you wait for the nurse to come pull you out you hope you uncle is okay. “All done sweetheart, now lets get you seated here and-“ You cringe when the light’s flicker on. “Don’t worry we’ll move you to a dark room. We just have to get there first.” You nod keeping your eyes shut as you feel the hospital bed enter a darkened area. “There.” You open your eyes smiling at your uncle who’s leg is propped up. “Broke it.” You wince. The doctor comes in. “I’m going to shine this in your eyes now, try not to slap me again.” Your uncle laughs and you bite your lip. “Sorry about her Dr. Cullen.” “Just Carlisle is fine. Well seems everything is fine, you don’t have a serious concussion, and no sign of any other damage besides that cut, which we stitched up and your wrist.”
“Wait I have stitches?” Carlisle nods. “You kept your eyes closed so I just went ahead and saved you the trouble.” He smiles holding out a needle and thread that’s packed in a little sterile pocket. “What about my wrist?” You turn noting the cast for the first time. “Shit.” You blink at him and he smiles. “Just temporary, it’s not broken, but I figured it might be better than a sprain brace, they tend to make it worse before they get better.” “Thanks.” You nod. “Can we go home now?” Carlisle nods and you stand up swaying slightly as you uncle moves forward on his crutches. “My son offered to drive you home.” You uncle nods in thanks and you make your way to the car staring at Emmett in the drivers seat. He smirks. “Your chauffer has arrived.” He swings himself out opening the doors and helping your uncle in. You slid in while he’s fussing with the crutches and Emmett smiles starting the car and driving to your house.
“My dad was saying you drove here with a broken ankle. Very dangerous.” He tuts chuckling as you uncle laughs. “It wasn’t broken when I got in the car.” “So the car broke it?” Emmett turns eyeing the cast you have. “Can I sign it?” You nod holding it out as he pulls a marker out from his pocket. He smiles at you and opens the door after he takes your uncles keys. “Do you want me to do anything else? Take out trash? Laundry?” “You’ve done more than enough thank you. We can handle it from here.” “Make sure to elevate it!” He calls out as the closes the door.
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Come Away With Me
Come Away With Me
Pairing: Captain Syverson x Reader
Song Prompt: Come Away with Me by Norah Jones https://youtu.be/JRHTXFIKfFs
Rating: F for Feels, mentions of adult content (sexxxxx)
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 “Come away with me in the night, Come away with me”
It started on your honeymoon. The annual trips to Sy’s family cabin in the mountains. You had gotten married when he was still a private and basically broke. There’d been no money for a real honeymoon, but his grandparents had been kind enough to offer their beautiful cabin to you for 2 weeks for free. You had been skeptical but Sy had assured you that it’d be a good time so you’d agreed and you were so glad that you did.
Nestled at the base of the mountains, the cabin was peaceful and close to a lake that Sy told you he’d grown up swimming in during his childhood and well into his teens. Surrounded by nothing but the beautiful woods and wildlife, you’d smiled at him wickedly as you begin to strip off of your shorts and t-shirt, eager to jumpstart your honeymoon by skinny dipping. Sy’d eagerly followed you in the brisk water and so began your honeymoon.
It stormed the second night in, with the power knocked out and nothing lighting the cabin but the fire place and old lanterns that his grandparents had stored away for moments like these, Sy’d made love to you in front of the fire on the softest quilt you’d even felt. Wrapped up together, basking in the afterglow, head resting on Sy’s chest you were lulled to sleep by the sound of the rain on the tin roof. Sy pressed a kiss to your forehead and heaved a satisfied sigh.
              “I love you, Bug,” he drawled, sleepily, drawing circles with his calloused finger at the top of your spine.
You shivered and run a finger over the beaded chain of his dog tags. “I love you too, Sy.”
 From then on, it began the tradition for the two of you, after every deployment to spend a few weeks reconnecting at his grandparents cabin. And when they passed, they’d left the cabin and what little patch of land they owned to you and Sy. Excited that your favorite getaway was now yours, the two of you had set to sprucing it up a bit, updating the furniture and giving it a fresh coat of paint to make it feel like it was really yours.
 And eventually when life got to busy, between kids, work and Sy’s seemingly never ending deployments trips to the cabin fell to the wayside. So when Sy came home for good and he felt like he couldn’t breathe under the weight of civilian life. You arranged for your parents to watch your kids and packed Sy’s duffle and waited for him to come home from the gym.
When he walked through the door, he found you sitting on the stairs surrounded by a few weekend bags.
              “You leavin’ me, Bug?” he asked after a few moments of silence.
You shake your head. “No, never, I’m asking you to come away with me, just for the weekend.”
              He wets his lips, “What about the kids?”
“They’re with my parents and I’ve sorted everything. Please, just come away with me.”
              “Where too, Bug?”
A slow grin broke on your face. “Our oasis, baby.”
              A wave of joy passed over his face as his shoulder relaxed. “The cabin?”
You nod and stand, walking towards him slowly.
              He opens his arms to you and you slip into them, pressing yourself tightly to his chest as you hug him.
“Everything has gotten in the way of us lately and I don’t wanna neglect our marriage. I don’t look up one day at 65 and realize I don’t know the man sleeping next to me anymore. I want us to grow together not apart and I think that we need some alone time to get back us.”
              He rubs your back, “Think we can ever be those people again, Bug?”
You nod, “I do, Sy, I really do and if we can’t go back, we need to fall in love with the new versions of each other. Because I can’t life without you.”
              He pulls away and lifts your hand with a gently hand, “I’ll never stop loving you, Bug, that I know for sure. No matter what version or what ever color your hair ends up or you lose that banging bod. You’re always gonna be my beautiful, beautiful, too good for me wife.”
Your lip wobbles and you press up on your toes to kiss him softly. “I’ll love you forever, Jake Syverson.”
              He smiles, “Thank fuckin’ god for that baby.”
You smile and he slips from your arms to pick up the duffle bags
. “I’ll the load the car up and then take a shower. Have you already got groceries for the cabin? If not, you wanna run out while I’m in the shower?”
You give him a little salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”
              His eyes darken, “Save that for the bedroom, baby, I don’t wanna drive 4 hours with a hard on.”
You giggle, “Sorry, Captain.”
              He groans, “You’re killin’ me, Bug.”
You grab your keys and follow him out to the car.
 “I want to walk with you, On a cloudy day, In fields where the yellow grass grows knee-high, So won't you try to come. Come away with me and we'll kiss, On a mountaintop, Come away with me, And I'll never stop loving you”
2 days later
You and Sy walk hand in hand through the meadow. The yellow green grass blowing around your knees, the sun trying to push through the cloudy sky. The breeze is balmy and the what sun that peaks through is warm. Sy looks lighter, younger than he has in almost a decade and for the first time in years you get a glimpse of the young man you married. The two of you still just kids playing house, you lift his hand and press a kiss to his knuckles.
“Love you,” you whisper against his scarred hands.
              “Love you more, Bug,” he replies, voice sticky and warm as it washes over you.
You smile and turn your face to the sun as it breaks through the clouds. Everything was going to be okay.
Tagging: @angryschnauzer @persephone-is-here-omg​ @salimahbicharara-comun​ @henrythickcavill​ @cavillryarchive​ @geralt-of-baevia​ @madbaddic7ed​ @poledancingdinos​ @inlovewithhisblueeyes​ @hoeforhenry​ @hope-to-hell​ @connieisland​ @feralrunaway​ @viking-raider​ @maizyistrash​ @iloveyouyen​ @hell1129-blog​ @raspberrydreamclouds​ @summersong69​ @asylummara​
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petri808 · 3 years
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Inukag AU
There was a genuine smile on Kagome’s face as she sat on her bed quietly while her family and friends did what they could to try and jog her memory. It was about 3 months since the accident and today the bed was littered with photo albums, old letters, newspapers from her college days that Sango had saved, or her mother pulled from her old bedroom, really anything they could think of to provide visuals. She didn’t want them to feel bad for her predicament, so thought it best to go along with it. They probably knew— she didn’t recognize any of it but bless them for playing along as she nodded or chuckled at appropriate times or patiently waited as she stared at certain items longer than she should have. Because Kagome really wanted to remember.
But in reality, all the words and images were viewed through a strangers lens. Yes, she recognized certain people, but not everyone or the situation in the photos. For Kagome, her last recollections end shortly after graduating college. She knew Sango since they’d been friends, but barely remembered Miroku. To her Miroku was still the boyfriend of less than a year, not a husband and certainly not a father to the couples 1 year old twin girls. Sango was her best friend, so to not remember the wedding or the birth of the twins who based on the photos were precious to her... hurt. There she was in those pictures holding one newborn in each arm, beaming at becoming an aunty, and no recollection of it.
“Tomorrow is the weekend, so we can video chat with Sota,” Mrs. Higurashi reminded her daughter. “I’ve been keeping him updated by text.”
“Where is he again?” Kagome asked.
“In Hawaii, at the University of Hilo.”
“Oh... right,” Kagome chuckled. “I forgot.”
“That’s okay, dear. Sota is in his senior year now and will be coming home in December after graduation.”
“I hope I’m well enough to fly there for the graduation.”
“I think you will be,” her mother smiled softly. “There’s always hope.”
Yeah... hope. It was the only thing keeping Kagome from breaking down. Each night as she drifted to sleep, she’d remind herself of the temporary nature of her condition. Truth or not, it was worth clinging to. Earlier her mother told her of how she’d flown to Hawaii to help Sota settle into his dorm. As the big sister, she was so proud of him, but again Kagome had no recollection of this event and only Hawaiian vacation pictures to prove its truth. Still, she was happy that her brother had grown up so much. The sense of pride she must have felt at the time was renewed in the new knowledge.
She didn’t remember a lot, but there were moments that brought tears to her eyes for more than one reason. Take the other day when Sango and Miroku brought the twins for a visit. The children remembered their Aunty Kagome and quickly reached out with their small hands to her. It brought out tears from the happy emotions such adorable faces could provoke in anyone, yet also tears of frustration for not knowing them at all. Clearly, they loved her, and she wanted to love them too. Bless them, showing concern for her tears, reaching out to Kagome’s face as if to soothe the adult. So, realizing her effect, she quickly smiled and told them she was just happy to see them.
“It’s still a little weird,” Kagome confided to Sango one day, “because my only memory of Miroku is of an annoying guy following you around while still checking out other girls.”
Sango laughed, “he still an annoying guy at times, but it’s true, he has settled down since those days.”
“What was it that finally changed your mind about Miroku?”
“Oh, um actually we’d had a fight... a really big fight over his behavior and I put my foot down. It was me or them because I wasn’t gonna put up with it anymore. I guess the proverbial slap to his face woke him up.”
Kagome chuckled. “It does appear to have worked. But it was obvious how much he loved you despite the stupid things he did.”
Sango nodded. “True. If I didn’t think so too, I would have just walked away and not looked back. Sometimes guys literally need a harsh wake up a call to realize what they’re about to lose.”
That made Kagome think about the supposed fight with Inuyasha on the night of her accident, because it resembled the predicament Sango went through. She frowned. “Why are guys like that?”
Sango shrugged. “If we ever found an answer to that question, we’d be rich.”
Kagome snorted a laugh. “Agreed. We could make money writing self-help books.”
The girls shared a laugh before moving on to other subjects, but as the day grew late, Kagome suddenly sank down on the bed. There was a question she’d been wanting to ask, and though Inuyasha would be the better one to ask, he was still a strangers in her eyes. At least with Sango, she knew she could trust her friend to tell her the truth.
“Before you go, Sango, I have something to ask about.”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Could you tell me how I met Inuyasha? Tell me what you know about our relationship?”
Sango’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Hasn’t Inu told you anything?”
Kagome looked down. “He has told me things, but I— I still don’t know if I should trust him. I mean... I know my mom loves him and that tells me a lot, but it doesn’t change the fact he’s just a stranger at this point for me— it’s,” she shrugged, “awkward.”
“Oh... Guess I never thought of it that way.” Sango reached out and took her Kagome’s hand. “I’d be happy to answer your questions. It’s okay that it’s awkward, that’s understandable so don’t push yourself to accept things just to accept them, but even I would agree with your mom, he’s probably told you the truth.”
“You think so?”
Sango squeezed her friends hand and chuckled. “Yeah. I didn’t like him at first, but the guy really grew on me. Try it, test me,” she coaxed Kagome. “Ask me about something he told you and let’s see if my answers are the same.”
Kagome smiled and sat back for a moment in thought. “What’s something questionable...” she tapped her chin. “The first date he took me on was to a ramen restaurant. Which is not very romantic if you’re trying to woo someone. So, it sounds true and preposterous at the same time. He said he was so nervous that he accidentally spilled a drink on me. I wondered if he told me that just to be funny and endearing, but it never actually happened.”
“Oh,” Sango burst out laughing, “it definitely did happen! You’d told him to pick somewhere he loved to go and Inu’s favorite meal is ramen, so that’s what he picked. And the drink. It was a pink cocktail that stained your dress. You were so annoyed!” She giggled again. “But it was obvious how nervous he was, and I remember how you told me it was cute to see him get all flustered.”
“Oh, wow,” Kagome laughed too. “I guess I have to believe it now. Tell me more.”
“Hmm,” Sango pondered. “He was so nervous to even ask you out, Miroku had to ask you for him.”
“What?!” Kagome gasped and snorted a laugh. “And I’d still said yes?!”
“Yeah, because by then you liked him too. It took... if I remember correctly a year of interactions just for him to gain that much courage.” At that point Sango’s voice quieted. “I don’t know if he’s told you this part yet but, Inu was a broken person when you’d first met.”
“No, he hasn’t.” Kagome leaned forward with interest. “What do you mean?”
“At the time he’d already been broken up with Kikyo for 4 or 5 years I think, but he hadn’t fully moved on yet. I can’t say he still loved her. I think it was more just loneliness. His mother died when he was young as well. So, I think the combination of losing the two most important women in his life left him depressed.”
“Wow...”
“I knew him as Miroku’s brooding coworker, how my husband tolerated that I have no idea, but they were close friends. When we’d introduced you to him, things slowly began to change. You almost made it a mission to help him get out of it.” Sango chuckled lightly. “You know how you are, always trying to help people. At first, Inu resisted, but you didn’t let up and slowly but surely broke through his defenses. He became a puppy dog around you, totally head over heels in love.” She smiled. “It was fun and so cute for us to watch it all happen.”
“I wish I remembered any of this,” Kagome sighed.
“You will. You’ve never been a quitter, so I truly believe you will get your memory back.”
“Thanks, Sango. All of your guys help really means a lot to me.”
Sango reached out and hugged her friend. “I know you’d do the same for me.” She sat back in her chair. “It’s tough now, and I know you described Inuyasha as a stranger, but treat it as if you’re dating a new guy with all those heart racing, excitements that come with it. I see how you look at him.” She teased. “You must at least thinks he’s cute?”
Kagomes cheeks flushed pink. “Is it that obvious?”
“Oh, yeah,” Sango giggled and squeezed her friends hand. “If all you do is focus on this situation, you won’t start to live again. They’re releasing you to go home in a couple weeks, so have a little fun with him. Create some new memories.”
“Maybe you’re right... maybe I will try to think about it that way.” Kagome tips her head slightly. “It is kinda fun to feel those giddy girly emotions when I see him.”
Speaking of. The girls hear a knock at the door and turn to see Inuyasha walking in with a bouquet of flowers and a bag of take-out food. “Hey gorgeous and Sango.”
It set off another rush of heat to Kagome’s face. “Hi,” she squeaked out.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Sango stood up with a wink. “See you tomorrow.” She hugged her best friend and left the room.
Inuyasha took the seat beside Kagome and handed her the flowers. “How are you feeling today?”
“Mmm, it was good chatting with Sango.” She held the flowers up to her nose to smell them while keeping her eyes on him. “Thank you for the flowers, they’re beautiful.”
“Beautiful women deserve beautiful flowers,” he smiled back and held up a bag. “Hope you’re hungry. I brought dinner since hospital food must be getting boring by now.”
“Aww, that’s thoughtful of you, cause yes,” Kagome sighed, “it is.”
Inuyasha chuckled, then pulled out the containers of food. He handed Kagome a plate. “It’s salmon nitsuke.”
“Oh, yes!” Kagome almost moaned in delight as she opened the container and surveyed the food. “And it smells so delicious!” But before Inuyasha opened his container. “Wait! Let me guess what you got.”
“Okay?” Inuyasha chuckled.
“Ramen.”
Inuyasha’s eyes widened. “How?!”
Kagome giggled. “Sango told me it was your favorite.”
To her guessing was funny, but she didn’t expect the pained expression that instantly fell over Inuyasha’s face. It didn’t take her long to realize. “Oh my, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you think I got my memory back!”
“I-It’s okay, really,” he tried to reassure her. Yes, it hurt, but, “it’s nice to see you smiling and happy.”
“Are you sure? I’m really sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”
“Kagome, it’s really okay.” He smiled with eyes clouded over. “You’ve been... stand-offish till now, so it makes me feel a lot better that you’re comfortable enough to joke with me again.”
“Yeah... about that... I’ve been talking with Sango and she’s been encouraging me to give you a chance. I do want... to take her advice, but...” her voice softened, “could I be honest with you?”
“Of course.”
“For me, this is all like meeting a new guy and, you know, the whole crush, dating steps, and such whereas for you, it’s different and must be frustrating.”
“If I’m being honest, yeah,” Inuyasha scratched his head, “it is, but I don’t know, also a bit exciting too, like a challenge, but a fun one if that makes any sense. I get to date you all over again— I-I mean if you’ll let me.”
“They’re releasing me soon, so I think...” Kagome’s cheeks flushed. “I’d love to go out on a date with you Inuyasha.”
“Whoo Hoo!” He pumped his fists in the air. “I feel like a teenager again,” Inuyasha laughed.
At that, Kagome giggled, her mood significantly lightened, and a weight lifted. It was the first step towards a sense of normalcy. Forget the fact she couldn’t remember a chunk of her past and live in the now where a handsome hanyo sat waiting.
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srose-foxfire · 4 years
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“First Impressions” Part: 5 (Damirae)
Damian was glad his school day had finally ended. He was grateful he didn’t have to stay after for study groups, all he wanted was to be in his room and polish his sword. That was one of his favorite past times, his grandfather was an excellent swordsman though his father didn’t agree at it first he allowed Damian to receive lessons from his grandfather. Lessons in which were quoted as ‘self-defense,’ being a Wayne and the heir to his father’s company could one day misfortunes in which someone could try taking his life for money. His own father had to deal with similar hardships in the past and made sure his children received training in protecting themselves. Bruce had just hoped Damian had been taught by someone else, other than Ra’s Al Ghul.
Damian stretched out as much as he could in the limousine, while Alfred drove them back to the manor. He looked out the window, in four months he was going to graduate from Gotham Academy, then go off to Gotham University. Time seemed to pass more quickly now, before he even realizes it, he will be named CEO of Wayne Industries. His life goal’s, for the past few months he been debating if he could maybe have more than just inheriting his father’s company. Damian may never say it out load or even speak to his family about it, but Damian dreamed of having a family of his own. A wife and children, he would give his life for. Damian closed his eyes for a moment and just imagined what his future could be, and then she appeared. Raven.
The young Wayne unlocked his phone and opened up his photo gallery. He scrolled down to find the picture he had taken that one winter night. Raven had dared him to take a picture of their drinks together. It was silly thing but for her, Damian would do anything. Raven had been standing so close trying to make sure he got a perfect shot, at some pint Damian wanted to tell her she could lean onto his shoulder for comfort. But that idea quickly died.
Damian sighed, making Alfred look at him from the rearview mirror. “Everything alright, Master Damian?”
“Just lost in thought, nothing to concern yourself with Pennyworth.”
“Alright then. By any chance are you going to work on any school assignments when we arrive?”
“I finished every assignment already, I wanted to keep my weekend free so I can focus on other matters.”
“So, I assume you will be free?” Alfred shot Damian a quick glance over the rearview mirror again and the young Wayne only nodded at him. “I was wondering if you would help me with a small favor Miss Cass had left me with before she had left to buy some items for tonight.”
Damian didn’t want to do some chore Cass should had taken care herself instead handing it off to Alfred. “Sure, what would you like me to help in?”
“If you could help me entertain Miss Raven, till your sisters arrived?”
What?
Raven was at the manor? Well that changes things. Damian did everything he could so he wouldn’t start grinning. Now that, would cause Alfred to question why the mention of his sisters’ friend would please him so much.  
When they arrived at the manor, Damian literally sprinted the steps towards the main doors. He speed-walked towards his room and threwhis bagpack not caring wherever it landed. Not wanting to waste any time, he didn’t bother changing out of his school uniform and ran to the one place he would always find Raven cooped up. The manor’s library. As he neared, he started slowing his pace as thousand thoughts bashed one another in his mind, what could they converse? Could they read a book together, could they talk about how their week had gone by, or-
Damian stopped when he heard that little battle tune, he knew too well thanks to Jon. He peeked his head from the doorway and found Raven cross-legged on a couch, looking down at her phone as she cursed under her breath. The game she was playing announced her hero had been slain, she let out an annoyed grunt and moved to place a lock of her hair behind her ear.
Damian came in and leaned against the doorway crossing his arms. Raven hadn’t noticed his presence just yet as she went to continue playing. She looked so cute. She was dressed in black tights and a navy-blue skirt, with a tucked in long button-white sleeve. Damian had to contain a chuckled when he noticed Raven was wearing miss-match socks. He liked the idea that Raven felt safe and comfortable to be in Wayne Manor, feel she can be herself with his whole family. Damian looked up when he heard Raven cursed again when the game announced she been slain again.
“I wouldn’t have imagined you be a gamer.” Damian said so calmly.
Raven looked up from her phone, “oh, hi Damian. I’m not much a gamer but Jon kind of got me into this game.” Damian could had sworn he saw her cheeks just flush a little. Raven sighed heavily in defeat, she looked up to Damian as he raised a brow. “Actually, I hear you’re a good assassin so maybe you can help me with my assassin hero? I keep getting myself killed.”
“My pleasure.” Damian walked over and watched as Raven scooted so he could sit down. Damian had to hold his breath in to make sure he still was in control of his body. He was afraid he start turning red or worse his heart would beat so loudly all of Gotham would know his secret affection towards her. Damian carefully took Raven’s phone and looked at what she was planning to do with this particular hero. “Well first mistake you did was you didn’t choose the correct battle spell; assassins rely on jungle in order to build quickly and cause more damage.”
“So, this spell is useless for her?”
“Somewhat, you used a spell that mainly used by mages and supports. What were you planning to build?”
“Cut me some slack! I normally mage so I had no idea what would be best!” Raven lightly punched his shoulder as she watched him sell some of the items she had previously build and prioritize buying other items.
“Next time build for these items; this one specifically will help you greatly to deal more damage and make use of her passive, she deals allot of damage when she is in stealth.” Damian demonstrated the assassin’s passive and gaining him a kill, a player from the enemy side got neared hoping to avenge their fallen comrade. Damian activated the assassin’s ultimate skill with little health, but now with greater power output was able to kill the enemy hero.
“You’re a better teacher than Jon. Thanks Damian.”
“I’m surprised you think so, Jon was actually the one to get me into this game.” Damian peeked over to find Raven was awfully close to him. He cleared his throat, “are you’re here for a sleepover?”
“Mm.” Raven continue to lean closer, her head was practically laying on his shoulder now. Damian was praying his face wouldn’t flush or that she wouldn’t hear his heart wanting to beat loudly. “Can I actually confess something to you?”
Damian helped the team win the match, he then handed Raven back her phone so she could receive her awards. “Please go ahead.”
“I am not sure if I will be welcomed after today.” Raven said silently, “when your sisters arrive, I plan to tell them the truth about Jasper Sky. I’m afraid they may get very upset with me and not want to be friends anymore. Which I understand, I did lie to them.” Raven turned off her phone and stared straight ahead, lost in thought.
Damian could tell this scared her, he didn’t know if she needed this from him, but he had to let her know she wouldn’t lose everything after today. He wanted to make sure Raven knew she still had a friend. “I will be your friend, so you still have me. Besides, if you tell them the truth and explain why you had to invent the perfect boyfriend like Jasper Sky, I’m sure they will understand. My sisters aren’t the type to hold grudges.”
“I hope you’re right, I like being friends with your sisters and… I like being your friend too. Damian, I want you to know that I am here for you as well. So, don’t hesitate in asking me for help.”
Damian could only nod at her, Raven turned her phone back on, she clicked a tab that allowed her to view the builds for each of the hero’s she played with. Damian watched her save the build he had built for her and saving it. He could only continue stare at her. Realization kicked in. Damian needed to tell her, now more than ever he needed to come clean of his own feelings for her. “Raven I-”
“We’re home!” Stephanie called out down from the hallway. Great his sisters were home.He almost had the chance to, to what? Tell Raven he loved her right before she may lose two friends? What was going on in his mind?!
“Rae-rae where are you?” Stephanie called out again somewhere down the hallway.
“She’s here Steph!” Both Damian and Raven looked up to find Cass at the doorway, holding plastic bags filled to the brim with facials masks and other cosmetics Damian assumed were for their sleepover. “Rae, I hope you’re excited for our slumber party! Sorry Dami no boys allowed. Well unless you let us give you a complete makeover.”
“Not in a million years.” Damian said so sternly.
“C’mon Rae, let’s get this party started!” Cass shouted cheerfully and she did a little wiggling dance with the bags swaying back and forth.
Raven exited the game and opened the messaging application, “I will be there in a bit, let me just send my mom a quick text and let her know that you guys arrived already.”
“No problem, Steph and I will get my room set-up. Don’t take too long.”
Damian watched his sister exit and then turned to watch Raven smile turn into a frown. “You okay?”
Raven clicked send to a message she had previously written out, she then looked up to him. Her amethyst eyes were on the brink of shedding tears. “Can you be there? I mean can you wait outside in case it goes bad and I lose them as friends? I don’t think I will be able to do this alone and I-”
“Raven.” Damian went and grabbed her hands in his. He gave her a gentle smile before pulling her in. He let go one hand and wrapped it around her back, pressing Raven tightly against him. “I am here for you.”
Raven whimpered and was clearly fighting off her tears. She was able to wriggle one hand free and wrap it around him tightly. “Thank you, Damian.”
~~~~~~
A/N: I hoped you all enjoyed this update. Again we are drawing near to the end to “First Impressions”. I am very excited to share with you all what I have planned for this particular fic. What started out as a one-shot turned to multiple parts. Anyone wondering the mobile game I been referencing is called “Mobile Legends” (I am currently very much into 😅) Next update will be for “Under an Autumn Moonlight” and afterwards the first two chapters for my Dark Robin Au Fic. 
Till next time and thank you all for reading!
~~S.Rose 
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jobrookekarev · 3 years
Note
23 & 29
23) Who thinks they are not good enough for the others love? and who’s more afraid of loosing the other? Who thinks they keep messing up, only for the other to tell them they don’t need to worry?
In the beginning, Jo worries that she is not good enough. She mainly worries that things between her and Alex will fizzle out or they'll break up and she'll be left without a place to stay. She really loves Alex, more than she's ever loved anyone else. For the first time in her life, she has a good healthy relationship and she doesn't want to lose him. Sometimes when they fight she'll tiptoe around him or try and stop the fight by giving in to him. After he realizes what she's doing he’ll make sure to communicate with her. He tells her that just because they fight doesn't mean that he doesn't love her or that they're going to break up. After a few months, Jo becomes more secure in a relationship. Soon they're able to even playfully fight knowing full well that at the end of the day they’ll fall asleep in each other's arms knowing that they love each other.
Like Alex can't even sleep on the couch for the whole night when they fight. If she banishes him to the couch or if he gets mad and goes there himself, they’ll tossed and turned for about 20 minutes. Then Jo will ask him if he wants to come back to bed with her and he'll jump up and crawl back into bed with her. Yet, as he cuddles up to her she'll remind him that their fight isn't over. Still they fall asleep wrapped in each other's arms and by morning they aren't fighting anymore.
Alex on the other hand is definitely worried that he's going to mess it all up. All of his past relationships have been messed up or not as serious as this and his divorce with Izzie is still something that lingers in his mind. He worries that he's going to be too much for Jo and that she will get tired of him and leave. For example, he first time she get’s sick she insists on going to work and it reminds Alex of when Izzie went back to work after she recovered from her cancer. She pushed him away when he tried to care for her and he doesn't want to make that same mistake. So he doesn't hover over her and lets her go to work. Halfway through the day, Jo comes up to him and asked to be put on his service. She thought that he say yes and would cover for her and let her nap in an on-call room. However, when he refuses to, she's confused and goes back to where she was working in the ER. At the end of the day the little cold that she had is now full blown illness and she's pretty much dead on her feet. Alex come to pick her up and take her home, but he’s still distant. Once they gets home Jo changes into pajamas and comes downstairs where he’s sitting on the couch. She stands in front of him blocking his you to the TV and asks why he's been so distant today and if he's really that afraid of her germs?
Alex: “It's not that. It's just that I assumed you wanted to tough it out. I’m not your parent and I’m not going to take care of you.”
Jo: “What if I wanted you to take care of me?’
Which surprises him and he gets that dumbfounded look on his face.
Alex: “You wanted me to take care of you?”
Jo throws her hands up in frustration: “Yes!”
Alex: “Oh.”
Jo: “Look you don't have to necessarily hover over me, but I wanted you to put me on your service because I knew that you would let me take it easy. I thought that maybe you let me sneak away to an on-call room and take a nap. I wanted you to take care of me a little bit, because no one's ever done that for me before. When I was a kid none of my foster parents cared about whether I was sick or not. I thought that you might at least care enough to notice that I was having a hard time, but I guess it's silly. I’ve been taking care of myself for years and I don't need someone to take care of me.”
Then she turns to walk away and Alex immediately gets up and wraps his arms around her and he picks her up. Jo's a little surprised and asks what he's doing and he says that he's going to take care of her starting with putting her to bed. So Alex takes her upstairs and tucks her into bed, before he goes and he gets cold medicine, tea, her favorite soup, and puts a cold washcloth on her head. The next day he insist that they both stay home from work and he takes care of her.
And Alex loves taking care of her. It makes me feel needed and useful. He can do something for her while she’s sick, rather than just watching it happen like when Izzie was sick or when his mom had a menial break or when his dad drank. And Jo loves being taken care of. The next week when Alex has inevitably caught her cold, Jo takes care of him and doesn't protest no matter how much of a baby he is.
Okay I might actually write this.
29) Who does some crazy stunt to try and impress the other and who ends up driving them to the emergency room after it backfires?
I know it's fall but I have a Christmas idea, so it's Christmas 2020 they're very first Christmas with both of their girls. Although Luna is still in the hospital and Helena is only 10 days old. They both want to make their first Christmas with their daughters special. Jo's 10 days postpartum and on Christmas day she'll only be a month postpartum. Most days she barely has time to take a shower, much less plan a big Christmas or anything. What Jo wants to do for Christmas is just get fried chicken, go to the hospital with Alex and Helena and spend a couple of hours with Luna, let the girls open presents or in Helena’s case dangle and new hanging toy above her head, take a family Christmas photo, and be in bed by 9:00pm.
Alex on the other hand is trying to plan the biggest Christmas event he can. He's already got a long list of Christmas gifts for the girls and for Jo and he's planning to coordinate with Meredith for a big family Christmas dinner. On top of that he wants to completely decorate the house and put up lights. He’s also trying to support Jo and care of Helena, so he hasn’t showered since.. well since Helena come home from the hospital. He’ also doing all of the cooking, while neither of them are doing any cleaning or laundry. Lucky Meredith and Link come over twice a week to help them.
So the first weekend of December, after Meredith comes over to help Jo and the baby he goes to the store and picks out millions of lights and a couple of blow-up Christmas displays, some candy canes for the walk way, and a thing to sync the lights to music. After he spends why to much money he home. After Meredith leaves and Jo and Helena take a nap he goes outside to put up the lights. Jo of course, knows nothing about all this. She thinks that he got ONE single blow up snowman this for the lawn.
So bare in mind that the only Christmas lights that Alex has ever put up, is a string of lights across the wall on the nurse’s station at the hospital. So there he is on their roof for the first time putting up Christmas lights and of course he underestimates how hard it is. He reaches a little too far and ends up teetering off the ladder and falls.
Jo here's the crash and runs outside to see Alex in the bushes with a ladder. She absolutely freaks out thinking that her idiot husband killed himself. So she quickly helps Alex up and figures out that he's fine except that he most likely broke his arm. Then she screams at him that he could have killed himself and what was she supposed to do if he died? And that if he ever scares her like that again she would divorce him?! Then of course she wraps her arms around him and kisses him because she's so glad that he's alive. 
So they get Helena in the car seat and drive to the hospital where Alex gets a green and red cast. While Link is lecturing him, Jo and Helena go up to visit Luna to tell her about how much of an idiot her Daddy is, but how he was so excited for her first Christmas. From then on Jo insist that Alex pay professions to put up the lights each year. 
However that doesn't stop Alex from completely going overboard and planning elaborate Christmas light displays and soon their house is one of the best in the whole neighborhood and is even featured on TV as one of the best Christmas lights house displays in Seattle. And every year Luna and Helena, and later Edith and Quin, get told the tale of how their father fell off the roof as a cautionary tale to never use the ladder without supervision.
Okay I am definitely going to try and write this for Christmas.
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torque-witch · 4 years
Text
I don’t know if even like 4 people see my posts anymore
But ya know like being chronically ill and attempting to sell art and run an Instagram, having to use TikTok to make videos because instagrams algorithm says u have to post videos plus managing auctions every weekend and trying to post everywhere in order to make money and trying to appear normal and functional and not like u maybe showered MAYBE twice in a week plus eating??? Pushing through fatigue and sore joints and nausea and
Some nights u just feel like tomorrow it ends. I’m all done. It’s too much I’m gonna go back to retail and work myself into physical and mental deterioration
But then someone is like
Bitch your work is exquisite. I’ve got this giant ass Mother Mary framed BITCH i want you to murder out and I’m gonna tell all my pagan friends and while you’re at it?! I want you to paint Baba Yaga for me too you’re amazing
And I remember that I have value.
Is it value in a capitalist sense? I mean no. People have told me many times that art is not financially sustainable and do you want this job? I have this job for you. No it doesn’t accommodate disabled people, but!!! You’ll have a real job!
But I can bring people joy and people believe in me simply because I create and they get excited about my work and that! That’s what I need right now after living in the hell that is right-wing central: PA automotive shops - for six years!!! Interacting only with cis straight white republican god-fearing males as my superiors! My peers! My customers! Who laugh openly about my beliefs and my identity and who actively wish me death or illness by medical negligence and say that being disabled is shameful!!!
And to pay my bills off of literal sacrilegious art??? And my MOM compliments me??
Bro just tell your artists. Your musicians. Your barista. Your fav person. That they make u happy.
Idk if I can do this forever but it is healing. I don’t physically feel good and I’m not perfect or fast or super popular but it is healing. I can start to believe in me and reframe my worth and explore talent.
Is this a privileged post? Perhaps. Is this also a pandemic in which I chose to prioritize my health and not my financial status? Yes. Except for that capitalism still exists and I have to participate in it in order to not lose all of my property!!!! Otherwise yes. I would be sleeping all day.
Anyways do I feel like a failure? Yes. Do I also feel vindicated in so many ways this year? Yes. I’m doing what I can and it means something to other people and that! Makes it worth getting up again tomorrow.
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Text
To Med or Not to Med, the Saga Continues
I guess it has been awhile since I posted. A lot has been happening and I've been feeling like shit. Like I'm drowning and struggling to keep my head above water. I'm trying to keep going and keep fighting and not give up. But I'm so tired and all I really want to do is give up. I've been feeling so hopeless and alone. Everyone is trying to help me but I kind of wish they would just let me go. I want to fall into an abyss and disappear forever.
There have been little moments of light and happiness. I've been trying to hold onto these and I cherish those moments. He tells me to think of the positive things and I try. I do try. But it has been a really hard week and I started smoking again. More than I use to. He smelled the smoke on me last night, and, although he did not tell me to stop, I could tell he was pretty displeased.
I've had a few "episodes" since the night I hurt myself. It kind of feels like I came tumbling down and have not been able to get back up. I'm not really sure what to do or how to help myself. Before I use to just survive. I would just get myself through the day. I would just go through the motions, but I don't want to do that anymore. I want to be better and feel better, but not for myself. I want to do it for him. For a future. Maybe? If I can have that. I don't know.
He said I should want to do it for myself. Which I get, but I also don't get. For someone so conceited and selfish, I'm not worried about my mental health for the sake of taking care of myself. I'm worried about my mental health for the sake of not losing him and ruining another relationship. I feel like I have a real shot here to have a future with someone who is really great. The only thing I ever wanted, a family and children of my own.
My therapist has been telling me for awhile that she thinks I should get back on medication. I was really hesitant because I enjoy not taking meds, but I also thought I was doing good without them which clearly I'm not. She recommended a doctor they often send patients to. I made an appointment and it was a disaster. I hate that place and I might never go back to them.
I call them to make the appointment and they ask all these questions. There was an initial mix up because the location has psychiatrists and regular family doctors as well. The doctor I was recommended has a similar name to one of the regular family doctors. Then the doctor recommended didn't have any open availability until next month. I couldn't wait that long so I set an appointment to see a nurse practitioner instead. The instructed me to show up 30 mins before to fill out paperwork and etc. I had to set the appointment on one of the days I worked so I moved things around and go approval from my boss to take a long lunch for this appointment. I hate doing that but I felt like I needed to see someone as soon as possible.
I get to the appointment and they hand me a stack of paperwork. They said I should have filled these out already. No one ever sent me anything or told me to have this filled out ahead of time. But I fill them out. Then a nurse calls me to the back to take my vitals. I've never been to a psychiatrist that does that. They even made me pee in a cup. But I was like whatever. They are a family doctor office too so maybe they do it for everyone. Well I finish the paperwork and I wait to be seen. And I wait. And I wait. And I wait. For like an hour. I'm getting to the point where I am about to leave as it is now well past my appointment time and I have to get back to work. But I see the man at the desk is talking to someone and I can hear he is telling them that I have been waiting a long time. He calls me over and explains that the patient before is having some trouble. I am next but they aren't sure how long it will be. I ask about rescheduling but I am already here. I decide to wait. Luckily, it was only about another 5 minutes.
The doctor calls me back and asks me about what is going on and why I'm needing medication. I explain how I took different meds for about 5 years and I never really felt like anything worked. She wants to start me on something that is suppose to help with anxiety and sleep. I don't remember the name but I think it started with an "S." She said she would like to start off low and see how it works then maybe add lamotrigne. I am okay with this and she is about to write the script when I think to ask, "can I take that if I am pregnant?"
Her mood totally changes and asks me, almost accusatorily, "Are you pregnant?" I tell her I'm not but I want to be. She asks if I am actively trying to get pregnant. Again, I tell her no, but I want to have kids and I want to make sure whatever they give me is safe. So at this point she says she cannot write me a prescription. Which I feel is very wrong. I tried to explain to her, I am not pregnant and not actively trying to get pregnant. Actually, I am menstruating right now. I point out to her in all the paperwork I filled out and all the people I have talked to, no one has asked me if I was pregnant, trying to get pregnant, or breastfeeding, which I feel is pretty standard for most doctors' offices. At this point, I am pretty pissed.
I waited a long time to be seen and I paid a lot of money as a new patient for this visit. From the very beginning I told them, I am bipolar and I am seeking medication to help me. At no point did anyone think to say, "Are you pregnant or trying to be pregnant because you cannot take anything if you are." Huge waste of time. The doctor tries to blame me because I did not tell her right away. Again, I am not pregnant or actively trying. I told her it was her responsibility to ask me that important question. Yall, I started to cry I was so upset.
I tried to reason with her. Asked her to write me a prescription and if I became pregnant I could stop or I could start taking birth control again or something so I could take this medication. She told me no. She said if I went to see my obgyn and got approval from them, I could come back to see her and she would write me a prescription. So waste more time and more money. But also that would mean I could take medication while pregnant, she just didn't know or wasn't sure. I lost complete faith in this office and I told her I wouldn't be coming back.
I cried the whole drive back to work. I feel like I have no options now, but I also feel like maybe I should go back to my old psychiatrist and ask them. Some other women online have told me they were able to take medication while pregnant. And the whole thing is, I'M NOT EVEN PREGNANT.
But all this shit will have to wait. I am going out of town next weekend to see my family and I am so excited. I want to be happy and surrounded by love for two whole days. Then I can come back and get this all sorted out.
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obx-adventures · 4 years
Text
The Fall
Summary: Grace just moved from Figure Eight to the Cut. She never expected to run into her old friend, Kiara, and discover she lives next door to JJ Maybank.
——
Chapter 1
“JJ, get your ass out here! I’m leaving in 2 minutes whether you’re in the car or not!”
“Kiara?” Grace originally walked outside to see who had been honking for the past 5 minutes but discovering her old school friend yelling at her neighbor wasn’t what she expected.
“Grace?” Kie can’t hide her surprise as she gets out of her car.
“Hi!” Grace runs over to hug Kie and holds onto her like a lifeline. “I haven’t seen you in forever!”
“Damn, Kie. You spent the last 5 minutes yelling at me to hurry up and you aren’t even ready.” Grace glances over at the newcomer and does a double take. She has seen JJ Maybank plenty of times before but has never been close enough to see how beautiful his eyes are. “Dude, are we going or what?”
“JJ, don’t be rude,” Kie chastises him. “This is Grace Porter. She was the only person at the Kook Academy who talked to me after Sarah told everyone I was a narc.”
“Hey,” he says while looking confused. “What are you doing in the Cut?”
“Uhh… my mom and I just moved in last weekend.” Grace looks down at her feet and misses the looks Kie and JJ share.
“Do you want to come hang out with us?” Grace’s head jerks up at the unexpected response for Kie. “JJ and I are meeting our friends to go out on the marsh today. You could come with.”
“Are you sure?” Grace looks between Kie and JJ but focuses more on his reaction. She knows that Kie is being sincere in her invite but doubts that JJ would want her to come with. When he shrugs his shoulders, she looks back at Kie. “Give me a minute to grab my swimsuit?”
“Sure.” Kie offers her a reassuring smile. After Grace runs back inside, she turns to JJ. “You could have been a little more enthusiastic.”
“Kie, she’s a Kook. I only agreed because you vouched for her. Be happy with what you get.”
“JJ, she’s not like the others. The Monday after Sarah told everyone I called the cops, I was sitting at lunch completely alone and she came over to sit with me. She’s a good person.”
Grace runs back outside and climbs into Kie’s car. She’s nervous about spending the day with new people but she’s been losing her mind a little since the move. She didn’t really have any friends in Figure Eight so she’s used to spending most of her time by herself. But being in the small house with her mom has been awful. Amanda Porter has not taken to poverty well. Grace is pretty sure all the tears her mom has shed are due to their new economic status instead of her impending divorce.
“Oh, Grace, heads up… Sarah Cameron will be there.” Kie looks in the rearview mirror and laughs when she sees how wide Grace’s eyes are. “I know. She was the devil. But she’s with John B now and we talked through our shit. So, it’s all good.”
“John B? Is he the kid who’s dad was lost at sea like a year ago?”
“Yea. And Pope Heyward will also be there. Do you know him?”
“Yea, I think we played against each other on Math Team.” When JJ snorts, Kie elbows him hard over the car console.
“Sorry…” JJ turns back to look at Grace and is ashamed when he sees how embarrassed she is.
Once they arrive at the Chateau, Kie introduces Grace to everyone and they load up the HMS Pogue with coolers before all climbing aboard. Grace seriously considers bailing, still embarrassed by JJ laughing at her. But before she can, Sarah comes to sit down next to her on the boat.
“Hey Grace,” Sarah says softly, catching Grace’s attention. “I’m sorry about your parents. But I’m glad you’re here. I know you never really liked me after everything that went down with Kie. But I’m hoping you’ll give me a chance to show you I’m not that person anymore.”
Grace studies Sarah’s face and sees how sincere she is. The two girls were never really friends but Grace’s dislike of Sarah blossomed when she saw how hurt and confused Kie was after their falling out. But, if Kie can get past it, Grace will try, too. She offers her a small smile and is surprised when Sarah pulls her into a hug.
As they pull away from the Chateau, Sarah joins John B on the captain’s chair. Grace takes the moment of peace to lean her head back and feel the breeze against her skin. She jumps when she feels something cold tap her knee.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Grace is surprised that JJ is sitting across from her, looking sheepish. “Do you want a beer?”
“I don’t drink.” Grace waits for him to laugh at her again but is surprised when he just nods in response.
“I’m sorry for laughing earlier.” Grace nods at him, expecting that to be the end of the conversation. She’s surprised yet again when he pulls out a bottle of water for her and moves to sit next to her. “Really, I’m trying not to be such a dick. Kooks kind of bring it out of me but I’m trying.”
“It’s ok, JJ. And I’m not a Kook anymore. I don’t think I ever really was one.” When she sees how confused he is, she continues on. “I’ve never thought that having money makes anyone better than someone else. My dad says stuff like that all the time and I hate it. I liked hanging out with Kiara because she’s not really a Kook either.”
“Well, I guess that makes your move to the Cut a little easier.” When Grace looks back down at her hands and fidgets, JJ knows he’s hit a nerve. “Shit, sorry again. I wasn’t trying to be a dick there.”
“No, you’re fine. It’s just, uh, my mom hasn’t handled the move well. She hasn’t worked since before she met my dad and I don’t think she knows what to do. I realized last night that I’m going to need to get a job soon to pay the rent. My dad only gave us enough for one month and my mom seems to think that he’ll change his mind. But he won’t.”
“Hey, Kie!” JJ yells, causing Grace to jump a little. “Didn’t you say your dad needed another server?”
“Uh, yea… but you know he won’t hire you again.”
“Not for me, for Grace.” Grace looks at JJ in surprise.
“Seriously? Grace, my dad would hire you in a heartbeat.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Definitely. Unlike JJ, you’re reliable and have good people skills.” Grace’s eyes widen, expecting JJ to be upset. Instead, he laughs with the rest of the Pogues.  “Seriously though. I’ll talk to my dad tonight and let you know.”
“Thanks, Kiara.” Grace nudges JJ and when he looks at her, she mouths ‘thank you’. He nods and then leans his head back to relax. Grace does the same, finally feeling her anxiety ease.
“Why do you call her Kiara?” JJ asks after a couple minutes of silence.
“Because that’s her name.”
“Yea, but I only hear her parents call her that.” JJ turns his head slightly to look at Grace. Instead of responding, Grace just shrugs her shoulders.
JJ studies her while her eyes stay closed and her head rests on the seat. He’s surprised by the quiet girl sitting next to him and isn’t sure what to think of her. As a rule, JJ hates Kooks. All of them. He’s only made two exceptions – Kie and Sarah. Kie proved long ago that she’s a Pogue at heart. Sarah took some time but seeing how committed she is to John B was enough to finally earn JJ’s affection. He decides in this moment to really give Grace a chance.
----
“So, how’d you like your first trip on the HMS Pogue?” Pope asks Grace as they walk down the dock at the Chateau.
“I had fun. You guys are great.”
“You going to come back tomorrow?” Grace jumps at JJ’s voice. She didn’t realize he was right behind them.
“Is that an invitation?”
“Sure, you’re one of us now.” At this, Grace stops in her tracks and turns around to look at JJ head on. “What?”
“Nothing, just surprised. You didn’t seem very happy about me coming today but now I’m ‘one of you’, whatever that means.”
“It means you’re a Pogue now.” JJ gently touches her shoulder and walks past her. Grace is surprised at how the brief contact causes her skin to tingle.
After a full day on the boat and then a small bonfire at the Chateau, Grace yawns widely. John B offers her a spot on the couch but Grace declines, knowing she needs to get back home to check on her mom. When she tells him that she’ll just walk home, JJ offers to drive her, surprising everyone.
“I really would have been ok walking.” Grace tells JJ a few minutes after they leave the Chateau.
“I know, but you aren’t used to the Cut yet.  I didn’t want you to get lost.”
“Do you actually want me to hang out with you guys again tomorrow?”
“What do you mean?” JJ looks over at Grace, genuinely confused by her question.
“I mean, I don’t want you to feel like you have to invite the poor, sad girl just because you were kind of a jerk earlier.”
JJ chuckles and reaches over to touch her hand. This time, instead of a tingle, Grace feels sparks like a static shock. She looks at him to see if he felt it too but gets lost in his eyes instead.
“That’s not why I invited you. I meant it, you’re a Pogue now.” He moves his hand away, realizing he let it linger a little longer than normal.
When they get to her house, she sits in the car for a minute, dreading going inside. JJ senses her mood and decides to let her sit quietly with her thoughts.
“Thanks, JJ, you’re sweet.” She climbs out of the car and looks back at him. “Pick me up ‪tomorrow morning‬?”
“‪9am‬. Don’t be late or Kie will yell at both of us.” He smiles brightly and drives away, leaving her with butterflies in her stomach and full of excitement.  
Ch 2
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